Joker (Review)

Joker Has One Hell of a Punchline!

Even before hitting theaters, Joker has been marred with controversy over the fear that its themes will speak to an obnoxious (and potentially dangerous) minority of the population, called incels. After seeing it, I have no doubt that there will be some self-pitying fools that will latch onto this movie because “the Joker is just like them.” Those that do clearly weren’t paying attention to this newest incarnation of Batman’s greatest villain. While we’ve seen our share of “crazy” Jokers in the past (most notably Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight), we’ve never seen one that is mentally ill. There lies the power of this film as Joaquin Phoenix turns in one of the most stunning portrayals of the character I’ve ever seen. There also lies the problem with Joker, because while it might be an incredible character study, it’s not much more than that.

Gotham city is a hell hole. Fans of Batman probably always knew this, but Joker paints it as a powder keg ready to explode. The masses are disenfranchised victims of the wealthy forced to do whatever they can just to make it through the day (definitely something audiences will be able to relate to), and strikes and budget cuts are pushing everyone to the edge. This is where Arthur comes in (Phoenix). A troubled man struggling to find happiness in a world that is sorely lacking. He clings to the idea that he can bring joy and laughter to it through either his job as a creepy clown or his dream of being a stand-up comedian. The film takes a page from Alan Moore’s philosophy on the Joker, “All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy,” as it continuously tries to knock Arthur down over and over, begging the question of what day will be bad enough to break him. Audiences don’t have to wait long to find out, as a cumulation of events breaks him and rebuilds him as the Joker.  

Phoenix is an absolute powerhouse in Joker. We’ve seen many versions of the character before, with the likes of Jack Nicholson (the mobster), Heath Ledger (the anarchist), and Jared Leto (the psycho) give their interpretation of the character, but I’ve never seen one so grounded and yet terrifying. Phoenix’s take on the character is one that suffers from a slew of debilitating mental illnesses. The most notable of which is pathological laughter when he gets anxious and boy is he an anxious guy. As the film goes on, his version slowly begins to dissociate more and more with the world around him as it knocks him down over and over again. It gets to a point where he starts to dance to music that no one else can hear, creating a surreal experience when he’s at his most unstable. Desperately trying to find his place in the world, this Joker is one unsure of who or what he’s supposed to be, which makes it all the more shocking when he becomes a symbol for the unwashed masses of Gotham.

The film places a tremendous focus on mental health. Arthur starts the movie with a visit to his social worker (Sharon Washington) a woman who is too tired and overworked to be effective at her job. It’s a hard look at a system that is supposed to be there to support those who need it most in society but is dreadfully underfunded (possible commentary on the Ragan era approach to funding similar facilities). In the beginning, Arthur just wants to feel better and hopes that he can make something of his life. Bit by bit those hopes are stripped from him and he starts a spiral that not even he is sure how it will end. I don’t want to spoil the film for you, but the character is dealt some heavy blows. Still, Phoenix’s take on the character never tries to justify his brutal actions, only provide context for how a man might be driven to this point. Anyone who identifies with this version of the Joker definitely needs to see a mental health professional ASAP.

While Phoenix might have a vision of the character, director Todd Phillips doesn’t seem to know exactly what he wants Joker to say about the infamous villain. He recently made comments about woke culture that suggests he might be similar to those many feared would find inspiration from Joker. His vision of the Joker almost seems counter-intuitive to Phoenix’s performance at time. There are moments where the film tries to invoke sympathy for the character, painting him as a product of society. The result of the government abandoning those that need help the most. As the film goes on, it becomes more and more confusing what the movie is trying to say. Is he a victim? Is he a monster? Are they excusing his behavior? Are there no excuses for his actions? It might be meant to be up to the audience to interpret this, but given the social and political tensions in America today, Phillips really should have made it clear that while Joker might see himself as a victim and hero, he’s most definitely a villain. 

 As I said, Joker is an incredible character study, and Phoenix deserves credit for an intense and dedicated performance (he took a note from Christian Bale in The Machinist and dropped an insane amount of weight for the role). However, even with such an intriguing character, Joker is a bit underwhelming. We spend all this time waiting for this great metamorphosis and the Joker finally emerges from his cacoon only to flap his wings once or twice before the credits roll. This is a far cry from the typical comic book movies fans have seen, but it’s one that I definitely recommend. There might not be any rooftop fights, grandiose heists or plots to blow up city hall, but I definitely think comic fans will enjoy this thoughtful look into the creation of one of the most iconic villains of all time.