Skip to main content

Joker (2019)


Jack Nicholson's Joker was iconic.

Mark Hamill's Joker haunted my childhood.

I was in college when Heath Ledger played the part and changed the standard we have for performances in comic book movies. I remember the hubbub when he was cast, and I remember warming to the development with curiosity. And being blown away in the theater when I finally saw the finished product.

We don't talk about Jared Leto.

When WB announced they'd be making a Joker origin story movie, a lot of people groaned. But I was quietly hopeful. Hopeful that they'd allow it to go as deep and dark as some of Snyder and Azzarello and Moore's writing has gone in the comics. Then they cast Joaquin Phoenix, and the hype was palpable.

And then came the controversy about incels and violence and mental health. I tried to stay away from those discussions and approach the film with a blank slate. With zero expectations.

So, here we go. 

I. What Is It?

This is the story of Arthur Fleck (Phoenix), a for-hire clown and aspiring stand up comedian. He's also deeply mentally ill. Only he lives in Gotham, a city where the trash is piling up on the streets, and where mental health programs are being slashed. A city where the rich get richer by stomping on those at the bottom. Gotham is a powder keg, and Arthur lights a fuse.

Also, ya know, it's about one of the most famous Batman villains of all time. It just seemed cheap to lead with that description.

II. Pretty Ugly

Director Todd Phillips clearly loves cinema from the seventies. He clearly loves the work of Martin Scorsese. He has imbued that kind of spirit into this film. Lawrence Sher's photography is gorgeous, dynamic, well-constructed and thrumming with life.

The score from Hildur Gudnadottir is dissonant, and haunting and beautiful. There are even a handful of well-placed, scene-enhancing needle drops in the soundtrack, as well.

At two hours and two minutes, I am not sure this movie can be any shorter but am impressed at the level of restraint shown by Phillips and company. It could have meandered and rutted around in its own filth, but Phillips keeps the moving rolling forward, propelled by Phoenix' steam engine performance, and layered with incredible art direction and lush costume design. It looks and feels right out of the dirty 70s.

This is the prettiest ugly I have seen in quite some time.

III. Something to Say

Gotham city is an absolute dump. The trash begins to pile up in mountainous heaps; buildings wear graffiti like a second skin; the grime on every surface is palpable. This is a metaphor for late-seventies-early-eighties malaise: crime is on the rise, social programs are being slashed, and life on the streets has become about survival. Phillips has said this movie isn't meant to be political. But that's a crock of shit.

This is especially salient when it comes to the film's portrayal of Thomas Wayne. While Wayne isn't an outright villain, he is the kind of smug rich white man that believes he can ascend to Gotham's political summit by making empty promises to the poor. Phillips doesn't beat you over the head with Thomas Wayne's immorality, but the character is emblematic of the struggle between Gotham's elite and the common people. Most Batman origin stories sanctify Thomas Wayne. I liked that Phillips dispenses with the Noble Millionaire bullshit and shows us what a man liked Thomas Wayne is more likely to have been.

Arthur Fleck, our man-who-would-be Joker, can also be found in 70s cinema figures: he is Travis Bickle; he is Rupert Pupkin; he is Sonny Wortzik. But he is also more than those men. He is a monster waiting to be born. His fuse is lit, and we all know the explosion is coming. Phillips and Phoenix do a wonderful job challenging the audience's ability to sympathize with such a man, but the end is always in sight.

This is a hero origin story subversion. This is the villain's journey. The villain clearly believes himself to be the hero, and the film lets that ugliness sit in your lap for the entire movie. Phillips pokes and prods at your ability to have empathy for Fleck, but there's always a menace in Phoenix's eyes.

Fleck is not a tragic hero. His is not a fall from grace. Fleck finds empowerment when he dons the face paint. He finds empowerment when he dances like a maniac. He finds empowerment when he embraces his hysterical laughter. He says, "I used to think my life was a tragedy, but now I know it's a comedy." This is the story of a man who rises to villainy. You can not like that. It can make you uncomfortable. It is chilling. But isn't that what people do? They embrace an identity, commit to choices, and stride confidently into a future. I understand why people would rather see movies about people that embrace their own nobility and heroism. But I appreciate a film that shows that people as often embrace their own sense of awfulness and villainy.

In a way, Phillips is being apolitical by not focusing on one single failure. In a way, he is being incredibly political by flinging shit on EVERYONE in equal measure.The system has failed Arthur: his counseling sessions are far too little to help him, and when they are cut with the city budget, it's another nail in the coffin of Arthur's sanity. The media fails Arthur: they revel in the chaos and make sure that Fleck has a welcome stage to strut across in the name of higher ratings. Thomas Wayne fails Arthur: he literally punches him in the face, belittles him, and mocks his mother. Society fails Arthur by canonizing his violence and turning him into a kind of anarchist hero of the masses. And, ultimately, Arthur fails Arthur by embracing the power that violence stirs in him. No one is clean in this movie.

An Aside: Now, an argument can be made that this film celebrates violence. In fact, if you've read the news, you've probably read an opinion piece about this already. And if you aren't paying attention, or decided not to watch this movie and judge it based on its trailer or someone else's hot take, that might be a legitimate interpretation. However, this film in no way celebrates violence. It is quite clear that violence is ugly. That it is chilling. That it is cyclical. That hurt people hurt people. But there is a difference between understanding Arthur's journey and rooting for it. I think the film presents the circumstances around which a person might, realistically, travel down this path. However, if you root for Arthur, you've missed the point entirely. We don't get to choose what inspires bad and toxic people. The discourse about shunning this movie because it MIGHT inspire violence is absurd. Stop blaming movies for the actions of adults. Movies don't make you go mad. Movies don't make you a terrible person.

