It’s rare to encounter a motion picture brave enough to attempt to place on the screen the most intimate moments of human suffering. Alan Bennett describes this moment in literature as though ‘a hand had come out and taken yours’. It’s the feeling that through time, space and any other barrier, we all share the same pain and art is a way to reach out.
Like Harley, I was once foolish enough to hang all my hopes on a hangover sandwich so perfect it could fix everything, only to have it torn from my grasp. For me, this cruelty was inflicted by my own wayward housecat.
I Too, Have Loved and Lost.
For Harley Quinn, the tragic breakfasticide is committed by Gotham PD’s Renee Montoya. We join Harley post-breakup, coming to terms with the loss not only of her beloved egg sandwich but also of the immunity that comes of being The Joker’s Girl. Running from every thug with a grudge our heroine finds herself at the centre of a vigilante/mobster goose chase for a McGuffin as delightfully silly as the chase that surrounds it – the Bertinelli Diamond. A jewel encoded with the account numbers for the crime family’s vast fortune.
And what a chase, for the first hour at least. We’re treated to a breakneck tour of Ms Quinn’s hitherto home turf. Carnivalesque and often literally sparkling fight scenes are punctuated by dream sequences, flashbacks and well-judged fourth wall breaks.
The neighbourhood is lovingly crafted and sets are kept small enough to feel that Harley’s erstwhile kingdom really is closing in on her. Tight frames and frenetic, but disciplined, editing draws the eye right in to compact, beautifully choreographed fight sequences. It’s a playful pastiche rich in colour and packing a real punch.
Screenwriter Christina Hodson smartly shares out motivation between the ensemble cast, keeping the climactic scenes neat and unencumbered by the need to tie off multiple loose ends. Vignettes, homage and genre riffs weave around the narrative, never pulling focus from the story’s heart.
But somewhere around the 60 minute mark all these flourishes and whimsical asides start to drop away.
A Batman Movie in Marvel Clothing
As is drunkenly explained in an early scene, a harlequin needs a master. The film’s heart is in Harley’s search for a new purpose, a new letter for the chain around her neck. A more predictable arc would have seen Harley realise that she’s fine on her own – that nobody needs to be attached to someone else, grrrl power boss bitch etc etc.
What has been subtle undercurrent turns to whack-in-the-kneecaps overcurrent by the final showdown; there’s nuanced pathos in Harley’s relationship with pickpocket Cassandra Cain that’s undermined by an unnecessary justification of Ms Quinn’s madness.
Setup for upcoming ‘reinvention’ The Suicide Squad aside, there are some oddly tacked-on elements here that interfere with what is, for the most part, a deceptively streamlined plot. Ali Wong pops up for a few moments of police-politics bickering with Renee Montoya. Harley is betrayed by a character we’ve got to know and love for all of eight seconds, in an entirely unnecessary ‘see, you just can’t depend on anyone so I’ll take care of number one’ subplot.
There are strong hints of a backstory between Montoya and Black Canary, but they serve here only to make sense of a later twist with minimal payoff.
I’ve heard more than one review citing Ewan McGregor as a standout here, and though he excels in darker scenes, for me Ewan McGregor’s Roman Sionis (aka Black Mask) comes across more like a cut-price Killgrave than a truly original villain.
McGregor comes to life in tandem with Chris Messina’s Mr Zsasz – a character whose one-time encounter with Black Mask in the DC comics is here transformed into a codependent relationship that essentially takes the obvious dom/sub dynamic between every wholesome family-movie villain and their sidekick, and twists it into a genuinely engrossing toxic partnership.
The costumes are predictably gorgeous – this is a team that takes their responsibility of designing half the world’s next Halloween getup seriously. And Margot Robbie clearly relishes the pressure of developing a character that had earned a cult following before the first Suicide Squad even reached the big screen.
The result is a rare delight reminiscent of Captain Jack Sparrow’s first outing. Always skipping the tightrope between guileless and gormless, what’s given the character a devoted fanbase is here teased out further and brought right to the forefront.
Verdict
Birds of Prey was originally pitched as an R-rated girl gang movie, and while I’m excited to see where prequels, sequels, reimaginings or limited series take Quinn next, the film more than holds up as a standalone outing based on the simple truth that Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, break knees, and eat their egg sandwiches in peace.
