Birds of Prey finds catharsis in its brutality

Margot Robbie in Birds of Prey. Image courtesy Warner Bros.

Somewhere between the innumerable mangled limbs and supersized bursts of energy that coat the surface Birds of Prey: And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn is unbridled rage against an oppressive society. While the film doesn't have the depth to tackle the depths of the cause for its rage, it has plenty of grit and tenacity that nearly make up for it. This is a film dedicated to vengeance and the unlikely friendships that arise from that pursuit.

Birds of Prey picks up sometime after the conclusion of Suicide Squad. Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie) is single after breaking things off with the Joker and struggling to cope with life without per pudding. Despite her best efforts to start over, she soon finds herself in the sights of aspiring crime lord and professional chauvinist Roman Sionis (an enthusiastic Ewan McGregor) and his psychotic underling Victor Zsasz (Chris Messina). Roman threatens to kill Harley unless she can find a diamond in the possession of young pickpocket Cassandra Cain (Ella Jay Basco). Also on the case are Detective Renee Montoya (Rosie Perez), who is working with lounge singer Black Canary (Jurnee Smollett-Bell), and the mysterious Huntress (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) who is out for revenge. Roman soon double crosses Harley, and it's up to her, Renee, Black Canary, and Huntress to protect Cassandra and stop Roman from becoming the most powerful villain in Gotham.

Birds of Prey is the most brutal of the D.C. films. Every fight scene functions as an excuse to break somebody's legs or take a wild swing at a skull with an aluminum baseball bat to inflict as much pain as possible. The film gets pretty hardcore, culminating in an absolutely vicious final kill that leaves folks cringing from the delirious excess of the endeavor. Birds of Prey combines the grounded violence of the Batman flicks with the Looney Tunes shorts it references to create this bizarre concoction of cartoonish human pain. The surreal violence fits the reality of Harley, who serves as the protagonist and the film's narrator. Harley's world is vicious and silly, heightened even more by the heartbreak from ending a long-term relationship. This is a breakup movie at its core, so it makes sense for Harley Quinn to shuffle through anger and grief to find some value in her self after shedding the last vestiges of her relationship. It takes a while, but in the case of any breakup Harley realizes she's better off alone than with a man who treats her poorly.

Even taking account Harley's role as a twisted narrator, Birds of Prey makes a few unnecessarily uncomfortable narrative choices. One scene, in which Harley is nearly date raped (Black Canary reluctantly comes to the rescue), is a bothersome trope that is ultimately unnecessary to serve either of its purposes. Removing Harley's filter for a moment, the scene exists as a character development arc for Black Canary to showcase her battle against her conscience and her adeptness as a brawler. Both are either referenced or made evident frequently before and after and could be introduced independent of an attempted rape. Adding Harley's filter back though reflects the film's underlying complication with its critique of societal misogyny. Birds of Prey is not subtle with its depictions of gross men doing gross things, but the film misses out on exploration of the nuances that allow these things to happen. There is a lot of potential for Harley to wail on a dude cutting in front of her in line or interrupting her in the midst of a speech, which would be as cathartic as beating up a pair of attempted racists. Birds of Prey had a lot of options it could take to emphasize its points about misogyny, so resorting to rape attempts to prove the point is cliché and dents some of the film's thematic resonance.

But there remains satisfaction with aggressors, especially as the film's female stars come together to fight against an army of male oppressors. The final fight has a few nice little moments to show the characters bonding amid the cascade of bullets and broken bones that add a feminine touch to the carnage. The sequence and the final cool down before the credits roll merges the raging sexism and Harley's personal journey to a logical conclusion. In a world in which men are obnoxiously dominant and perpetually dangerous, it makes sense for women to band together to help and protect one another. Birds of Prey isn't a paragon of feminism, but it at least allows viewers to blow off a little steam by living vicariously through its female heroes and anti-heroes.

