Birds of Prey review: Margot Robbie and the fantabulous redemption of DC

Enlarge / Margot Robbie, seen here sporting a shirt that will help you remember her character's name through the course of the film. Oh, and she's also smiling while explaining how she and her cohorts may die within the next few minutes. It's on par for the giddy insanity that is Birds of Prey. (credit: Warner Bros.)

Slowly and doggedly, DC Comics' filmmaking division has been crawling back to relevance. Since the 2016 film that shall not be named, the results have been uneven, with Wonder Woman, Shazam, and Joker's mostly-thumbs-up results being balanced out by the stink of Suicide Squad, Justice League, and Aquaman.

It's been a positive enough trajectory to set the table for this week's stellar Birds of Prey, which appears to benefit from the DC powers-that-be telling its writer, director, and crew to go completely nuts. This bombastic, hypercolor explosion of filmmaking is exactly what the comic-film industry needs: equal parts slapdash and artfully arranged, designed to please anyone who wants more depth and weight in a "light," humor-focused comic film. I went into its screening expecting a killer performance from Margot Robbie as Harley Quinn, which came true. I left surprised and stunned by the rest of the film's bloody, candy-colored pieces falling into place around her performance.

I shaved my what for this?

Let's start with the film's easiest point of praise. DC Comics' Bronx-accented scoundrel Harley Quinn steps out of the shadow of her usual criminal-clown boyfriend, and the results, in Robbie's nimble hands, rank at the top of the modern comic-film acting pantheon. Unlike her performance in Suicide Squad, where the character wavered between "lead" and "sidekick" status, her return in BoP enjoys a front-and-center placement, which the actor relishes.

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