Trying to build a portrait of patriarchal power and subjugation that shapes the lives of five women, Birds of Prey takes a solid enough foundation and executes it abysmally, lacking visual style, coherent storytelling, and really any imagination. It’s the worst time José’s endured at the cinema in a year; Mike heroically offers a couple of examples of moments he enjoyed – the flying sandwich – but there’s no rescuing these damsels in distress.
I noticed that Jack the Giant Slayer was still playing and finally went to see it because it’s directed by the man who made The Usual Suspects. I should have remembered Bryan Singer is also responsible for Superman Returns. The film is bloated, charmless and dull. Ian McShane and Ewan McGregor twinkle with decreasing success as the film proceeds; and I’m simply beginning to hate the sight of Stanley Tucci; I suspect the reason he keeps getting cast in so many gay roles is because an air of effetely disdainful superiority, all he currently seems to offer as an actor, is all that casting directors expect an actor to exude in such roles.