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Kristy H (1252 KP) rated Mrs. Everything in Books
Jun 21, 2019
Jo and Bethie, sisters growing up in 1950s Detroit, are leading rather rigid lives. Jo is the troubled and angry older sister--the "different" one, while Bethie is the adored, perfect younger sister. Jo feels completely misunderstood by their mother, Sarah, but at least she has their father to act as a go-between. But, as the sisters grow up and move out, they somehow find their roles and lives changing. Bethie becomes the free spirit: the one unable to settle down and please their mother. Meanwhile, Jo marries and leads a picture-perfect life with her husband and children. Yet, deep down, neither sister is truly happy. Is it too late for either Jo or Bethie to find the life they really want?
This is a really wonderful novel from Jennifer Weiner. In the beginning, she states that she always wanted to write about a woman like her mom, who was born in the 40s, came of age in the 60s, married and had children, but then divorced and ended up falling in love with a woman. By then, times had changed and she could live a very different life than when she was born. Framing the story in this way makes perfect sense, and I think Weiner has more than fulfilled her goal. She's written a gorgeous and sweeping epic novel, starting with Jo and Bethie as children and continuing throughout the majority of their lives.
The novel, as mentioned, starts with Jo and Bethie as kids, moving into a new house in Michigan. Each is hopeful for a new start to their small kid-sized lives. Already Jo is feeling different. The book is told from both Jo and Bethie's perspectives, and Weiner does a wonderful job of not only capturing each of their own unique voices, but telling the story from their perspective at that particular time period.
"But maybe, in this new place, she could make a fresh start. Maybe here, she could be a good girl."
From the beginning, we clearly see how much trouble Jo is to her mother, and how she struggles with her feelings of being different. She's a tomboy who hates dresses and loves sports. She doesn't want to date the boys that her other classmates fawn over. I had no idea that the book was going to cover Jo's sexuality in this way, and it was such a pleasant surprise. It's so well-done. I loved the unexpected storyline about this intelligent and strong girl/woman struggling with her sexual orientation during a time period where it not at all accepted: it was very poignant and touching.
"I am going to leave here, she thought. I am going to read, and I am going to write. I am going to find a girl who is brave enough to love me, and I am going to have the kind of life I want."
So this book touches on a lot of tough subjects--racism, immigration, feminism, sexual orientation, religion, sexual assault, and more. It offers a discussion on womanhood, motherhood, marriage, and the options available to women (or not). Perhaps in the hands of a lesser author, this would all be too much, but through Weiner's deft writing, it's really truly beautifully done. The book spans a huge time period, but it never feels rushed or as if too much is crammed in. Once you get into Jo and Bethie's story, you're there: you are part of the family. And truly, this is a story of family at its core. A bitter family, perhaps, at times. It's a story of how certain moments can change the course of your life. But it's also a story of love and sisterhood, in all its many forms.
"'You think I ruined your life? Well I think you ruined mine.'"
Overall, this is a really lovely book. It's heartbreaking at times, for sure, and I cried at the end, but it's a testament to how much I fell for these two sisters. Its story of strength and love is a wonderful theme. It's a book for and about women, with some excellent messaging about women and society. (Wow, so much has changed and yet so little, it seems.) I certainly recommend this one. 4.5 stars.
This is a really wonderful novel from Jennifer Weiner. In the beginning, she states that she always wanted to write about a woman like her mom, who was born in the 40s, came of age in the 60s, married and had children, but then divorced and ended up falling in love with a woman. By then, times had changed and she could live a very different life than when she was born. Framing the story in this way makes perfect sense, and I think Weiner has more than fulfilled her goal. She's written a gorgeous and sweeping epic novel, starting with Jo and Bethie as children and continuing throughout the majority of their lives.
The novel, as mentioned, starts with Jo and Bethie as kids, moving into a new house in Michigan. Each is hopeful for a new start to their small kid-sized lives. Already Jo is feeling different. The book is told from both Jo and Bethie's perspectives, and Weiner does a wonderful job of not only capturing each of their own unique voices, but telling the story from their perspective at that particular time period.
