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As a lifelong enthusiast of cinematic delirium, I groan at the very thought of Suicide Squad. Loud, lurid, incoherent, and ostentatiously, meaninglessly rebellious, it doesn't lift you to the visionary bliss of a L'Age d'Or, Holy Motors, or Mad Max: Fury Road. It drops you instead into a muddle of reflex reactions.

I enjoyed B v. S for its frenzied stylishness – it certainly seemed much bolder than most of those Marvels – and Suicide Squad kicks off in similarly rousing, OTT fashion, with propulsive editing and so many song cues it starts to feel like a collection of music videos (not necessarily a bad thing, in a comic-book movie). Alas, it peters out long before the end.

Rather than treating the exoticism of the story's fantasy as a springboard for imagination, Ayer dulls it down, spicing the movie with only occasional and miserly dashes of wit—yet not stinting at all on the grandiosity of the spectacle. The result is a series of gunfights that could be taken generically from almost any action film, whether realistic or fantasy-based, of the last decade.

In a world of flying men and monsters, this is the only way to protect ourselves," says Amanda Waller, a steely intelligence officer played by Viola Davis, near the beginning of the muddled comic-book spectacle Suicide Squad... An action fantasy that seems uneasy about just how brash—and just how sympathetic—its reputedly rotten characters are supposed to be.

It's fun to hear "House of the Rising Sun" while Ayer's camera moves into Belle Reve Federal Penitentiary (Tennessee Williams reference alert!), a black site for criminal dead-enders. But this director uses every song to underline the obvious, and you soon realize that underlining the obvious is his modus operandi for the entire movie.

Individual scenes and performances stand out, especially when they feature Will Smith's hitman-with-a-heart-of-gold and Margot Robbie's Harley Quinn (who gets all the good jokes), but the jumbled narrative ensures that those arcs (which also needlessly turn villains into troubled souls who aren't so bad once you get to know them) never pay off.

When the film's overstuffed menagerie of bad guys and psychotics are working at the top of their game, and the film embraces the arch idiocy inherent in its premise, Suicide Squad offers more unself-conscious fun than many of its more sombre, proudly joyless blockbuster brethren. To borrow a phrase from professional oddball Weird Al, Suicide Squad may dare to be stupid. Just not stupid (or cynical, or absurd) enough.

The hyperactivity that propelled films like End of Watch and Fury is ideally suited to this material, but Suicide Squad never gets to be a manic, freewheeling alternative to the genre's propensity toward dour severity and increasingly uniform aesthetics. Like the recruited criminals themselves, the film longs to be bad, yet it's forced by outside pressures to follow narrow, preset rules.

For all its posturing as a dark portrait of super sociopaths, Suicide Squad never becomes nightmarish enough. It lacks the necessary teeth and ambiguity to connect cartoonish evil with the relatable horrors of everyday life. Only The Joker seems to understand that actions scream louder than words.

Like so many of Ayer's directorial efforts, Suicide Squad feels like it was re-drafted in the editing room. It's clumsy, disrupted by at least eight different plodding flashbacks, filled with lines of dialogue that cut well into trailers but make zero sense in context, and patched up with an embarrassment of rock-along musical cues. In other words, it's an exercise in attitude over everything else.

Ayer makes this comic-book stuff play to his strengths. He has a feel for the ways that people handle desperation — for high-pressure situations in which flawed men and women are forced to live up to their responsibilities... His dialogue is sharp and tight: Even as these antiheroes banter and jaw and distrust one another, they reveal who they are. Suicide Squad is the rare superhero movie in which I actually found myself wondering about the characters' inner lives.

Suicide Squad moves fast, so fast that the characters barely have time to hate one another, let alone bond. But instead of making the picture more exciting, the cluttery blur of the editing flattens it out—it's like watching helicopter blades whir for two hours.