Harley Quinn wasn’t destined to be a legend. She first appeared in Batman: The Animated Series as a one-time henchgirl—flaky, crazy, and inexplicably likable.
But then something registered. Her demented charm, tragic history, and deadly chemistry with the Joker made her a fan favorite overnight. She leaped from page to screen, building over time into one of DC’s best-known brands.
And yet, even as the most popular character of her day, Harley’s position in the DC Universe now feels… adrift. Her ascension should have been a rags-to-riches tale. Instead, it’s a study in how a publisher can lose touch with what makes a character great.
Harley’s initial popularity stemmed from the way she walked that line between extremes: comedy and tragedy, loyalty and autonomy, anarchy and vulnerability. Her dynamic with the Joker was of a character who was both victim and villain, and that emotional duality attracted people. As Batman News noted, that initial draw was a large factor in her breakout moment. Therefore, when she finally received the stage in her book, anticipation was high.
Sadly, as her solo popularity grew, so too did the uncertainty over who Harley was supposed to be. Over the past few years, DC’s drive to make her a staple solo character inevitably often meant losing the complexity that made her interesting. Reviews of Harley Quinn: Black, White, and Redder #6 show how her character is now inconsistent—one moment she is a charming crook, the next a brutal anti-hero, then a fourth-wall-breaking comedy relief device. She has been characterized in so many ways that it is difficult to pinpoint where the actual Harley Quinn starts and stops.
This absence of direction is glaring in more recent matters, such as Harley Quinn #15, where, as noted by Batman News, she hardly even appears to be the protagonist of her comic. Batwoman hijacks the story as Harley is relegated to cringeworthy one-liners and meaningless gags (such as a recurring joke about monkeys, which simply doesn’t pay off). What was initially witty character-based comedy now comes across as random rubbish, sucking the humor out of the narrative.
The problem isn’t just bad writing—it’s a larger editorial issue. In Black, White, and Redder #6, Bruno Redondo’s tale practically confesses that Harley’s persona is a moving target. She’s depicted as everything from a preschool cartoon mascot to an R-rated anti-hero. And while adaptability can be an asset, in Harley’s case, it’s left her bereft of any coherence. Fans require something stable to grasp onto—and without it, the bond is severed. That instability is already having its effect: sales are falling, and readers are peacing out.
A lot of this can be laid at DC’s doorstep for its tendency to follow trends. When Deadpool went boom, Harley’s comics attempted to surf on the same tide—hard on the meta humor, breaking the fourth wall, and betting big on absurdity. But Harley Quinn is not Deadpool, and attempting to make her fit that model only made her resemble an imitation. When that avenue grew tired, DC flipped again, attempting to redo her in every conceivable configuration. Rather than honing her voice, they scurried to make her appealing to everyone—and ended up being appealing to nobody.
No wonder then that fans and critics alike are so upset. As Batman News explains, DC has even doubled down when confronted, dismissing criticism rather than responding to it. It’s a concerning trend: admit the backlash, but hold back on remedying the root issue.
All that aside, hope is not lost completely. Sometimes, comics do catch glimpses of the Harley fans came to love. Deniz Camp’s contribution to Black, White, and Redder #6 is such a case, reconciling her brutality with her desperate need to be loved. When artists call upon that duality—her madness and her tenderness—Harley can still amaze.
Ultimately, Harley Quinn isn’t beyond fixing—she’s just lost. Even the most volatile character requires a compass. Without it, none of the reinventions in the world will count. If DC is serious about reclaiming what made Harley great, they need to put aside the fads and begin crafting a lasting, solid vision for her. Otherwise, the story of Harley will be how it ends, not how it begins.