"But maybe, in this new place, she could make a fresh start. Maybe here, she could be a good girl."
From the beginning, we clearly see how much trouble Jo is to her mother, and how she struggles with her feelings of being different. She's a tomboy who hates dresses and loves sports. She doesn't want to date the boys that her other classmates fawn over. I had no idea that the book was going to cover Jo's sexuality in this way, and it was such a pleasant surprise. It's so well-done. I loved the unexpected storyline about this intelligent and strong girl/woman struggling with her sexual orientation during a time period where it not at all accepted: it was very poignant and touching.
"I am going to leave here, she thought. I am going to read, and I am going to write. I am going to find a girl who is brave enough to love me, and I am going to have the kind of life I want."
So this book touches on a lot of tough subjects--racism, immigration, feminism, sexual orientation, religion, sexual assault, and more. It offers a discussion on womanhood, motherhood, marriage, and the options available to women (or not). Perhaps in the hands of a lesser author, this would all be too much, but through Weiner's deft writing, it's really truly beautifully done. The book spans a huge time period, but it never feels rushed or as if too much is crammed in. Once you get into Jo and Bethie's story, you're there: you are part of the family. And truly, this is a story of family at its core. A bitter family, perhaps, at times. It's a story of how certain moments can change the course of your life. But it's also a story of love and sisterhood, in all its many forms.
"'You think I ruined your life? Well I think you ruined mine.'"
Overall, this is a really lovely book. It's heartbreaking at times, for sure, and I cried at the end, but it's a testament to how much I fell for these two sisters. Its story of strength and love is a wonderful theme. It's a book for and about women, with some excellent messaging about women and society. (Wow, so much has changed and yet so little, it seems.) I certainly recommend this one. 4.5 stars.
Eleanor Luhar (47 KP) rated Nothing Tastes as Good in Books
Jun 24, 2019
I happened to see this book by chance, in my local library. I was drawn to it because it's cover, it's title - I'm anorexic, and I happen to be drawn to things relating to mental health. It doesn't expressly say on it that it's about anorexia, but the cover made it pretty obvious to me. A warning to anyone that wants to read it: it's hard. If you suffer from something like this, like me, then you will probably have difficulty reading something so close to home. Especially if you're recovering. But it gets better. (I mean the book; I'm not using that "life gets better" crap.)
So Annabel is dead. I'm studying The Lovely Bones at school so the whole beyond-death narration isn't that special to me now. But Hennessy does it pretty differently to Sebold.
We don't know much about Annabel, not at first. But we begin to learn about her while she helps her assigned "soul-in-need" - The Boss (definitely not God) has promised her a final communication with her family if she helps Julia. And this looks easy, at first - Julia is from Annabel's old school, with a loving family and good grades. Everything is fine, except she's fat. Annabel thinks this should be easy - after all, she's an expert in weight loss. She lost weight until she died.
But Annabel soon finds out that Julia's issues are a whole lot more complex than her weight. At first, losing weight helps. But then her old scars come back to haunt her, and Annabel realises that maybe losing weight isn't going to fix all her problems.
Aside from the obvious issue, this book does talk about a lot of important topics. It covers friendships and relationships, like most YA novels do, but it also combats ideas on feminism, affairs with older men, and people all having their own hidden demons.
At first, I wasn't keen on Annabel. I wanted to like her - I felt I should, because I could relate to her story so much. But she was a bitch. She wanted other people to be like her, and rather than encouraging recovery and health and happiness, she shared tipped on weight loss. It really did hurt to read. Her ideas on "perfection" and being weak for eating just really hit a nerve for me. Not because it was wrong (though I'd never encourage an eating disorder in someone else), but because it's exactly how I'd think about myself. Her behaviours, her worries, her anger - they were so real.
