Birds Of Prey And The Fantabulous Emancipation Of One Harley Quinn
Cert: 15 / 109 mins / Dir. Cathy Yan / Trailer
I'm not going to lie, the latest DC movie was on a sticky-wicket before I even sat down in Screen 5. Anything with "fantabulous" in the title is going to have to work pretty hard to win back the goodwill it's already started to fritter away at the marketing-stage, and Birds of Prey is not a film that's trying to win people over.
A loose follow-up to David Ayer's Suicide Squad, we follow Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie) after an acrimonious split with The Joker, as the inadvertently puts together a kickass team with The Huntress (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), Black Canary (Jurnee Smolett-Bell), Renee Montoya (Rosie Perez) and Cassandra Cain (Ella Jay Basco), to bring down criminal kingpin Roman Sionis (Ewan McGregor) and secure a stolen diamond (and not just to return the stone to its original owner). And on the mean streets of Gotham, this can only end one way: with maximum carnage.
CAST The movie is bright, violent, sassy and moves like shit off a shovel, so what's not to like, right? Well, Birds Of Prey is what happens when a strong cast are absolutely fantastic at portraying an array of anti-heroes so irritating that all jeopardy is removed from the storyline. Because the audience isn't supposed to care about the diamond, and the prospect of these characters dying before achieving their goal becomes a growingly acceptable payoff, not least since we'd then get to spend less time with them. Birds Of Prey feels like a lock-in at Wetherspoons with a cosplaying hen party. Fine if that's your thing.
Admittedly, a large part of the problem is that while I love Robbie as a performer, I don't like the character of Harley Quinn, and that's certainly not the fault of anyone involved in the project. But as noted, this film will do little to change an audience's mind.
SLEEPER Quinn voiceovers her way through the carnage like an Accessorize Deadpool, the script around her veering wildly between banal chitchat, hoping-to-be-memorable pullquotes and grinding exposition. All backed with a ferocious needle-drop backing so eager to shift soundtrack albums that it's apparently happy to switch tunes mid-scene.
The film is enthusiastically acted, over-produced, over-directed but crucially under-written, DC hoping that an ADHD-approach to narrative will paper over the cracks in a team who aren't particularly interesting on an individual or group-level. Then again, it's hard to fully paint a character when you're introducing six of them in fifteen minutes...
MENSWE@R By the end of the second act, Birds Of Prey has become so haphazard that it's actually boring, the cinematic equivalent of white noise. It's well shot and choreographed with visual effects and wardrobe meeting the bar, but the editing is slave to the erratic nature of the story and its narrator. The audience knows where all the main players are at any given moment, but it's less clear why.
There are some great technical aspects to the film, but it's let down by a screenplay which feels a bit first-draft or worse still, first-screenplay*1.
But I get the impression at least that Birds Of Prey is exactly the movie it's supposed to be.That's just not something made with me in mind.
*1 It's not, of course. Birds Of Prey is written by Christina Hodson, who penned the hugely enjoyable Bumblebee. Then again, she also wrote 2017's Unforgettable; a movie which I only remember seeing by virtue of having written a review of it afterward... [ BACK ]
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
This is your spoiler-break. Courtesy rather than necessity at this late point in the year, but as anyone who's shared a cinema with me will attest, I aim to be unfailingly polite. Unless the BBFC-card has passed but the end-credits haven't yet started, and the glow of a phone lights up someone's face when they should be watching the movie in which case I'm fairly sure it's legally permissible to snatch the offending rectangle out of their hand, quickly zip out of the auditorium and drop it in one of the toilets nearby before returning to the film, punching the owner right in the corridor if challenged*1.
And with that delightful image settling over your consciousness, it's my duty to inform you (and not as forcefully as you're doubtlessly imagining) that the following article features plot-spoilers for Star Wars: The Rise Of Skywalker. And really big ones this time, as befitting the flow of the story itself. If you haven't seen the film yet, leave the rest of this until you have. Do watch it though, it's quite remarkable. Although you'll probably need to give it a couple of passes to get the most out. As previously noted.
But I digress...
So. When was Emperor Palpatine slotted into the puzzle of the Sequel Trilogy?
