Review: Birds of Prey – “Sign me up for a sequel”

Birds Of Prey deserves people to flock to see it.

I’d imagine you’ll already know whether Birds Of Prey is for you.

The trailers tell you all you need to know about the neon-soaked Gotham, I’ve personally spent years trying to forget after Joel Schumacher bastardised my childhood.

That said, I’m a Suicide Squad apologist. And a DC fan… perhaps worse. A DC Stan… so what’s the verdict?

Well, let’s be clear. Tonally, the film is chopped all over the place. It thinks it’s a noir, then maybe a neo-noir, then maybe a Burtonesque Gothic Horror towards the end. But guess what? It matters very little. At the heart of the film, everyone involved knows they’ve got Margot Robbie — who’s magnetic star appeal is allowed to be dialled up to 11, for almost the entirety.

Plus it’s got Ewan McGregor and my god, does it know it.

Whether it’s him gagging at snot balls, or his victims having their faces sliced off (I’m saying nothing about the BBFC here, as I got hounded ever since I wrote that ‘Atomic Blonde’ should’ve been an “18”), he’s absolutely fantastic.

The campest & most theatrical since maybe ‘Moulin Rouge’, & I loved every minute. He comes incredibly close to stealing the film.

Which would be a real shame. As we know, the point here is girl power and I’m pleased to say that all feels incredibly natural — like we’ve watched hundreds of female-led action films, with female supporting roles. Which of course we haven’t and we certainly haven’t seen hundreds of comic book ones.

Despite the troubled production, & the choppiness of the tone & end product, I’d happily see many more, mind.

Each character — who I knew nothing about beforehand — gets some space, & enough of a back story. The film more than deserves exploring more.

I wish they’d had a bit more from the DC universe, but that said, there’s a great Boomerang gag and I wasn’t expecting flashbacks to ‘Suicide Squad’ — let alone a plot that wraps around that film and the fact Mr J, or more importantly Jared Leto, is MIA. Probably forever.

Sign me up for a sequel. I’m 100% here for more ball-breaking, toxic masculinity thumping tantrums. Maybe we could double-bill it at a sleepover and get pizza & ice cream?