The discourse surrounding Joker has been so overwhelming and extensive (at least, in the online world), that I feel like even bothering to write anything about it would seem futile in the grand scheme of things, and the movie only just came out. Though, I’d be lying if I said the buildup since its premiere and eventual Golden Lion win at the Venice International Film Festival a couple months back wasn’t at least attracting my curiosity. While I’ve had my doubts about this project basically from the beginning, it is refreshing to see a comic book movie that doesn’t look and feel like just another comic book movie, and the audacity to make it a stand alone piece that explores only whatever the filmmakers are interested in is something I hope gets encouraged in the future.
The film, if you somehow didn’t already know, follows Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix), a clown-for-hire who struggles with mental illness, and lives with his ailing mother, Penny (Frances Conroy). After getting jumped by some kids, a co-worker gives Arthur a gun that he ends up using to kill three yuppies who worked for Wayne Enterprises as they harassed him on the subway. This act unwittingly inspires the people of Gotham City – who are already on edge due to an ongoing garbage worker strike – to take to the streets against the elite. Meanwhile, Arthur’s life – and his mental state – crumbles apart leading him down a path of transforming into the Clown Prince of Crime we all know, or so we thought.
The film takes many liberties with the source material, which is fine with me as the experimentation is a part of the appeal. And like I said, I hope this is something that is encouraged more in the future. Maybe we’ll eventually get one of these that’s actually really good. As far as Joker goes, it doesn’t work, and it’s not nearly as interesting or provocative as it seems to think it is. Director, Todd Phillips, who also co-wrote the film with Scott Silver, are clearly drawing from a certain style of film, the dark character studies of the 1970s, with moments that feel ripped right out of films like Death Wish, and the works of Paul Schrader and Martin Scorsese. Even the basic plot, as many observed, is a mashup between Taxi Driver and The King Of Comedy (complete with Robert De Niro playing a late night talk show host that Arthur admires). If you’re going to steal, steal from the best. Phillips’ last film, War Dogs, was also heavily inspired by Scorsese. However, Joker takes all these recognizable elements, and fails to put them together in a way that is meaningful on its own terms. It relies so heavily on your awareness of its influences, and using those thematic connections to put two-and-two together in order to gather some semblance of depth that is otherwise not present in the story being told.
The film has ample opportunity to explore something and dive deeper into the disturbed mind of Arthur Fleck, but stubbornly refuses to do so. We don’t get to know Arthur beyond superficial details, practically fetishizing the moments where his mental state continues to decline, yet never getting a thorough understanding of why he does what he does. A reveal about his childhood is compelling on paper, but is only ever relevant and felt for that one scene and never again. There’s also a strange dissonance with how little Arthur connects with the uprising happening in Gotham. There is an attempt to explore the delicacy of essential social structures, the haves and the have-nots, and the power of violence, but once again, it comes across as superficial, and it’s largely due to Arthur’s passive relation to those themes. Arthur isn’t connected to the riots, nor does he even actively encourage them, to the point where he literally says he “isn’t political.” Now, had the film been about a madman taking advantage of class tensions for his own gain and amusement, that would be interesting and relevant, but the film mostly avoids any connection between the character and the goings-on in the city.
At least, it’s well made. Phillips’ regular cinematographer, Lawrence Sher, captures the grime of an 80s New York inspired Gotham that still manages to be somewhat colorful and lively. It would’ve looked better had it been shot on film, but it still looks good. The production design makes the city feels truly lived in. The score by Hildur Guðnadóttir is appropriately moody and foreboding. But the biggest positive is that Joaquin Phoenix is excellent. He is putting everything into the role, from his physical transformation to his awkward and sinister demeanor. His take on the character feels so fully realized that it nearly does a good enough job of filling in some of the nuances that probably weren’t present in the script. He’s always had a knack for playing deranged characters, and while I wouldn’t necessarily put this in the top five, it is still a great showcase for his abilities as a performer.
If only Joaquin Phoenix’s contributions were made towards a better film. Joker is a collection of references and nods to much better movies that fails to say anything remotely interesting. That a film this basic, boring, and banal was ever considered “dangerous” is frankly laughable. Sure, I guess I could begrudgingly admire Joker for being as bleak and anti-establishment as it is given the fact that it is adapted from a popular DC Comics character, but it’s bleak and anti-establishment in all the safest and forgettable ways, and there’s plenty of comic book movies that have been either more violent or more thought provoking than this, and all while being far more embracing of its comic book roots. Todd Phillips is so committed to prove himself a serious filmmaker, taking all the fun out of an iconic character, stripping away anything that would remind you of the fact that it’s about a comic book character (except for one unintentionally funny moment near the end that I was convinced up until that point was the one thing Phillips resisted showing), that all I could think to myself when it was finally over was – why so serious?