But Annabel, despite being dead, grows alongside Julia. Yes, she tells Julia to starve herself and run on an empty stomach and hate herself, but eventually she starts to feel for her. She wants Julia to combat her issues, to actually be happy. And she realises, despite having been so upset with her old friends for recovering, that maybe she wasted her life. Maybe she could have been something more, rather than striving to be less.
I found this really emotional. Annabel's love for her sister, the sister she neglected for years while she was focused on her goals, and the future she cut short. The way Julia's life changed when her passion for writing and journalism was overtaken by her obsession with food, calories, exercise. It's so real and so sad. And the ending isn't "happily ever after" - Annabel's still dead, Julia's in counselling - but it's real. It gives hope that things can change, that Julia can really achieve happiness.
At first, I didn't like this that much. I know Annabel is just a character, but I just didn't like her. She was one of those girls that makes anorexia sound like a choice, a lifestyle, and I hated that. But later she realises she is sick, and I actually felt sorry for her. I was sorry that she had been brainwashed by her illness into believing she was doing what was right.
The only reason I'm giving just 4.5 stars to this book is because Annabel was a bitch. Yes, she is a character, and yes, she grows considerably throughout the novel, but her encouragement of EDs just drove me insane. Personal pet peeve, I guess.
So Annabel is dead. I'm studying The Lovely Bones at school so the whole beyond-death narration isn't that special to me now. But Hennessy does it pretty differently to Sebold.
We don't know much about Annabel, not at first. But we begin to learn about her while she helps her assigned "soul-in-need" - The Boss (definitely not God) has promised her a final communication with her family if she helps Julia. And this looks easy, at first - Julia is from Annabel's old school, with a loving family and good grades. Everything is fine, except she's fat. Annabel thinks this should be easy - after all, she's an expert in weight loss. She lost weight until she died.
But Annabel soon finds out that Julia's issues are a whole lot more complex than her weight. At first, losing weight helps. But then her old scars come back to haunt her, and Annabel realises that maybe losing weight isn't going to fix all her problems.
Aside from the obvious issue, this book does talk about a lot of important topics. It covers friendships and relationships, like most YA novels do, but it also combats ideas on feminism, affairs with older men, and people all having their own hidden demons.
At first, I wasn't keen on Annabel. I wanted to like her - I felt I should, because I could relate to her story so much. But she was a bitch. She wanted other people to be like her, and rather than encouraging recovery and health and happiness, she shared tipped on weight loss. It really did hurt to read. Her ideas on "perfection" and being weak for eating just really hit a nerve for me. Not because it was wrong (though I'd never encourage an eating disorder in someone else), but because it's exactly how I'd think about myself. Her behaviours, her worries, her anger - they were so real.
But Annabel, despite being dead, grows alongside Julia. Yes, she tells Julia to starve herself and run on an empty stomach and hate herself, but eventually she starts to feel for her. She wants Julia to combat her issues, to actually be happy. And she realises, despite having been so upset with her old friends for recovering, that maybe she wasted her life. Maybe she could have been something more, rather than striving to be less.
I found this really emotional. Annabel's love for her sister, the sister she neglected for years while she was focused on her goals, and the future she cut short. The way Julia's life changed when her passion for writing and journalism was overtaken by her obsession with food, calories, exercise. It's so real and so sad. And the ending isn't "happily ever after" - Annabel's still dead, Julia's in counselling - but it's real. It gives hope that things can change, that Julia can really achieve happiness.
At first, I didn't like this that much. I know Annabel is just a character, but I just didn't like her. She was one of those girls that makes anorexia sound like a choice, a lifestyle, and I hated that. But later she realises she is sick, and I actually felt sorry for her. I was sorry that she had been brainwashed by her illness into believing she was doing what was right.
The only reason I'm giving just 4.5 stars to this book is because Annabel was a bitch. Yes, she is a character, and yes, she grows considerably throughout the novel, but her encouragement of EDs just drove me insane. Personal pet peeve, I guess.
