I must admit, I didn’t know what to do with Todd Phillips’s “Joker” at first. The polarizing supervillain drama, based on Batman’s greatest nemesis, dazzled many viewers with its epic photography, its righteous indignation at broken social systems, and Joaquin Phoenix’s eerie and fragile performance as Arthur Fleck. But beneath all that there was a frustrating lack of specificity about what it was actually angry at, and a distracting lack of originality, since it cribbed wholesale from several obvious sources — especially Martin Scorsese’s “Taxi Driver” and “The King of Comedy.”
It took some time but I finally found where I stand with “Joker,” and it’s halfway between the praise and the criticism. All the film’s fine qualities and all of its deficiencies are in a symbiotic relationship, and the derivativeness is their connective tissue. After all, “Joker” is the story of a failed standup comic who only finds acceptance and success after he abandons his craft in favor of flashy, violent performance art. It makes sense that he’d think of his story through the lens of other, better stories because he can’t come up with any good material on his own. Arthur Fleck is the new patron saint of mediocrity, and “Joker” celebrates that averageness with a strange melange of fine craftsmanship and tacky pretension.
It’s an interpretation that seems all the more fitting after watching the strange sequel, “Joker: Folie à Deux,” which just had its world premiere at the Venice Film Festival. (Talk about pretension: even the title screams “film student trying too hard.”) But unlike the original, which finds a perverse heroism in Arthur Fleck’s failings, “Folie à Deux” doubles down on how pathetic he is, and always was. It’s a sad, pensive, and impressively odd motion picture that uses the theatricality of movie musicals to undermine its hero’s ambitions instead of elevating them. There’s no business like show business? It’s, like… no. It’s business, you know?
“Joker: Folie à Deux” takes place two years after Arthur Fleck murdered talk show host Murray Franklin on live TV and incited a riot which orphaned Bruce Wayne, who was probably his secret half-brother (or not, if you want to take the word of a morally-compromised billionaire at face value). Arthur has now spent the last two years in Arkham Asylum awaiting his competency hearing, which is right around the corner.
If Arthur’s found sane his trial will commence, and the death penalty is on the table, so his lawyer Maryanne Stewart (Catherine Keener) tries to prove it wasn’t Arthur who killed all those people — it was a separate personality who calls himself “Joker.” But even Arthur doesn’t seem so sure. All he knows is that there’s another inmate, Lee Quinzel (Lady Gaga), who loves Joker very much. She even saw a TV movie they made about Arthur, a whole bunch of times.
Todd Phillips co-wrote both “Joker” movies with Scott Silver, and they keep bringing up this TV movie, and frankly? It’s rude that they never show a frame of it. Who would they even have got to star in it back in 1983? Mark Harmon? Keir Dullea? Larry Drake? (Oh, I bet it was Paul Michael Glaser. That would be perfectly imperfect.)
Anyway, Arthur is suddenly re-energized by the possibility that somebody loves him, even if they might not love him for who he really is. Or for only half of him. And since they meet in Arkham’s music therapy class, Arthur starts to fantasize about expressing himself through songs. “For once in my life,” he croaks in his head, “I have someone who needs me.” It’s not a subtle sentiment, but then again musicals aren’t exactly renowned for their gritty realism.
“Joker: Folie à Deux” takes the Rob Marshall “Chicago” approach to musical numbers. They take place mostly inside Arthur and Lee’s heads, representing their inner worlds better than their actual circumstances can. Arthur sings at least one song where other people can definitely hear him, and it’s a lot creepier in person than it is in his brain. The whole approach strikes an obvious but effective contrast between Fleck’s reality and his inflated image of himself as an entertainer. (And yes, “Folie à Deux” does qualify as a musical by any meaningful interpretation, no matter what kind of spin they try to put on it.)
The original “Joker” crescendoed into an act of violence and chaos that validated Arthur’s breakdown, if only to himself. He found his audience, he made his impact. What “Folie à Deux” makes clear is that this isn’t a comic book universe where that’s an act of glorious counterculture. Nor is it even all that impressive. Arthur, this film shows again and again, is a pathetic and lonely creature, and everyone who projects greatness upon him or his story is arguably more detached from reality than he is. Or at least a grifter taking advantage of him as a symbol. Even at his most dynamic and powerful, Fleck is a pawn in everyone else’s game.
Lawrence Sher returns as cinematographer for the sequel, and once again he pulls out all the stops. His lighting is rich, his framing is arch, his allegories are often painfully in your face. (When Arthur feels happy, the sun starts to shine on him — get it?.) But again, that’s Arthur’s world. He feels put upon as no other human has ever felt put upon. He feels liberated by love the way no other boyfriend ever felt liberated by love. He sings other people’s songs because he can’t express himself on his own. He’s just not that talented.
Joaquin Phoenix, of course, is incredibly talented, and brings new insights to Arthur Fleck that Arthur himself didn’t seem to understand until now. He’s matched by Lady Gaga, whose interpretation of Harley Quinn runs counter to pretty much every other portrayal. Phillips and Silver’s screenplay uses the basic idea of a Joker groupie as their starting point and pretty much ignores all the rest, creating a new character who fits their world and probably none of the others. Which may be a distraction to some, since Harley Quinn’s fans are a devoted bunch.
What’s most impressive about “Joker: Folie à Deux” is the way Phillips willingly undercuts his own billion-dollar blockbuster. He’s looking inward. Arthur is looking inward. Hopefully the audience will too, and question why they care so much about Arthur Fleck in the first place. Do we really love Arthur or do we just love how his story, itself a glorified TV melodrama about a sad person committing sad crimes for the sake of a sad rubbernecking audience, makes us feel about ourselves?
“Folie à Deux” is the most interesting film about Arthur Fleck. It’s genuinely a little daring, genuinely a little challenging, and genuinely a little genuine. And that’s no joke.
“Joker: Folie á Deux” opens exclusively in theaters on Oct. 4.