I wrote about the fantasy, obsession and the ordinariness of evil in the new, tuneful “Joker: Folie à Deux” for CTVNews.ca.
“After 2019’s “Joker” nabbed $1 billion box office dollars and a Best Actor Oscar for Joaquin Phoenix, a sequel was certain. What form that sequel would take, however, was less certain…” Read the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: In “Joker: Folie à Deux,” the musical sequel to 2019’s Oscar winning “Joker,” and now playing in theatres, Joaquin Phoenix stars as failed-comedian-turned-murderer Arthur Fleck. Incarcerated at Arkham State Hospital, he awaits trial for his crimes as Joker, when a chance encounter with Harleen “Lee” Quinzel (Lady Gaga) gives him a chance at finding true love.
CAST: Joaquin Phoenix, Lady Gaga, Brendan Gleeson, Catherine Keener, Zazie Beetz. Directed by Todd Phillips.
REVIEW: After 2019’s “Joker” nabbed $1 billion box office dollars and a Best Actor Oscar for Joaquin Phoenix, a sequel was certain.
What form that sequel would take, however, was less certain.
In the risk averse entertainment landscape that is 2024 Hollywood, one would have expected a continuation of Joker’s reign as Gotham City’s most unhinged agent of chaos.
Well, no one will accuse director Todd Phillips, and stars Joaquin Phoenix and Lady Gaga of being risk averse.
For better and for worse, “Joker: Folie à Deux” mixes romance and show tunes with law and order in what may be the bleakest jukebox musical ever made.
Question is, Is the risk worth the reward?
From its animated 1950’s Looney Tunes style opening—a recap of the Joker’s killing of talk show host Murray Franklin (Robert de Niro) on live television—to its starkly staged musical numbers, it is a study in fantasy, the ordinariness of evil and obsession that is sure to deeply divide audiences.
Phillips, working from a script he co-wrote with Scott Silver, wedges big ideas about the commodification of Joker as an entertainment celebrity—underlined by the use of the tune “That’s Entertainment” from the 1953 musical “The Band Wagon”—obsession/delusion and betrayal, into a film that blurs the line between reality and fantasy.
It’s ambitious, like Bob Fosse’s “All That Jazz” filtered through a funhouse mirror, but it’s also frustrating. Frustrating in the sheer volume of underwhelming musical numbers that feel jammed into the story, in its laboured courtroom drama and its underuse of Lady Gaga.
The musical numbers are mostly fantasy sequences and vary from full production numbers to intimate renderings of love songs. Each tune acts as a substitute for dialogue or an inner, emotional soundtrack that only the characters can hear. When it works, it’s a neat trick, but often the songs feel a bit too on-the-nose, as in Gaga’s performance of “(They Long to Be) Close to You,” sung during a prison visit as a thick plate of plexiglass separates them.
The musical numbers are plentiful, performed with a lack of polish—because, the press notes say, neither Arthur or Hartley are professional singers—that works for the authenticity of the characters, but is less interesting for the audience. It’s a device, and, if used sparingly, it could have been a nifty one. As it is, however, when Arthur says, “I don’t wanna sing anymore,” near the end of the film, it seems like the best decision he’s made all along.
As Arthur/Joker, Phoenix transforms himself physically; his slight, bony frame a testimonial to the years of abuse Arthur suffered at the hands of his mother. However, when he puts on the Joker outfit—the garishly coloured suits, shirts and make-up—his shoulders square up and he becomes a different person. It’s an interesting shift and Phoenix embodies it, creating two characters from one source.
Unfortunately, Lady Gaga is given less to do.
The film’s broken heart is Lee’s attraction to Joker. In the film’s first hour, she’s a compelling character, a kind of Mansonesque follower whose curiosity with Arthur/Joker as a rebellious folk hero blossoms into the shared delusional disorder of the title (Folie à Deux). It’s a shame then, when she fades from view during the bulk of the courtroom scenes, discarded in favor of a focus on Arthur’s antics.
“Joker: Folie à Deux” is a bold comic book movie that breaks free of the shackles of the comic book genre, but in doing so blunts the power and the danger of its title character.
Richard and “CTV News at Noon” anchor Michelle Dubé discuss the controversy surrounding the new DC Comics film “Joker.”
Watch the whole thing HERE! (Starts at 31:26)
We will never know what Cesar Romero, the first actor to wear the Joker’s scary clown make up, would think about his old alter ego as interpreted by Joaquin Phoenix in “Joker,” but one thing is for sure, he wouldn’t recognize the nihilistic new take on the character.
Set in a rat-infested Gotham City, the story sees Arthur Fleck, an unstable man doing the best he can with state sponsored therapy and medication. By day he performs as a clown, dancing at children’s hospitals or holding “Going Out of Business” signs on Gotham’s mean streets. At night, when not day dreaming of becoming a stand-up comic, he’s tending to his infirm mother (Frances Conroy). Late at night they cozy up and watch their favorite TV show, a talk show hosted by Merv-Griffin-wannabe Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro). Sometimes Arthur even daydreams that Murray is a warm and loving father figure.
In the real-world things have a grimmer shade. Arthur is constantly harassed by co-workers and, worse, abused by complete strangers. On the day he is fired from his job he fights back, shooting and killing three businessmen who tried to beat him on his subway ride home. When news of the Clown Killer circulates, he becomes the anonymous figurehead of a populist resistance movement. Protestors riot in the streets, wearing clown masks and with signs emblazoned with slogans like We Are All Clowns and Down with Money.
Not that Arthur notices. “I’m not political,” he says. With no job, and, after his therapy program is cancelled, no medication, his extreme behavior escalates. “I’ve got nothing to lose,” he says. “Nothing can hurt me anymore.”
Although ripe with elements from older movies like “Death Wish,” the God’s lonely man favorites “Mean Streets” and Taxi Driver” and echoes from real-life forgotten names like Bernard Goetz, “Joker” is no period piece. It’s as timely as the yesterday’s headlines. A study of everything from alienation and disappointment to the failure of social safety nets and access to weapons, it’s a character study not just of the Joker but of a troubled time. “What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a society who abandoned him?” Joker asks. “You get what you deserve.”
This isn’t a superhero film, there are links and connections to the Batman and Joker stories that came before but this is a horror movie, a look into what happens when the chaos in Arthur’s head becomes manifest. “For my whole life I didn’t know if I existed,” he says, “but now I know I do and people are noticing.” He’s the result of a broken system that turns their back on the mentally ill and underprivileged.
Phoenix, who dropped fifty-two pounds to play the role, displays not just a wasted body, but also spirit in a haunting performance that reinvents the character for a new generation. His take on Arthur finds its roots in marginalized people. “What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loaner with a society who abandoned him?” he asks. “You get what you deserve.” It is a harrowing performance, not always easy to watch, that almost generates sympathy for a broken man who becomes an agent of chaos and one of the DC canon’s greatest villains.
“Joker” drags in its middle section, unpleasantly luxuriating in Arthur’s grim collapse into anarchy, but is held afloat by Phoenix. It may not be a deep or realistic study of mental illness but it showcases Arthur’s weariness at being treated as the cigarette butt under society’s heel.
The message of finding control through vigilante violence is a disturbing one, but IRL it’s one that plays out on the news with disturbing frequency. “Is it just me or is it getting crazier out there?” Arthur asks.