I have a tough time reviewing books about Black Feminism. I enjoy reading them - well, maybe "enjoy" isn't quite the right word. They can be tough. I am glad to have read them. But how to review them? I'm a white woman, it's not really my place to critique these works. But it would be remiss of me to not talk about them - denying them the same space on my blog that I give to everything else I read is its own kind of erasure. I'm not sure how best to resolve this, but for this specific book, at least, I can talk about what I learned from it.
What I learned is that some of my childhood was straight-up racist. I always thought of my childhood as pretty idyllic - my parents were high school sweethearts, and to this day still adore each other. We lived in a house my parents owned. (My most formative years were actually spent in the house my mother grew up in; my parents bought it from my grandparents when I was seven.) We got to run around and play on a quiet neighborhood street where we knew all of our neighbors. We had pets of various species, we got technology fairly quickly since my father was a computer geek, we had a garden out back that Mom canned beans out of every year.
But I was homeschooled until eighth grade. (With Bob Jones and Abeka Books, notoriously Christian curriculum. I thought humans lived with dinosaurs well into my twenties.) We went to a conservative Christian church every Sunday. (And Tuesday. And some Fridays.) While my parents taught that I could be anything I wanted to be, the church definitely over rode that with "women should be subservient to men" and "don't trust your own judgment, ask God/your parents/the elders."
The incident that Jerkins' book brought back to mind, though, was a party I went to. I'm pretty sure it was someone's birthday party, but at a church. Not our church. There were a lot of people, though, so I could be wrong about the birthday party. It was this party where I got the tiny scar in my eyebrow - some kid broke the bat on the pinata and threw it behind him, where it hit me in the face. Before that, though, was the cake walk. There were footprints laid out on the concrete floor, and we paced around them while music played, kind of like musical chairs, I think. (I was younger than ten, my memory is a little fuzzy.) I won the cake! I thought nothing of this until reading This Will Be My Undoing.
"The cakewalk was a dance performed in the late nineteenth century at slave get-togethers. You lean or rear back and kick your feet out left and right or vice versa as you move forward......White people would watch them dance, fascinated by the exoticness of it all. These spectacles were purposeful humiliations. But the cakewalk evolved as slaves' own form of subversion. While serving at large and fancy parties in the early 1800s, they would watch well-to-do white people perform strict and stiff dances, like cotillions and quadrilles, and mimic them, exaggerating the bowing and small skips and hops and adding some high steps and jumps. In diaries kept by white people in the antebellum South, the cakewalk is not depicted as a form of satire. After all, why would a sweet slave mock his benevolent master? To white people's eyes, this imitation seemed like flattery. They were delighted that the slaves were attempting their civilized dances. In fact, they would hold competitions and the winning slaves would receive a cake, hence the name. Yet they were being mocked, right in front of their faces."
WHY WAS THIS BEING HELD AT A CHURCH PARTY? I don't recall if it was all white kids, but it probably was. My hometown was not very ethnically diverse. The more I learn - academically, politically, socially, secularly - the more I realize my childhood was pretty fucked up in a lot of different ways. I don't know if it was more or less fucked up than most white kids' childhoods - white supremacy is insidious. I was an ignorant child at the time, but to realize, decades later, how racist holding a cakewalk is, stopped me in my tracks. (Incidentally, this means that calling something "a cakewalk" has its roots in racism, like so many other things in our language. Cakewalks weren't easy - but the best dancers made them look that way.)
So that's what I can say about this book. I learned something about my childhood. Beyond that, all I will offer is that Jerkins is an excellent writer; the book flows well and is an easy read, despite the subject matter not being easy. Read it. It's important.
You can find all my reviews at http://goddessinthestacks.com
What I learned is that some of my childhood was straight-up racist. I always thought of my childhood as pretty idyllic - my parents were high school sweethearts, and to this day still adore each other. We lived in a house my parents owned. (My most formative years were actually spent in the house my mother grew up in; my parents bought it from my grandparents when I was seven.) We got to run around and play on a quiet neighborhood street where we knew all of our neighbors. We had pets of various species, we got technology fairly quickly since my father was a computer geek, we had a garden out back that Mom canned beans out of every year.