At what point did JJ Abrams, Rian Johnson or Kathleen Kennedy come up with the idea that The Emperor should make a comeback? Was this always the plan? Because watching The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi immediately before The Rise Of Skywalker, it really doesn't feel like it.
Don't get me wrong, I'm cool with Palpatine rearing his head once again, albeit surprised that it happened so early in the film and with so little build-up. But along with Starkiller Base from TFA, wheeling him back out of the cupboard as the ultimate weapon feels more like content-recycling than putting a new spin on an old feature, something you'd imagine Abrams would want to steer clear of at this point. While there was admittedly some disquiet over the direction of events in TLJ, no one was seriously clamouring for Darth Sidious to come back and restore order for the close of the trilogy.
Indeed, the whole subject of The Sith has been politely not mentioned until now. Mutterings persisted from 2015 that Supreme Leader Snoke could in fact be Sidious' old master, Darth Plagueis, having laid low for decades with his apprentice under the impression he'd been successful in his usurpation of the 'Master' role. With the game only beginning, Lucasfilm played that card close to their chests. But by the 2017, the official Visual Dictionary for The Last Jedi by Pablo Hidalgo (in conjunction with the LFL Story Group) seemed to draw some sort of line under things by stating that Snoke was categorically not a Sith.
'Star Wars: The Last Jedi, The Visual Dictionary', 2017 DK Publishing.
And of course technically, that hasn't changed with The Rise Of Skywalker. Snoke wasn't really a Sith. But for obvious reasons, the Visual Dictionary from two years ago didn't tell us that he's a genetically engineered meat-puppet on remote control to the somehow-resurrected Palpatine. And the more I think about it, the most obvious of those obvious reasons is that two years ago this wasn't the case. Just like Rey's true lineage, there are no seeds planted in the preceding episodes to suggest this reveal was coming down the track.
As much as I love the Star Wars films, old and new (in case you hadn't noticed), The Emperor's return serves to highlight one of the more pressing weaknesses with the Sequel Trilogy. That Lucasfilm have made it up as they went along. Although George Lucas variously stated that Star Wars was going to be twelve, nine or six movies (depending on which interview you read), he at least had a clear vision in his head/notepad at the time of beginning each trilogy. Even then, there are exceptions of course. Vader never 'became' Luke's father until The Empire Strikes Back script was in development, likewise the sibling relationship between Luke and Leia is unlikely to have been committed to paper at the time of Empire being made. But the core story - its ups, downs and turns - was in George's mind all along. And when those massive ret-cons do come along, shining a new light on previously-told events, they're that most precious of revelation: one which the audience wouldn't reasonably have guessed beforehand, but which in retrospect couldn't have played out any other way.
Palpatine's return at least scores half of this with ease. Over the past four years, both casual and hardcore audiences alike were not expecting to see the face of Ian McDiarmid back in the Galaxy Far, Far Away, at least not in such a central, prominent role. As for the pre-destiny of this, though? Well not quite. The Sequel Trilogy's third-act could easily have taken other paths toward the redemption of Ben Solo (because that was inevitable). Rian Johnson taught us to take our hands off the Star Wars rule book, to expect the unexpected.
So it should probably come as no surprise that the unexpected happened. Emperor Palpatine returned from the dark netherworld, seemingly as a lesson to us all that peace and balance are impermanent; a prize to be nurtured and cherished rather than attained then stuck on a shelf to show off. Or at least that's the lesson I'm going to take from it. And not a bad one as we close out this troublesome decade.
And in the end, it works. Because the resurgence feels tonally valid, because of the obvious vacuum left in Snoke's passing, and because the majority of the audience has already bought-in to whatever Mr Abrams has to offer*2. Time will tell how smoothly this conclusion is received, as well as if this conclusion turns out not to be a conclusion after all - do not be surprised about this potential eventuality*3.
But hey, always in motion is the future...
The Star Wars.
Obvs.
Obvs.
Some possibly, not all.
That's possible.
There isn't.
Unless you've heard one.
Level 0: It is Star Wars.
