"Some people just aren't meant to stand on their own," a character sniffs of Harley Quinn in Birds of Prey.
In the universe of the film, she's talking about Harley's recent breakup with the Joker. But she may as well be talking about Harley's cinematic treatment in our own world, where, despite her popularity in other media, she has been framed first and foremost as Joker's girlfriend, when she's mentioned at all.
Birds of Prey, then, is Harley's big chance to grab that spotlight for herself. And while the film itself is a misshapen cake slathered with Funfetti frosting, it makes an excellent case for Margot Robbie's Harley Quinn as a star supervillain in her own right.
The costumes pop, the soundtrack slaps, and the action sequences pack a visual punch.
Though the title nods to Harley's reluctant companions, Birds of Prey is really the Harley Quinn show, down to its structure. The story zips back and forth in time, embracing animation, on-screen captions, dream sequences, and intermittent voiceover to capture Harley's hyperactive state of mind, and it goes heavy on both bone-crunching violence and tongue-in-cheek jokes.
These efforts aren't always to the movie's benefit. The time-jumping is oddly paced, making the narrative unnecessarily confusing in the early going, and the brutality and humor don't always sit well together. It's difficult, sometimes, to figure out exactly what to make of what we see onscreen, even as Harley's relentlessly chirpy narration tries to guide us through it.
Thankfully, Robbie's shining performance cuts through the murk like a neon sign in a dark alleyway. Suicide Squad showed Robbie's Harley as a force to be reckoned with, and Birds of Prey allows her to add more depth and shading. She's still equal parts obnoxious, lovable, and terrifying, but she also lets slip hints of uncertainty, vulnerability, and even tenderness.
And as befits a movie about the fantabulous emancipation of one Harley Quinn, Birds of Prey goes hard on style. The costumes pop, the soundtrack slaps, and the action sequences pack a visual punch that's typically lacking in mainstream comic book movies. It's not quite John Wick, but crisp camerawork and playful choreography place Birds of Prey comfortably above the muddy CG action of an Avengers: Endgame or, God forbid, a Suicide Squad.
Indeed, Birds of Prey looks like what you'd imagine Suicide Squad could have been under a clearer vision. Director Cathy Yan and her team retain enough of the previous film's cartoonish-grimy aesthetic to keep Birds of Prey recognizably within the same universe, but tweaked and upgraded and filtered through Harley's perspective.
So Harley, for example, is in outfits that look like they've come from the same closet as her Suicide Squad baby tee and hot pants, but styled to look less self-consciously sexy and more cheekily ostentatious. The characters around her benefit from this attention to style as well: Roman Sionis (Ewan McGregor) and Victor Zsasz (Chris Messina) may well be the best-dressed baddies that Gotham City has ever seen, while pickpocket Cassandra Cain (Ella Jay Basco) goes the opposite route in baggy casual wear that allows her to blend in and steal stuff.
Such choices allow the characters to make a strong impression even when the run time doesn't allow them quite as much attention as they deserve. While Harley Quinn is the main draw, Birds of Prey also functions as a sort of origin story for, well, the Birds of Prey — tough cop Renee Montoya (Rosie Perez), superpowered singer Dinah Lance aka Black Canary (Jurnee Smollett-Bell), and best of all, awkward vigilante Helena Bertinelli aka Huntress (Mary Elizabeth Winstead).
The film is at its absolute best when all these characters come together, cementing their girl-power bond with perfectly observed gestures like Harley offering Black Canary a hair tie. But what it offers of this dynamic is not nearly enough. Which, maybe, was their plan all along: Show us just how cool Harley Quinn and the Birds of Prey can be, so we're left wanting to get back in line for their next movie.