But I was homeschooled until eighth grade. (With Bob Jones and Abeka Books, notoriously Christian curriculum. I thought humans lived with dinosaurs well into my twenties.) We went to a conservative Christian church every Sunday. (And Tuesday. And some Fridays.) While my parents taught that I could be anything I wanted to be, the church definitely over rode that with "women should be subservient to men" and "don't trust your own judgment, ask God/your parents/the elders."
The incident that Jerkins' book brought back to mind, though, was a party I went to. I'm pretty sure it was someone's birthday party, but at a church. Not our church. There were a lot of people, though, so I could be wrong about the birthday party. It was this party where I got the tiny scar in my eyebrow - some kid broke the bat on the pinata and threw it behind him, where it hit me in the face. Before that, though, was the cake walk. There were footprints laid out on the concrete floor, and we paced around them while music played, kind of like musical chairs, I think. (I was younger than ten, my memory is a little fuzzy.) I won the cake! I thought nothing of this until reading This Will Be My Undoing.
"The cakewalk was a dance performed in the late nineteenth century at slave get-togethers. You lean or rear back and kick your feet out left and right or vice versa as you move forward......White people would watch them dance, fascinated by the exoticness of it all. These spectacles were purposeful humiliations. But the cakewalk evolved as slaves' own form of subversion. While serving at large and fancy parties in the early 1800s, they would watch well-to-do white people perform strict and stiff dances, like cotillions and quadrilles, and mimic them, exaggerating the bowing and small skips and hops and adding some high steps and jumps. In diaries kept by white people in the antebellum South, the cakewalk is not depicted as a form of satire. After all, why would a sweet slave mock his benevolent master? To white people's eyes, this imitation seemed like flattery. They were delighted that the slaves were attempting their civilized dances. In fact, they would hold competitions and the winning slaves would receive a cake, hence the name. Yet they were being mocked, right in front of their faces."
WHY WAS THIS BEING HELD AT A CHURCH PARTY? I don't recall if it was all white kids, but it probably was. My hometown was not very ethnically diverse. The more I learn - academically, politically, socially, secularly - the more I realize my childhood was pretty fucked up in a lot of different ways. I don't know if it was more or less fucked up than most white kids' childhoods - white supremacy is insidious. I was an ignorant child at the time, but to realize, decades later, how racist holding a cakewalk is, stopped me in my tracks. (Incidentally, this means that calling something "a cakewalk" has its roots in racism, like so many other things in our language. Cakewalks weren't easy - but the best dancers made them look that way.)
So that's what I can say about this book. I learned something about my childhood. Beyond that, all I will offer is that Jerkins is an excellent writer; the book flows well and is an easy read, despite the subject matter not being easy. Read it. It's important.
You can find all my reviews at http://goddessinthestacks.com
I tried to avoid much about this before seeing it and despite the internet being what it is I somehow managed to avoid spoilers.
Harley is fresh off a breakup and she's looking for something to help her bounce back. When she finds the perfect way it's liberating, she's a whole new woman... she's also the managed to declare open season on herself. The who's who of Gotham villainy are looking for revenge and there's no one to protect her.
In the inevitable chaos she leaves in her wake she comes across a group of ladies who are all in need of some new friends.
I went in expecting something with a bit of sass, that's all I really had in mind before seeing it, violence and sass. It certainly didn't disappoint on that level. But there was some confusion for me because there was a lot of film without actually feeling we were into the meat of the story... or what I had assumed was the main point of the film. That fact left me pondering about whether this should have had a different title.
The opening was a particular surprise, it was so different and it really worked. It provided a quick recap on what we'd missed between previous offerings and did it in such a fun way. I loved the animation style and it had some nods of nostalgia in there too.