...but if you wanted to go around the houses with it, The Rise Of Skywalker stars John Boyega, who was in 2013's Half Of A Yellow Sun with Thandie Newton, who was in Run Fatboy Run alongside Simon Pegg, who appeared in Ready Player One with Ben Mendelsohn, who rocked up in Darkest Hour as did Pip Torrens from Patrick Melrose, which also starred Harriet Walter who guested in the 'Survivor's Guilt' episode of Law & Order UK along with... John Boyega.
*1 No wait, not legally permissible. What's that other thing which is like legally perm-... morally sound, that's right. Put your phone on flight-mode before the BBFC-card and don't look at it again until the end. Waiting for an important text or call? Wait at home. Bored during the film? Go home. 'Morally sound'. That's it. Not 'legal'. Probably. I always get those two mixed up. [ BACK ]
*2 Because the people who disliked the left-field character turns of The Last Jedi were more into the retro callbacks of The Force Awakens, and the vast majority people who loved Rian Johnson's movie also appreciated the nostalgia of its more cinematically-safe forebear. Put bluntly, it's a small crossover of people in the Venn Diagram who'd still be going to see The Rise Of Skywalker, but would then complain going "No, we didn't want you to bring that much of the Original Trilogy back! We want things to feel the same without being actually the same, but still being the same please...". [ BACK ]
*3 Because as anyone who's been watching the studio's output knows, Disney really don't like putting numbers at the end of film titles. "Star Wars Episode 9" encourages franchise-fatigue and instantly excludes the casual viewer who knows they haven't yet caught up with 1-8. "Rogue One: A Star Wars Story" on the other hand is more likely to attract impulse-viewers and casual cinemagoers. With The Rise Of Skywalker however, Disney can use the "IX" to create a sense of occasion, also lulling people into believing they're going to be present for the 'final' Star Wars movie. Y'know, as if the House Of Mouse paid $4bn for the name just to shunt everything over to TV within half a decade. There will be more Star Wars movies, and soon. It's just that the publicity-machine is no longer constrained by that section of the timeline (even if Rogue One, Solo and The Mandalorian suggest they're terrified to leave it). [ BACK ]
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
TORRANCE Doctor Sleep is the screen-continuation of the tale begun in 1980’s The Shining, with Ewan McGregor picking up the reins as that film’s Danny Torrance, now an adult with the requisite number of issues you’d expect from someone who survived the events of the first movie. While the Overlook Hotel returns (more properly as a character rather than a location), Danny’s main foe here is age-old occultist and psychic-vampire Rose The Hat (Rebecca Ferguson), while he tries to save gifted youngster Abra Stone (Kyliegh Curran) from her evil clutches.
And the film good. More to the point, I’m saying it’s good as someone who didn’t particularly enjoy The Shining. Doctor Sleep is more satisfying as a feature film largely because Mike Flanagan knows how to direct a cast*1, yet despite King’s somewhat lukewarm reception to that original film, this entry still reveres it without becoming enthralled. There are sections which are admittedly closer to tribute-act than follow-up, but that’s no bad thing (Kubrick’s visuals are at least on the tick-list of things I liked). It’s rare to get a sequel which is so clearly in love with its predecessor yet for all its nods and homages is nowhere near as laboured or self-indulgent.
NAPCETER It’s not all plain sailing of course. Smooth visual parity with the earlier film is speed-bumped by the (apparently deliberate) decision to re-cast roles from that movie using actors who bear almost no resemblance to the earlier players*2, while McGregor, Ferguson and supporting actor Cliff Curtis all regularly run the risk of being pulled over and arrested for failing to control an accent in a built-up screenplay.
Additionally, rather than use the extended run-time for an all-encompassing web of storytelling, what we get comes off as episodic. Danny's time as a hospital porter seems like a spinoff novella that's been retrospectively worked into the narrative as an interlude, rather than the central pillar to his character that it should be. That said, thanks to some choice casting, the introduction to Ewan's/Danny's adult life feels like a flashforward to an alternate-timeline Trainspotting, with the added bonus of desert-Obi-Wan's beard.
Ultimately, you have to admire the chutzpah of a two-and-a-half-hour movie which recruits an actor as formidable as Jacob Tremblay for a five-minute appearance. Very few can pull that off, nor indeed the film in general. Bravo.
