WARNING: The following article contains spoilers for Birds of Prey (And The Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn), in theaters now.

Birds of Prey simmers and at times, explodes with enough glitter and neon (and cocaine) to make Joel Schumacher's Batman & Robin look like an understated and sober affair. Not only is it one of DC's most joyfully raucous films to date but, by the tips of Schumacher's nippled Batsuit, it's DC's gayest film to date. A metric that, admittedly -- and unfortunately -- isn't really that hard to beat.

Unlike Batman & Robin, Birds of Prey is overtly queer in both its aesthetics and its characterizations. Its quirky title character's canonical bisexuality from the source material is confirmed during the film's opening animation sequence -- a visual reference to her failed romances of the past with both men and women. The film also clearly, and more prominently, represents hardboiled detective Renee Montoya's comic-book accurate lesbianism in the form of an ex-girlfriend, Gotham's assistant D.A., with whom she must try to maintain a strained working relationship throughout the story.

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Far murkier, however, is the nature of the relationship between the film's two main male villains: the image-conscious Roman Sionis (Black Mask) and his unhinged lackey, Victor Zsasz. Far more than just crime boss and underling, Birds of Prey presents a strong undercurrent of... some kind of chemistry between the pair; sitting somewhere between closeted bachelors living in domestic bliss and a toxic power-play of abuse and obsession.

What we have is the broadest range of intersectional LGBTQ representation ever seen in a superhero film, with not only gay, bisexual and queer men and women, but LGBTQ men and women of color, too. And unlike the tiny moments that landmark queer characters in Avengers: Endgame and Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker were allowed, Birds of Prey's LGBTQ characters are hardly relegated to the background: they're the leads in the film.

While this is all absolutely "fantabulous," there's a strange pattern running through Birds of Prey's LGBTQ representation that also can't go unnoticed: It's all largely off-screen, used either as a merely an interesting facet of the characters' backstories, as is the case with Harley and Renee, or bubbling just below the surface, as is the case with Sionis and Zsasz.

Neither Harley nor Renee have any current relationships with women nor do they flirt or actively allude to their sexualities. The way they're depicted falls under a particular trope category that sits somewhere between queerbaiting and queer erasure; one in which characters are allowed to be queer -- but in name or past exploits only. Harley and Renee's identities are made clear by the references to their romantic pasts, which itself is a form of representation.

It's also worth acknowledging that while we never see Harley express any interest in women, neither do we see her express interest in men. However, as the entire film functions as the ultimate break-up movie -- with a superhero spin -- the romance that looms largest over the entire story is the one she infamously had with the Joker.

This passive acknowledgment is also something Wonder Woman did, with Diana only alluding to possible past relationships with women on Themyscira while never showing any present-day interest in women. Meanwhile, in Birds of Prey, Black Mask and Zsasz's dynamic, while fun to watch, is completely subtextual. It doesn't fall into the Dumbledore camp of "representation" that is so invisible the word loses all meaning, but the aura of forced repression radiating off of them felt like something from a supposedly bygone era of Hollywood.

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The film still deserves high praise for the diversity and (mostly) clarity of its LGBTQ representation, but that representation has a casualness that, while fantastic for normalization purposes, is missing a counterbalance that would earn it the right to such casualness: active on-screen same-sex romances or, at the very least, romantic interest, which is still so rare in films this big.

In retrospect, this makes Deadpool 2 giving Negasonic Teenage Warhead an on-screen girlfriend in Yukio even more of a watershed moment. Interestingly, Birds of Prey and Deadpool 2 are also comparable in their shared R-rating, which only compounds the idea, at the moment, that substantial LGBTQ representation in superhero films is only possible in those aimed at adults -- itself a problematic idea. Not only this, but Fox's Deadpool movies also failed to give us the pansexual Wade Wilson we know from the comics.

Renee Montoya holding a notepad in Birds of Prey

What's more frustrating is that the fixes are so easy. It wouldn't have affected the main plotline, for instance, for Birds of Prey to have Renee's relationship break down during the film rather than before it even starts. Or perhaps to have Harley, in a moment of weakness, drunkenly chatting up men and women at Sionis' club.

Unlike in the comics, the truth of Renee's sexuality isn't the cause of her split with the GCPD, either, which perhaps would have been a heavy dose of unwanted reality in such a lighthearted romp. But, superhero media, far from being pure escapist silliness, is deeply politically rooted. Like post-racial narratives, fictional worlds that are parallel to our own, and free from homophobia, run the risk of playing into the false idea that this kind of hate no longer exists in reality, which could encourage apathy where there should be activism.

These are all complex arguments and fine lines to tread. And, to be honest, there's something to be said for the fact we've gotten to the point where we can even have these debates about mainstream cinema.

LGBTQ characters -- like LGBTQ people -- shouldn't have to be wholly defined by their sexual orientation or gender identities, nor provide "proof" of said orientation or identity. But, when it comes to audiences in our still heteronormative society, a lack of clear, honest and active representation becomes all too easy to brush aside, diminish or even censor to the point of erasure. At the moment, it feels like Hollywood is right at a tipping point with LGBTQ representation in mainstream blockbusters but is still waiting for that final push over the last hurdle. Now, more than ever, is the time to be as uncompromising and gung-ho as Harley herself.

Directed by Cathy Yan from a script by Christina Hodson, Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) stars Margot Robbie, Jurnee Smollett-Bell, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Rosie Perez, Ewan McGregor, Ella Jay Basco, Steven Williams, Derek Wilson, Dana Lee, Francois Chau, Charlene Amoia, Chris Messina and Matthew Willig. The film is now in theaters.

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