Being the villain with a touch of hero puts Harley on a level with other characters and films, there are many little flashes throughout that remind me of Deadpool and Suicide Squad. Even with those nods it definitely takes on its own twist. There's no denying that Harley is a great character, and Robbie plays her fantastically, but she's been done wrong by being given a film without the proper credit of it... Birds of Prey: And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn... As I said above, perhaps this name was misplaced. Giving the Birds Of Prey headline billing makes you think you're getting something very different. Traditionally you would go from existing content to new... here's Harley and introducing Birds Of Prey... but while the story does that the title does the complete opposite. I don't know why they wouldn't just have given the honour to Harley instead of a rather fanciful footnote of a subtitle.
Harley has some great moments in this film, the emotion on her face when she works out how to get closure and then this...
[sadly no amazing gif in this review, you can see it on my blog, link below]
I can see the whole thing as being within her personality, but somehow not the end of the film, that's the bit that didn't feel right to me.
The whole film feels like a set up for an actual Birds Of Prey film, but I'm not sure any of the characters really got their due. Renee Montoya was originally a character made for Batman's part of Gotham, not Harley's, she was affected by the corruption of the Police Department and her story feels like it was much more serious and dark there than it was here. Black Canary, again, doesn't seem to live up to existing backstory, though her caring nature in this is a welcome addition and she probably does the best out of the story. Huntress' story is a general amalgam of existing things, but she doesn't develop much, the fact that she's "new" to this lifestyle is played on a lot and her inexperience is used for humour most of the time. Cassandra Cain is probably the worst pickpocket in Gotham and yet somehow manages to steal a lot of stuff, what's more frustrating here is that the name holds a lot of weight in the DCEU but not in this film.
There are a lot of "main" characters and that doesn't help matters, but when they interact they all work quite well together. I don't think it would have hurt to have Montoya there in a lesser capacity, and the same goes for Cain. Neither character in this incarnation do a lot, though Cain physically has an important part to play.
Ewan McGregor's Roman Sionis/Black Mask. From the trailer I was keen to see what McGregor would do with this villainous role. It looked like it was going to be great, but the final product wasn't what I'd hoped for. Whether it was the reshoots or it was never there in the first place I don't know but it's a chaotic performance that probably should have been left to a new character. Naming him would have been fine if they'd actually given him the necessary story to explain him. As it is we get a glimpse of Black Mask and his gang but it doesn't mean a lot, and in the end it's a rather wasted opportunity.
There are a lot of things I want to say so I think I'm just going to list them off for a bit and then get back to something sensible...
Bojana Novakovic scene where she's on the table. It's completely out of place, there are plenty of ways to show Roman's paranoia and his bizarrely toxic relationship with Zsasz and any of them would have been better than this. The only good thing to take from it is that Black Canary has a really strong performance in it.
LGBT representation. There's so much of it and yet none whatsoever. They show us that Harley had a girlfriend in the past. Montoya is gay and we see the tatters of her relationship with Ellen Yee in a couple of brief exchanges. Roman and Zsasz... their relationship is an odd one, while not acknowledged as being gay they do have a very close bond. It could just be that they enable the destructive kindred spirit in each other, but Zsasz does have a jealous side that appears randomly. So like I said, there's a lot of inclusivity and yet none of it really get much airtime, and certainly not positive airtime.
Harley's narration and what it means for the story. The internet loves its controversy and one of the things with Birds Of Prey is that it's feminism gone made because all men are depicted as bad in the film. What I would say to that is that Harley is the narrator. She's fresh off her breakup with the Joker and she's angry... if she's telling this story the men are either going to be non-descript (police officers minding their own business in her attack) or bad (actual villains, minions or people who have wronged her friends who would therefore be bad in her mind). By that logic it's a really consistent narrative.
I think I've covered most of the random musings there.
Action in Birds Of Prey is really fun, but a little frustrating at times. The police station raid that we see in the trailer is brilliant and I love Harley's fun gun, it's a magical thing to watch and the explosions of colour add a great twist. It's really well choreographed and I actually think it builds well on Harley's changing nature from Suicide Squad. I do have issues with this same sequence though. Those sprinklers, there's no need for it apart from some added flair when they fight... and of course the bad guys all queue up to fight her one by one, very considerate. It then progresses to the evidence room and I don't think they took enough advantage of that for comedic effect, though I did like that it taught me a great technique for escaping an attacker and Harley got a great trick shot in.