Review: Three out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: R

Run time: 109 minutes

Genre: Action

tl;dr

What Worked: Margot Robbie, Ewan McGregor, Huntress

What Fell Short: Tropes

What To Watch Instead: Mad Love

Great cast can't prop up portentous Just Mercy

Michael B. Jordan and Jamie Foxx in Just Mercy. Image courtesy Warner Bros.

One of the worst things a film can try to be is powerful. Films can convey a lot of weight and impact on the viewer through acting, writing, and message because the filmmakers driving it have something of import to say. But a powerful film should be naturally so, delivering messages of great import through the craft. For films like Just Mercy, the attempt at gravitas comes across as trying too hard and results in a film that is more didactic than memorable.

Like most films of its ilk, Just Mercy is based on the true story of Bryan Stevenson (played by Michael B. Jordan), an idealistic Harvard attorney who dedicates his life to helping prisoners in need. Assisted by the tenacious Eva Ansley (Brie Larson), Stevenson picks up the case of inmate Walter McMillian (Jamie Foxx), who is on death row solely due to the testimony of erratic witness Ralph Myers (Tim Blake Nelson). Stevenson spends years fighting against a corrupt system spearheaded by a spineless DA (Rafe Spall) to save McMillian from state-instituted death.

Just Mercy never lives up to the sum of its parts. The talent is there and Jordan, Fox, Larson, and Nelson all do good work in their respective roles. Stevenson's story is almost too perfect to craft a fine courtroom drama reminiscent of The Verdict. Yet the film doesn't dive into the material with nuance or an eye for dissecting the depth of the issues that cause a Walter McMillian to be put on death row with little evidence. Just Mercy thrives above the surface, giving the audience something to feel good about without challenging preconceived notions. Everything about the film is too easy and too direct; the line between evil men and the good folks contains no room for grey. The audience isn't granted room to consider the roots of the racism that drives the villains or the virtue of its central character, and without that room for ambiguity the film lacks the teeth it needs.

The actual horror about what happened to McMillian happens in the procedures director Destin Daniel Cretton and his co-writer Andrew Lanham don't choose to explore. Institutional racism is dangerous because it his hidden within minutiae constituting the law. Racists are terrible people worthy of condemnation, but they get away with their racism because the law both protects and supports their view. Just Mercy focuses on the individuals with barely a glance at the system that enables them. Viewers should be bothered by this topic because of its subtlety and how easily it pervades society. Saying racism is bad like Just Mercy does is an easy win; pushing into a person's biases is far more challenging and much more rewarding if done well.

Films like Just Mercy can at least be watchable with the premise and the cast it has in tow and can be more so with good writing. Cretton and Lanham miss heavily on the writing though, in particular when it comes to their central characters. Despite the talent on hand, none of the performers are provided a character to play. Each person is a collection of speeches designed to make the audience either nod in agreement or hiss in anger, sort of like a wrestling match about racism. Building the film around multiple speeches provides the important veneer of power Cretton and Lanham strive for, but at the expense of legitimate character growth and storytelling. Nobody really grows or changes in the film; they start off with an important speech and end with a similar important speech with the journey in between not actually mattering. Stevenson in particular is granted little change; he starts the film as idealistic and angelic and ends the film in the same state. His main flaw is youth, which he overcomes by getting older. I can guess the reason for this view of Stevenson is due to the real-life Stevenson serving as a producer and writing the source material, which explains why a biographical film leans heavily toward the hagiography. (That Just Mercy gives him the cinematic equivalent of a halo in the third act is a little much). It's difficult to succeed with an overly perfect lead character, which is apropos for a film like Just Mercy that tries far too hard and falls short because of it.

Review: Two and a half out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: PG-13

Run time: 136 minutes

Genre: Drama

tl;dr

What Worked: Cast

What Fell Short: Characterization, Dialog, Depth

What To Watch Instead: The Verdict, Fruitvale Station