IV. Myth-Making

Say one thing for this movie: I finally understood why people work for the Joker. He doesn't have a gang. He has followers. He's a cult leader with a flock of similarly imbalanced people, driven to the brink by a world burning down around them.

Arthur Fleck was in the right place at the right time to take advantage of a city on the cusp of explosion. And he lights the fuse. The way the film handles his rise and debut as The Joker, is a wonderful way to illustrate the danger of the mob mentality. People don't always flock to heroes. Sometime they flock to villains. Joker lets that play out with a terrible sense of dread.

The film also finds a novel way to also be the origin story of Batman, too. Phillips and Silver's script finds a way to bind the creation of these two pop culture heavies together in a believable, clever way. The story lays groundwork for why these two men would obsess over each other in the future. There's a dash of arch, and a dollop of melodrama.

V. Powerhouse Performance

Joaquin Phoenix is one of the best actors of his generation. This is one of the best performances of his career. This is one of the best incarnations of the character to ever grace the screen.

It's in the details: the way Arthur's shrill hysterical laughter literally catches in his throat and chokes him, until he embraces it later in the film; the way Arthur dances with a kind of infernal grace and elegant anger; it's the way he resembles a cornered animal when he finally gets his moment to shine on the Murray Franklin show.

And Phoenix walks a fine line. He does make you feel for Arthur: this is a man that has been failed by the system. But Phoenix also makes it clear that Fleck is a man that chooses to be a monster. He finds strength and inspiration there. Fleck is empowered by the adoring masses just as he empowers those adoring masses. And that is terrifying.

This might net Phoenix an Oscar. The hype is real.

Why You Should See It

- It is absolutely true to the spirit of the character; it is dark and awful and disturbing, which a Joker story SHOULD be.
- Joaquin Phoenix is electric.
- The movie looks gorgeous.
- This is what comic book movies can be if you stop treating the material with kid gloves; anyone who's actually read a real comic knows this.

Why You Shouldn't See It

- It IS violent; It IS dark; This is not a fun movie.

In Conclusion

Todd Phillips has crafted one of the best representations of how comic books movies can work. They can be dark, and psychologically frightening. They can challenge your notions of sympathy. They can make you think and haunt you all the way back to your car. It is an uncompromising character study presented like prestige cinema with all the bells and whistles. This is a movie that can satisfy film school devotees and comic book fandom in equal measure.

Miscellany

- Todd Phillips says that the film was specifically inspired by cinema of the 70s and early 80s. Among the films he mentioned are Taxi Driver (1976), Dog Day Afternoon (1975), King of Comedy (1982) and Network (1976). Phillips has said that he wanted the film to look like what a comic book film might look like if comic book films were being made in that era.
- The Joker's face paint in this film was inspired by the face paint worn by infamous serial killer John Wayne Gacy, when he performed for children as Pogo the Clown.
- Phoenix lost 52 pounds for the role.
- The movie was pitched on a $35 million budget (before marketing and all the bells and whistles), and largely stayed within that budget during filming.
- The movie received a standing ovation at the Venice Film Festival

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Venom (2018)

One of my favorite movies, a movie that always brings a smile to my face, is not what you think. It's not Deadpool , though I really liked those movies. It's not Avengers: Infinity War , although that movie is a towering feat of cinema. It isn't even Captain America: Winter Soldier , which is probably Marvel's best MOVIE, period. No, one of my absolute favorite Marvel films is Lexi Alexander's 2008 romp, Punisher: War Zone . It is balls-to-the-wall insanity. It is a cartoonish parody of American hyper violence. It is stylish, gorgeous to look at, and every actor is firmly onboard. It isn't a "good" movie, per se: but it is a helluva fun time. What does that movie have to do with this year's (surprise) hit, Venom ? Well, I really like bad movies. I like movies that are audaciously terrible. I have fun watching them. As soon as the reviews for Venom  started to roll in, I had high hopes that Venom  would rise to Punisher: War Zone...

HULKACINEMA!: Thunder in Paradise (1993)

His Look Really Doesn't Change Much I couldn't find this movie streaming on any service: not on Hulu, not on Amazon, and not on Netflix. I did, however, find it, for free, on Youtube. So I decided that I would watch and review this one, sooner than originally scheduled, in order to avoid paying for these movies as much as possible. This one, unlike Suburban Commando, was actually quite a bit of fun. And you can actually track Hogan's growth as an... actor? I mean, he's still very terrible. But he's getting more comfortable in front of the camera, and trying to establish his go-to action film persona. Summary: Randolph "Archie" "Hurricane" Spencer (aka Spence (and billed on IMDB as R.J. Spencer: where the fuck does the J come from? (Yeah, that's a multitude of possible nicknames))) and his partner, Martin "Bru" Brubaker (this movie never met a nickname it didn't like), are ex-Navy Seals who ride around the Florida coast...

American Myth: A Series on the American Western

American Myth America is a young country. Younger, in context, than most of the other storied nations of the world. And, because of that, our nation's mythology is a bit different than other parts of the world. We don't have knights and castles and magic witches. No, the American mythology was formed when our country set its eyes westward. The American mythology was born when men and women set off from their homes and forged a life in untamed wilderness. That wilderness brought out the best in people. And the worst. And it brought out our myths. We traded knights for cowpokes, magic swords for six shooters, and dragons for deadly outlaws. Our castles were ramshackle towns in the middle of the desert, standing defiantly in the face of the natural order. A Genre is Born When the American film industry started, movies based on famous Old West tales were easy: there were no rights to speak of, they were adventurous and entertaining, and they celebrated the American spir...