Joker (2019)

Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Robert De Niro, Zazie Beetz, and Brian Tyree Henry, with small roles from Marc Maron and Sam Morril
Grade: A+

“The whole city’s on fire because of what you did!”

“I know. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Summary

In the 1980s in Gotham City, the disturbed Arthur Fleck (Phoenix) is a professional clown. In the opening, he applies his clown makeup and tears up as he switches back and forth from a frown to a grin by forcing it with his fingers. Later, he’s in full costume holding a “Everything Must Go” sign outside of a corner store before some kids come by to make fun of him and take his sign, prompting a chase. He follows them down an alley but gets smashed in the face with the sign by a kid hiding to the side. Once he hits the ground, they all beat the shit out of him, rob him, and run away.

Sometime after, Arthur is at his appointment with his social services worker Debra (Sharon Washington). Arthur has a laughing disorder that causes him to laugh at inopportune moments and spends a bit of the meeting doing so before wondering if he’s the only person who thinks the world has gotten crazier. Debra seems to agree with him to a point before wanting to see the journal she wanted him to write in. He gives it to her, and he has been keeping up on it, but he’s also used it as a joke diary to write down funny thoughts or observations because he’s pursuing a career in stand-up comedy. He reminds Debra of this, but she doesn’t have a recollection of the conversation and flips through the pages, which are much darker than he made it sound. Eventually, the worker gets to a line and reads it aloud:

“I just hope my death makes more sense than my life”.

He laughs at this, but she’s a bit bothered by it all. Next, she asks Arthur what he thinks about coming to these appointments and having someone to talk to, but he thinks he liked it better when he was locked up in the hospital. She wants to know if he’s thought more about why he was locked up, but he doesn’t seem to care. He just changes the subject to ask if she can get the doctor to increase his medication, but she has to remind him that he’s already on seven different medications as it is. Surely, they must be doing something. Staring at her, Arthur is honest in stating that he just doesn’t want to feel so bad anymore. On the bus ride home, a little kid stares at the gloomy Arthur, so Arthur decides to make funny faces to entertain him. As the kid starts laughing, his mother turns around and yells at Arthur for bothering her son. Arthur starts laughing because of his condition, making the scene awkward. The mother tries to make it a bigger issue, so Arthur hands her a laminated card detailing his laughing condition and how it’s a “medical condition causing sudden, frequent and uncontrollable laughter that doesn’t match how you feel. It can happen in people with a brain injury or certain neurological conditions”. Afterwards, he goes to the pharmacy and heads home to his apartment with his helpless mother Penny (Frances Conroy). He check’s Penny’s mailbox before getting inside and it’s empty. The first thing Penny asks once Arthur gets in is if he checked the mail, which he confirms. She’s been sending letters to Thomas Wayne (Brett Cullen) but still hasn’t gotten a reply. Arthur prepares her dinner for her while reminding her Wayne is a very busy man, but Penny worked for them for years and thinks the least he can do is write back. Penny goes on about how Wayne can be a great mayor and how he can save the city according to the news, but Arthur isn’t impressed. Following the news, Arthur and Penny sit together to watch Live With Murray Franklin, Gotham’s big late night talk show with star Murray Franklin (De Niro).

As the monologue starts, Arthur imagines himself in the crowd for it. After he says aloud that he loves Murray, Murray has a spotlight shine on Arthur in the audience. The two discuss Arthur living with his mother, which gets a laugh from the crowd, but Murray defends him because he lived with his mother until he made it and even dealt with a father that walked out on him. Arthur talks about how he’s been the man of the house for as long as he could remember and talks about how loving their relationship is. The crowd cheers and Murray invites Arthur down. Murray sends it to commercial and tells Arthur that what he said made his day and he’d give up everything he had to have a kid like him. Arthur hugs him lovingly before waking up from his daydream and back to reality where he’s sitting and watching the show next to his mother in bed.

At work, co-worker Randall (Glenn Fleshler) shows up and asks Arthur if he’s okay because he heard about the beatdown. Arthur tries to downplay it and how he should have left it alone, but Randall argues that they’ll take everything from him if he lets it happen. Randall grabs a revolver from his locker and discreetly hands it to Arthur, so he can use it as protection. Arthur isn’t sure about it because they aren’t supposed to have guns, but Randall insists and says he can pay him back some other time. Little person and fellow co-worker Gary (Leigh Gill) walks over to tell Arthur that Hoyt (Josh Pais) wants to see him in his office. Randall makes a joke to Gary asking if he calls miniature golf just golf, and Arthur manically laughs before leaving the room. Once he turns the corner though, he immediately goes back to his deadened expression before walking into Hoyt’s office. Hoyt says he likes Arthur despite everyone else at work thinking he’s a freak, but he has received another complaint and it’s starting to piss him off. Mentioning the job that opened the movie, the owner complained that Arthur disappeared off the job and never returned his sign. Arthur tries to explain how he got jumped, but Hoyt doesn’t believe him because it doesn’t make sense that he got jumped for a sign. He demands Arthur give the owner the sign back. If he doesn’t, he’s taking it out of his paycheck. Frustrated, Arthur heads home. There still isn’t anything in Penny’s mailbox. Arthur goes into the elevator and holds the door for another tenant Sophie (Beetz) and her daughter Gigi. Sophie makes small talk with Arthur about how the building sucks and gestures a gun shooting her head with her hand as Gigi talks. Arthur smiles but doesn’t say anything. Once they get to their floor, they go in different directions down the hallway. Before she opens her door, Arthur gets Sophie’s attention and makes the same gun to the head gesture she did only a bit more exaggerated. She smiles before going inside. Later, Arthur bathes his mother and asks why it’s such a big deal for Wayne to respond to her letters. She worked for him thirty years ago after all. Penny explains that Wayne would help because he is a good man. If he saw how they were living, it would make him sick.

