Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn)
Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) Claudette Barius

I attend my fair share of movie screenings, and afterward I love eavesdropping on audience members as they leave the theater... because a) I'm nosy, and b) I want to see if their reactions match my own. But after leaving Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn), one random dude's comment really stuck out.

"There was not one single redeemable male character in that movie."

Just so we're clear, it wasn't intended as a compliment.

For those who don't eat, live, and breathe comic books, Birds of Prey is a recurring and revolving team of female DC superheroes (and occasionally criminals) fighting crime in Gotham City. Harley Quinn (here played by the truly fantabulous Margot Robbie) is a troubled, former psychiatrist who eventually became the obsessive (and obsessively violent) girlfriend/sidekick of the Joker. In this version, Quinn has been dumped by her green-haired beau, and since she no longer has the protection of the city's biggest crime boss, lots of enemies begin dropping by with revenge on their minds.

Adding to the mix is four other women—the titular Birds of Prey—who each find themselves at an emotional crossroad and in plenty of danger: Dinah Lance (AKA Black Canary, played by Jurnee Smollett-Bell), a club singer who's roped into assisting the film's big baddie Roman Sionis (a jaunty, scene-chewing Ewan McGregor); Helena Bertinelli (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) as socially awkward assassin the Huntress; honest cop Renee Montoya (Rosie Perez) whose passion is slowly being drained by men on the force; and teenage pickpocket Cassandra (Ella Jay Basco) who unwittingly steals a pricey diamond belonging to Sionis, causing a desperate chase and bringing all the aforementioned characters into a violent—often comically so—conflict.

Make no mistake, Birds of Prey is Harley Quinn/Margot Robbie's show, and just like in the not-so-great Suicide Squad, it's a show she clearly steals. Her squeaky-voiced, Looney Tune-style antics would become annoying if it weren't for the deep emotional turmoil Robbie brings to the role, as it's slowly revealed that Harley's suffered a lifetime of physical and emotional abuse. While it's never heavily dwelled upon in Christina Hodson's smart, though occasionally convoluted script, these women are the "prey" of a city filled with toxic men, and by the end and as the title suggests, it's not just Harley Quinn who becomes "emancipated."

Cathy Yan's direction is both spry and delicious, and if the plot occasionally drags, the action and fight scenes are wild, juicy, comically over the top, and the choreography is better than any superhero movie (DC or Marvel) in recent memory. While the other cast members may have trouble keeping up with Robbie's laser-focused characterization, Birds of Prey is a feisty, fun, and distinctly feminist take within a glut of male-oriented superhero cinema.

WHICH BRINGS US BACK TO "DUDE OUTSIDE THE MOVIE THEATER," who angrily quipped that "there wasn't a single redeemable male" in Birds of Prey. And he's right—there wasn't. But guess what, my dude? You're not entitled to one. But I get why he might feel that way. His sense of entitlement was born from decades of movies where women are treated as secondary doorstops, who are only given a line or two dialogue, and whose only functions are seemingly to be rescued (or murdered) by men in order to forward the action. So in that regard... yeah. Birds of Prey, fun and light as it is, might make some dudes uncomfortable... but if so, they may want to ask themselves why?

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Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) opens at various theaters Friday, February 7.