Comic book adaptations continue to be a divisive issue in contemporary cinema culture – some absolutely adore the direction various studios, particularly Marvel and DC, are taking their properties, building empires around some of their most beloved stories, while others abhor this move towards profiting off big-budget spectacles that may not always be as significant as they appear to be, with the exception of some tremendously effective ones that do come close to meeting the impossibly high criteria asserted on them by devotees. As someone who falls somewhere between these two positions, you can understand both my frustration in the constant presence of these films that often distract from more meaningful work, but also my undeniable glee when seeing them execute them in a way that feels meaningful. Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) is the rare kind of comic book adaptation that exceeds all expectations, to the point where it begins to resemble something else entirely. Cathy Yan has not made a superhero (or rather, anti-hero) movie – she’s crafted a neon-soaked dark comedy, and biting character study infused with acidic wit and the most subversive deconstruction of conventions, in a way that dismantles many of the most sacred aspects of the genre. A film that is far better than anyone could possibly expect, Birds of Prey is a truly special work that demonstrates that any story, even those derived from the most profitable cultural properties, can be fresh and original without losing the spirit of unbridled entertainment. The enthusiasm this film inspires is genuine and earnest, and not only does the film manage to be a thoroughly enjoyable example of getting the comic book film exactly right, it finds a way to convey a certain message that many films in this genre are often too afraid to say, which only serves to make this one of the year’s most exhilarating surprises, and a truly astounding film in many ways.

Birds of Prey has received a fair amount of criticism, and its certainly not a film that has avoided controversy (the details of which aren’t particularly important, especially because it’s so counterproductive to look at external factors about a film when all we should be focusing on is the actual product and the message it conveys) – but for every fault that is asserted onto the film as being representative of the problems underlying it, there are clear merits that serve to render these petty complaints as entirely irrelevant. Essentially, Birds of Prey is a more complex look at a genre and its innumerable conventions that audiences have become accustomed to, making the effort to move away from the more complacent qualities, and instead reinventing a genre that always benefits from a new, fresher perspective. Cathy Yan has been on the outskirts of a breakthrough for a while now, and she finally is afforded to opportunity to realize her talents on a much bigger platform – films like this are always going to be seen as revolutionary, for the sole fact that they give female filmmakers the visibility they need to stake a claim in an industry, particularly one specific but immense faction of it, and show that female stories can be told without needing to follow the carefully-curated formula we’ve seen countless times before. Inarguable kickstarted by Patty Jenkins with Wonder Woman, this movement towards giving voices to a wider berth of filmmakers can only have positive effects, and as exemplified in Birds of Prey, when a talented director is working from a script that actually genuinely cares about the characters, rather using them as a way of hitting the right narrative beats, you can have a film that verges on being outright groundbreaking – and maybe we can just go ahead and call it just that, because if there’s any film that deserves it, its certainly this one. Essentially, this film is highly indicative of an exciting new direction in blockbuster filmmaking.

We can easily wax poetic about all the various ways Birds of Prey represents a magnificent step forward in the industry, but that becomes too laborious, and it ignores the very qualities that make this such a worthwhile endeavour. Naturally, we can already tell that this film is going to be very different, in how it is a female-led story that is actually told by female voices, which makes a considerable difference, demonstrating that it isn’t enough to just focus on a character like Harley Quinn and suddenly expect to be labelled as being a feminist statement – there’s a lot of work that goes into dismantling the indelible qualities that have tended to define this genre, and Yan certainly did have her work cut out for her – so it only seems fitting that she constructs one of the most triumphant entries into a genre that has become so worn with cliche, directing one of most original comic book adaptation since this recent renaissance of the superhero movie. This is done through various means, all of which we’ll discuss. At the forefront of this film’s success is the undeniable authenticity underlying it – it’s very clear this film was made by a group of creative individuals that were truly passionate about the story and intended to elevate the genre in directions that were previously unheard of – in many ways, Birds of Prey atones for the seemingly-irredeemable sins of other previous entries into the genre, particularly the majority of the films produced by the DC Extended Universe, through offering us a film that promises to be nothing other than unadulterated, unrestricted anarchy, in the form a quintessentially playful film that could quite possibly be the closest we’ve gotten to a mainstream comic book film resembling its source, in both style and substance, which is just one of the many qualities of Birds of Prey that should be celebrated, and represent the fact that this film may not have pioneered this kind of subversive glance at the genre, but certainly did broaden the possibilities of the stories that can be told, and the people who are given the opportunity to tell them.

