Birds Of Prey Makes Me Yawn

I’m a woman, okay?

Living in this world of unequal pay, #metoo and general asshattery, something like Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Empancipation of one Harley Quinn, should (I guess) get me all worked-up to corral a group of my girlfriends, get totally lit, and spend an evening at the movie theater watching women kick villainous ass.

But it’s not doing that. Not at all. Maybe if you watch the trailer you can explain to me why:

Harley Quinn quits Joker. She brings Black Canary, Huntress and Renee Montoya into the fold and the lot of them work to “save a young girl from an evil crime lord” named none other than the lazy naming convention of Black Mask.

At least they used Björk in the trailer.

But other than that refreshing little musical interlude, the trailer does nothing for me. There’s nothing in this that we haven’t already seen. Fighting, kicking, punching, laughing, mugging, throwing, hugging, running, flipping, singing and grinning.

I don’t care about Harley Quinn. Or Black Canary. Or the Huntress. You might get me to care about Renee Montoya, if I knew who she was, or why we’re calling her by her first and last name, and where Rosie Perez has been since White Men Can’t Jump, but already as I type this I can’t help but think about how great a movie White Men Can’t Jump was and how I’ve longed to spend more time with Rosie Perez and wasn’t she in Jacob’s Ladder with Tim Robbins and why did I even italicize Tim Robbins name just then, and boy weren’t the movies of the 80’s way better and more original than movies like Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of Children of a Lesser God)?

See, the idea of Birds of Prey can’t even hold my attention for more than a few seconds, and then I’m thinking about something else entirely.

And remember when whatshisname (Jared Leto) played Joker in the not-good-Joker movie that was called Suicide Squad, and apparently when we rejoin Harley and Joker now in this movie they’ve broken up or he’s died or something, but mind you, Joaquin Phoenix isn’t dead, and what a crazy scene in Joker when he finally gets on the show with Robert DeNiro and he busts a cap in his head (spoiler!) and starts an entire riot in the streets of Gotham City? Off the hook, right?

But there I go again. I stopped thinking about Birds of Prey and started thinking about something far more interesting to myself, like the damn movie Joker.

Some people have said that this movie became an R-Rated movie since Joker did so well in theaters, and that’s all nice and good, but that clearly tells me that whatever they already had shot in this movie was far more tame, far more along the lines of My Little Pony and far less along the lines of Joker which means you’re getting something that’s been re-engineered to within a minute of its life.

Which just makes me wonder, when the hell are we going to be able to freeze people cryogenically like in the movies? Or face-swap, like in Face/Off? You know, Will Smith, who was in Suicide Squad wasn’t in Face/Off but if they ever did a remake of Face/Off (which they are doing) they should hire Will Smith to play one of the two dudes in that film.

Sorry. We were talking about, what was it? Oh right. Birds of Prey.

I literally can’t stay focused because there is no anchor here for me to hold onto. The rest of Harley Quinn’s crew are so milquetoast to me that they’re all blurring into each other. They don’t even figure into the trailer in any significant way. There’s just so much Harley this, Harley that, and haven’t we seen enough of Harley Quinn and her huge boobs the first time around?

I’m having trouble staying awake, here, people.

That’s because if you’re not a comic book fangirl who has tracked these characters for years and has dressed up as them in a cosplay fantasy at a variety of comic-cons over the years, this movie doesn’t look any better than some animated half hour show on Disney XD. And if you’re Warner Bros. and you’re counting on a wider audience seeing this, you may be shit outta luck.

The boys? Well, that’s a different story.

The pre-pubescent fanboys (which accounts for all men between the ages of 12 and 42) love nothing more than seeing hot women kick major ass. They’re probably going to be out in force seeing Birds of Prey. And that’s fine. Because isn’t that what they do with their hard-earned money?

But the women? Like me?

I don’t give a shit. In fact, this whole thing just makes me yawn.

But Björk?

Now she can kick some major swan-ass.

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