Difficult for me to say since I'm not an aficionado of King's work, but I guess the fast-call is The Shining.
*2 To the point where the "great party, isn't it?" dude isn't even using the same accent. Don't even get me started on the bar scene. You've got Jack, talking to Daniel, pouring from a bottle of Jack Daniels, but you couldn't get Jack Nicholson back onto a set? Just for that bit? Instead you've gone and used Henry Thomas (Elliott from E.T.), a dude who neither looks, sounds nor acts like Jack Nicholson? Yeah, you're right - Nicholson wasn't a central feature of the first movie, no one will really notice.
Listen Mike, here's what you do: The bartender in 1980's The Shining was played by Joe Turkel - Old Man Tyrell from 1982's Blade Runner. Now, aerial footage from the beginning of The Shining was used at the end of the 'happy-cut' of Blade Runner, so to continue that link across the movies, why not get Harrison Ford to play Lloyd the bartender in Doctor Sleep? Better still, you'll then have Han Solo serving drinks to Obi-Wan Kenobi, another link to the blizzarding snows of Hoth which connects The Shining to Empire Strikes Back.
That's how you intertwine mythologies while maintaining narrative fluidity, Flanagan.
You're very welcome. [ BACK ]
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Well I for one wouldn't have put money on a cinematic highlight of 2018 being Ewan McGregor's chemistry with a CGI bear. In fact, it's a damned shame that this (repeated) display is the best thing about Disney's Christopher Robin. As a demo-reel for what a great physical and emotional actor Ewan can be, this movie is worth every penny of the ticket.
But it's… well, it's Disney. We know what to expect from the sentimental live-action fare they present, yet it still stings a little when it's not as perfect as their animation. Don't get me wrong, Christopher Robin is a solid movie, but it's one you've seen elsewhere - and not just in Winnie The Pooh stories. Great care is taken to gently lay All The Hits into the script in terms of callbacks and catchphrases, and there are some solid gold moments in here. But it feels like a large idea written in small words, while Jon Brion and Geoff Zanelli's score tells the audience what they should be feeling at any given moment.
Never quite patronising but certainly simplistic, all the emotional buttons are pushed in a way which suggests a safe-play from the studio. Some great deadpan comedy performances get slightly lost in a script which uses twee slapstick as its default setting. I'm not entirely sure that director Marc Forster is the best candidate for the job (despite his excellent work with McGregor, as noted), having previously delivered the lacklustre World War Z and the oft-derided Quantum Of Solace. Moving around the genres is perfectly permissible, but mastering one along the way is preferable.
Christopher Robin's story itself is based on a solid enough premise of nostalgia, family values and paternal redemption, but it's a formula which Disney have already done to perfection with their first Mary Poppins outing. December hares toward us with considerable expectation, to put it mildly.
The film all but abandons its core-message after the first act, racing for the finish line and becoming that movie where the businessman tells his snide boss to stick it up his backside while making an inspirational speech with his daughter at the back of the room that results in a gradual-applause response. Basically, a Jim Carrey film in the late 1990s.
Christopher Robin is good, but despite its high-points you know it should be better.
On the plus side, the recurring motif of the red balloon was very reminiscent of IT, and during the dreamlike underwater-sequence I did expect Ewan to pick up then discard two opium suppositories. Damn that PG certificate.
It feels like a property with the cultural legacy of Winnie The Pooh perhaps deserves more, but that comes down to Disney's stewardship of the brand more than anything else, which is by no means a new issue.
At some point in its development, Christopher Robin was a fantastic movie. But this feels like Disney are lazily trying to ape the success of Paddington, and for that they'll need a little less schmaltz and lot more sincerity…
Well, Paddington, frankly.
Not that it really should be.
Wet Sunday afternoon, sure.
When it comes down to a sensible price it'll be a one to have on the shelf.
Yes, even though I've done little but complain about it.
It's because I care, honest.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
I'm not going to lie, the latest DC movie was on a sticky-wicket before I even sat down in Screen 5. Anything with "fantabulous" in the title is going to have to work pretty hard to win back the goodwill it's already started to fritter away at the marketing-stage, and Birds of Prey is not a film that's trying to win people over.
