Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey and My Emancipation from Monotony.

Comic Book movies I believe have peaked, reached the summit, seen the promised land, and much like the story of Moses in the bible it is only down from here. Or at least this is where I settled. Sure a few cases might tumbleweed through what used to be a teeming boomtown, but looking across the horizon, with Marvel's insistence on knowing what drives comic books with very little regard for what drives cinema, and DC's disregard for talent and decision making, and every other studio turning in their own version of Marvel movies ( even when they're about street racers) I thought the days of seeing anything as interesting as Blade, emotionally stirring as Logan, or philosophically intriguing and polarizing as TDK trilogy was over. Marvel's strict adherence to coexistence, (due to a symbiotic universe) made their heroes interchangeable, their villains bland. DC's new plan despite their new paint job isn’t much different than the old one there's just less insistence on connectivity. Their desire to give their movies personality based upon the unique vision of talented directors was the better strategy, their problem was in the folk they chose for the mission. It’s an issue that makes itself joyfully clear in Birds of Prey. No film is more emblematic of what went wrong before, what Marvel hasn't done, doesn’t do, and maybe can’ do under the current credo than Yan's energetic, all over the place, colorful, genre piece.

Cathy Yan's film so painstakingly builds its world around its themes and most importantly its central character (extremely unique in the landscape herself) that it can only but stand apart. Yan's choices, Robbies transformation, and the sheer amount of fun every seems to be having both in the context of the film, and behind the scenes, coalesced to make it for me one of, if not the most unique comic book film I’ve ever seen on screen. Deadpool most certainly and readily comes to mind, but while the film certainly understood its character, it did not accomplish the type of world building this film did. The cityscape in the film was as unremarkable as its villain. Todd Phillip's Joker film was so busy trying to wrap the Iconic character in a dubious political statement, while Joaquin focused on actorly objectives, it forgot much of the unhinged joy the character takes in his work, and damn sure lost his central impetus which I promise you is not being misunderstood and consistently victimized. Blade surprisingly has quite a lot in common with Birds of Prey as to what made these films work. These films both hinged on building a world around their central character that both obstructs their objective, and constructs their personalities. They both feature on paper a fairly uninteresting villain that finds magic through inspired performances by the actors involved, and both their lead actors, feel as close to irreplaceable as is possible because such is the level of their comfort with the character. Birds is a movie with character about a character and Yan and Margot Robbie, understand exactly who Harley is, and many of these traits become the traits of the movie.

Near the beginning of the film Harley is talking to the audience in her own head (of which we just happen to be eavesdropping) raving about her favorite breakfast sandwich and the man who produces them , Sal. She has been in her head this whole time , but she stops and says “I mean it Sal “ as if she has been talking to him this whole time. It’s brilliant and funny and totally emblematic of the feeling of this movie. You're in on what’s going on, but the movie, nor Harley care whether you are in or out. This is the beauty of Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey, its independence. It doesn't care that the comic book film has mostly lived by the use of drab morose colors despite the fact that the books are anything but. It doesn't care about leading us down the road to some overall reflection of our society, tho it clearly points them out. Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey looks out for Harley Quinn, or rather it springs forth from her, and Margot Robbie's uncanny understanding of the character. The passion, the energy, the essence, the erratic breaks in train of thought. Robbie so gleefully and brilliantly embodies the traits it’s like she becomes encased in the cells of actual comics, and the movie followed suit. In fact , one of my favorite, maybe my actual favorite moment in the movie is when Harley forgetting one vital aspect of the story, abruptly breaks to go back and explain a missing portion of a story she is telling. The film could've easily done a montage, but it goes through near a half hour of an actual act to follow Harleys tangent, (making me at least temporarily forget we were on one) and then popped right back in place with such a rhythmic ease, it felt akin to Hendrix going off to wherever he went on the national anthem, only to return us right back to where he left off as if we had already been there. Yan throws a number of colorful, spastic images that reflect Harley's mind, not only in how she thinks, but how she sees Gotham. The supporting characters (all of whom are as fantabulous as Harley’s emancipation) ride the supremely difficult line of feeling completely independent of, and somehow apart of Harley's fever dream-like perspective. They’re outside her dream actually doing something akin to how Harley sees them , but yet not exactly. Much like when Harley goes into a Diamonds are a girls best friend like hallucination after being nearly knocked out by a brutal slap from Ewan McGregor's “Roman Sionis”. The men that actually surround, her and even some of the actual peices of decor make their way into Harleys fantasy taking on different incarnations of themselves, each player now designated a different role in Harleys boundless imagination.

It’s this type of fun, escapist, sometimes maniacal , detour that makes Harlequin such an interesting character and the film gets it. What separates it from recent supposedly more important fare is the way that throughout all this garbage pail glam, charisma, and destruction, it holds Harley accountable. Both the Joker and Harley films presented characters who see the world in a unique way, arguably a very cynical way, but one went out of it’s way to support its central characters delusions, the other acknowledged them as toxic and at least partially responsible for not only her enemies, but her lack of friends. I’m a huge fan of the Dark knight films, and completely disagree with the notion that there was some landslide of films trying to copy its tone, (while Marvel was right there) but I do think the movies that did try to copy frequently got it wrong and made joyless messes that felt as though the thesis was a lesson could only come through agony and pain. Cathy Yan's visionary film proves that you can have the socio political bend of a Joker in the wrapping of a fun, colorful, witty , collection of action scenes like Marvel, and I think it’s an important landmark in comic book films. It cements Robbie as one of the fully realised actors of this era, and Yan as a visual director who doesn't become a prisoner of her own style, which is not easy even for good directors. Birds of Prey is the kind of film that I dont know gives me hope for the genre, (though I want to believe), but it definitely provides me with hope that the comic book film can still find ways to evolve, or reset, or refresh. Emancipating the form from its tedium.