The other big sequence is the finale where our leading ladies face off against those evil men inside the fun house (not the Pat Sharp one). There are a lot of oversized props and Cain is just kind of tossed around the set like a ragdoll but there are some amusing moments to be had out of it. My issue with this one is that they don't think things through and they get themselves into something that was entirely avoidable.
Design of everything from costumes to sets is fabulous, the colours in particular really jump out. The camerawork is great too and I enjoyed the slightly hyper nature to it with the way it switches up within scenes. Music choices are brilliant too and I've been on Spotify and got the songs to listen to, none of this album malarkey though, I found a list online of all the song, don't do it by halves... Barracuda and Black Betty need to be on your playlist!
I know I kind of fluffed over those bits very quickly but honestly I don't know how you're still reading this review at this point.
So, in conclusion... there are a lot of flaws, on first viewing I loved the beginning but felt let down by the end. My second viewing went a very similar way, though the divide blurred away a little bit. Even with these issues I really enjoyed Birds Of Prey, the acting is all good (it's only the characters I have problems with) and it's just crazy fun. People pick at the way DCEU films have been going, but honestly, I'm loving it.
Originally posted on: https://emmaatthemovies.blogspot.com/2020/02/birds-of-prey-movie-review.html
Harley is fresh off a breakup and she's looking for something to help her bounce back. When she finds the perfect way it's liberating, she's a whole new woman... she's also the managed to declare open season on herself. The who's who of Gotham villainy are looking for revenge and there's no one to protect her.
In the inevitable chaos she leaves in her wake she comes across a group of ladies who are all in need of some new friends.
I went in expecting something with a bit of sass, that's all I really had in mind before seeing it, violence and sass. It certainly didn't disappoint on that level. But there was some confusion for me because there was a lot of film without actually feeling we were into the meat of the story... or what I had assumed was the main point of the film. That fact left me pondering about whether this should have had a different title.
The opening was a particular surprise, it was so different and it really worked. It provided a quick recap on what we'd missed between previous offerings and did it in such a fun way. I loved the animation style and it had some nods of nostalgia in there too.
Being the villain with a touch of hero puts Harley on a level with other characters and films, there are many little flashes throughout that remind me of Deadpool and Suicide Squad. Even with those nods it definitely takes on its own twist. There's no denying that Harley is a great character, and Robbie plays her fantastically, but she's been done wrong by being given a film without the proper credit of it... Birds of Prey: And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn... As I said above, perhaps this name was misplaced. Giving the Birds Of Prey headline billing makes you think you're getting something very different. Traditionally you would go from existing content to new... here's Harley and introducing Birds Of Prey... but while the story does that the title does the complete opposite. I don't know why they wouldn't just have given the honour to Harley instead of a rather fanciful footnote of a subtitle.
Harley has some great moments in this film, the emotion on her face when she works out how to get closure and then this...
[sadly no amazing gif in this review, you can see it on my blog, link below]
I can see the whole thing as being within her personality, but somehow not the end of the film, that's the bit that didn't feel right to me.
The whole film feels like a set up for an actual Birds Of Prey film, but I'm not sure any of the characters really got their due. Renee Montoya was originally a character made for Batman's part of Gotham, not Harley's, she was affected by the corruption of the Police Department and her story feels like it was much more serious and dark there than it was here. Black Canary, again, doesn't seem to live up to existing backstory, though her caring nature in this is a welcome addition and she probably does the best out of the story. Huntress' story is a general amalgam of existing things, but she doesn't develop much, the fact that she's "new" to this lifestyle is played on a lot and her inexperience is used for humour most of the time. Cassandra Cain is probably the worst pickpocket in Gotham and yet somehow manages to steal a lot of stuff, what's more frustrating here is that the name holds a lot of weight in the DCEU but not in this film.