Margot Robbie is a truly gifted actress, but as Birds of Prey shows, she’s also a profoundly rebellious part of the industry, and instead of simply expressing her dissatisfaction with how the role of Harley Quinn (a role she was born to play) was interpreted in Suicide Squad, and how the final product didn’t quite compare with her expectations for the character, she made an effort to give one of the most iconic villains in the DC universe the cinematic story she deserved – and Robbie goes to great lengths, in both her capacity as an actress and a producer, to give the role more nuance than she had been previously afforded. Yet, even just taking her performance alone into account, it becomes clearly precisely why Robbie is rapidly ascending to become one of the defining actresses of her decade, with Birds of Prey allowing her to run the gamut of all the qualities that make Harley such a compelling character – she gets to demonstrate her immense comedic talents in a way she hardly gets the chance to, as well as making use of her natural charm, the intangible quality that makes her such a magnetic screen presence. The actress commands the screen with a ferocity that can only come when working on a project you’re truly passionate about, which Robbie clearly is. However, as the title suggests, Birds of Prey is an ensemble film, and Robbie shares the screen with such truly compelling performers – Jurnee Smollett-Bell is incredible in her breakthrough performance as the cynical Black Canary, and Mary Elizabeth Winstead continues to prove herself to be a captivating presence with her droll, hilarious performance as Huntress. The legendary Rosie Perez gets a role that hearkens back to her more feisty work in the 1990s, such as her iconic work with Spike Lee. The ensemble of Birds of Prey is rounded out wonderfully by Ewan McGregor, serving high camp like he has never before in his role as the villainous egomaniac Black Mask. The film doesn’t only thrive on the story, but also on the memorable performances bringing it to life, and the work put into developing these individuals is quite astounding and signifies yet another reason why Birds of Prey is a considerable step forward in terms of the superhero genre.

There are some significant differences between Birds of Prey and other superhero films, mainly in how Yan takes the most significant conventions and approaches them from a completely different perspective, putting emphasis on certain aspects of the genre and building from them, rather than simply trying to infuse more character into the same cliched structure. This film is nasty in the best way possible – its almost as if the filmmakers looked towards the work of certain cinematic renegades such as John Waters in how it shows the sordid lives of some truly despicable people, while still allowing us to connect with them, despite not ever needing them to abandon the qualities that make them such terrific anti-heroes in the first place. Birds of Prey is brimming with a very unique sense of humour, and its sardonic approach to the material manages to subvert many of the more troubling quirks that tend to plague even the finest comic book films. It also helps that Yan has made an exceptionally fascinating film from a creative standpoint – Birds of Prey is more striking than most films in the genre, which is based on the clear directorial decision to deviate from the sometimes empty spectacle of the comic book adaptation, instead replacing it with a more hypnotic style. Whether through the bold use of colour or situating much of this film in some unexpected locations that aren’t normally visited in these kinds of films, Birds of Prey stands out as one of the current era’s most distinct visual experiments in translating a comic book to the screen, bombarding the viewer with a fiercely memorable explosion of visual splendour that actually serves a purpose and contributes to the general tone of the film. As mentioned before, this is one of the closest examples we have to replicating the style and tone of a comic book on screen, with the visual landscape Yan and her creative collaborators construct here being incredibly memorable.

Perhaps the enthusiasm I feel towards Birds of Prey is slightly hyperbolic – the film does have certain issues, but none of them are all that noticeable, especially when we take it as being a step forward in an industry that is still absurdly resistant to the potential success of these kinds of films. In making this film, Yan and Robbie knew that there would be reluctance to fully embrace it, so the only logical step would be not to play it safe, but rather be as bold as possible, which resulted in one of the most unforgettable comic book films of the past few years, one that may not have the enormous precision as the more popular entries into the genre, but rather a film that embraces its flaws, turning the fact that it is quite rough around the edges into a merit rather than a flaw. It’s a truly entertaining film that does demonstrate that a diverse range of stories can be made without being influenced by the eternal social tug-of-war that still takes place when discussing the potential success of projects told by voices that fall outside the perceived normative confines of filmmaking. The performances are exceptional (Robbie continues to prove herself as a true star, and Smollett-Bell and Winstead are on the precipice of breaking into their own form of stardom, as evident by their wonderful work here), the filmmaking is unique and idiosyncratic, and the film as a whole is a memorable affair that takes many of the most disconcerting tendencies of the superhero genre and tears them apart in a way that leaves nothing other than wonderfully controlled chaos in its wake. Birds of Prey is proof that sometimes the projects that seem the most mindlessly fun on the surface can also be unexpectedly complex beneath it, perhaps not in terms of the story itself, but rather the implications it has. This film is well on its away to becoming a cult classic, and a quietly revolutionary example of a subversive piece that not only challenges the genre but the entire industry as a whole.