There are a lot of "main" characters and that doesn't help matters, but when they interact they all work quite well together. I don't think it would have hurt to have Montoya there in a lesser capacity, and the same goes for Cain. Neither character in this incarnation do a lot, though Cain physically has an important part to play.
Ewan McGregor's Roman Sionis/Black Mask. From the trailer I was keen to see what McGregor would do with this villainous role. It looked like it was going to be great, but the final product wasn't what I'd hoped for. Whether it was the reshoots or it was never there in the first place I don't know but it's a chaotic performance that probably should have been left to a new character. Naming him would have been fine if they'd actually given him the necessary story to explain him. As it is we get a glimpse of Black Mask and his gang but it doesn't mean a lot, and in the end it's a rather wasted opportunity.
There are a lot of things I want to say so I think I'm just going to list them off for a bit and then get back to something sensible...
Bojana Novakovic scene where she's on the table. It's completely out of place, there are plenty of ways to show Roman's paranoia and his bizarrely toxic relationship with Zsasz and any of them would have been better than this. The only good thing to take from it is that Black Canary has a really strong performance in it.
LGBT representation. There's so much of it and yet none whatsoever. They show us that Harley had a girlfriend in the past. Montoya is gay and we see the tatters of her relationship with Ellen Yee in a couple of brief exchanges. Roman and Zsasz... their relationship is an odd one, while not acknowledged as being gay they do have a very close bond. It could just be that they enable the destructive kindred spirit in each other, but Zsasz does have a jealous side that appears randomly. So like I said, there's a lot of inclusivity and yet none of it really get much airtime, and certainly not positive airtime.
Harley's narration and what it means for the story. The internet loves its controversy and one of the things with Birds Of Prey is that it's feminism gone made because all men are depicted as bad in the film. What I would say to that is that Harley is the narrator. She's fresh off her breakup with the Joker and she's angry... if she's telling this story the men are either going to be non-descript (police officers minding their own business in her attack) or bad (actual villains, minions or people who have wronged her friends who would therefore be bad in her mind). By that logic it's a really consistent narrative.
I think I've covered most of the random musings there.
Action in Birds Of Prey is really fun, but a little frustrating at times. The police station raid that we see in the trailer is brilliant and I love Harley's fun gun, it's a magical thing to watch and the explosions of colour add a great twist. It's really well choreographed and I actually think it builds well on Harley's changing nature from Suicide Squad. I do have issues with this same sequence though. Those sprinklers, there's no need for it apart from some added flair when they fight... and of course the bad guys all queue up to fight her one by one, very considerate. It then progresses to the evidence room and I don't think they took enough advantage of that for comedic effect, though I did like that it taught me a great technique for escaping an attacker and Harley got a great trick shot in.
The other big sequence is the finale where our leading ladies face off against those evil men inside the fun house (not the Pat Sharp one). There are a lot of oversized props and Cain is just kind of tossed around the set like a ragdoll but there are some amusing moments to be had out of it. My issue with this one is that they don't think things through and they get themselves into something that was entirely avoidable.
Design of everything from costumes to sets is fabulous, the colours in particular really jump out. The camerawork is great too and I enjoyed the slightly hyper nature to it with the way it switches up within scenes. Music choices are brilliant too and I've been on Spotify and got the songs to listen to, none of this album malarkey though, I found a list online of all the song, don't do it by halves... Barracuda and Black Betty need to be on your playlist!
I know I kind of fluffed over those bits very quickly but honestly I don't know how you're still reading this review at this point.
So, in conclusion... there are a lot of flaws, on first viewing I loved the beginning but felt let down by the end. My second viewing went a very similar way, though the divide blurred away a little bit. Even with these issues I really enjoyed Birds Of Prey, the acting is all good (it's only the characters I have problems with) and it's just crazy fun. People pick at the way DCEU films have been going, but honestly, I'm loving it.
Originally posted on: https://emmaatthemovies.blogspot.com/2020/02/birds-of-prey-movie-review.html