Arthur doesn’t want her worrying about money and brings up how everyone is saying his stand-up is ready for the big clubs, but Penny is confused by this because Arthur actually has to be funny to be a comedian. That night, Arthur plays around with his gun and imagines scenarios in his head before firing it in the apartment, making a hole in the wall. Penny asks if he’s okay from a different room, and he plays it off as him watching an old war movie. The next day, Arthur spends most of it stalking Sophie from her dropping Gigi off at school, to her making errands at the bank. He almost goes inside the bank too but decides against it. At night, Arthur stops at a comedy club and takes notes on a comedian (Gary Gulman) performing there while he laughs at all the wrong parts of the jokes. Later on, he’s up late at his apartment and writes down some “jokes” with the last one he writes stating, “The worst part about having a mental illness is people expect you to behave as if you don’t”.

Sophie shows up at his doorstep and flat-out asks him if he was following her, which he confirms. She makes a joke that she’d wish he’d come in and rob the place, so he responds in kind by saying he has a gun and can come by tomorrow. She chuckles and calls him funny, so he invites her to one of his stand-up shows and she agrees to come sometime when he lets her know when it is. The next day, Arthur is at another clown gig at a children’s hospital. As he entertains the sickly children with a song-and-dance routine, his gun accidentally falls out of his pants. He scrambles and picks it up, and everyone is in shock. After the gig, Arthur talks to Hoyt on the payphone and is fired for the incident. Arthur tries to claim the gun is a prop and is part of his act, but Hoyt calls bullshit. He also says that Randall said Arthur tried to buy a .38 off him last week. Though this isn’t true at all, Hoyt doesn’t want to hear it anymore and hangs up. Arthur stands there and headbutts the phone booth and the glass almost breaks completely. On the subway, three drunk assholes mess with some woman and Arthur sees it. Once he starts laughing uncontrollably, they come over to him and start messing with him instead after the woman leaves to the next train. Eventually, they start grabbing him and beating him until Arthur pulls out his gun and shoots two of them on the spot. The other guy starts running to another train. They get to the stop, and Arthur follows the guy out and kills him too. He runs for miles until he finds a public bathroom and closes the door behind him. With this, he calms down and starts to perform a ballet dance of sorts, finding comfort in the release of what has transpired. Upon getting back to the apartment, he heads straight down the hallway to Sophie’s place. She opens the door, they start making out, and she closes the door behind him.

At work the following day, the murders are in the news and Arthur’s co-workers all talk about it as he cleans his locker out. They talk about how they heard the killer was in full clown makeup, but another says the guy was wearing a mask. Gary tries to console Arthur for his firing and Randall adds on about how it isn’t fair, though Arthur doesn’t respond. The others start making jokes about Arthur having a gun and ask what he was thinking, but he outs Randall for being the one who gave it to him. Randall tries to get all defensive, but Arthur responds by pressing his clown horn on the way out. Before exiting, he jokingly says he forgot to punch out and punches the timebox over and over until it falls off the wall. Going down the stairs, he uses a marker to cross out the “Forget to” part of the sign, so it reads as “Don’t Smile!”. At the apartment, Penny watches news coverage on the triple murder at the subway while Arthur takes his medication. Once Wayne appears on the program, Penny calls Arthur over to watch. Wayne talks about how all three men worked for Wayne Investments. He didn’t know any of them personally but refers to them as educated and good people. The newscaster talks about how there has been an anti-rich sentiment in the city and a lot of the less fortunate have taken the side of the killer. Wayne calls it a shame and says this is why he’s considering running for mayor because Gotham has lost its way. The two discuss the killer wearing a clown mask and Wayne refers to him as a coward because he hid behind a mask. He goes on about how the killer is envious of those more fortunate than themselves and how “those of us who have made something of our lives will always look at those who haven’t as nothing but clowns”.

Arthur laughs hearing this, but Penny assures him this wasn’t funny.

Arthur goes to Debra for another appointment. In the middle of his thoughts about the song “My Name is Carnival”, about a guy referring to himself as “Carnival” and how that’s Arthur’s clown name, she cuts him off because she has bad news. Immediately, Arthur turns to her and calls her out for not actually caring or listening, how she doesn’t actually hear him, and how she asks the same questions every week like how his job is going or if he has negative thoughts. All he has are negative thoughts, but she doesn’t listen anyway. For his entire life, he didn’t know if he really existed, but he does and people are starting to notice. Disregarding these statements entirely, Debra explains the city cut their funding and they’re closing down their offices next week. They’ve cut funding across the board, and Social Services is a part of that. As a result, this is the last time they will be meeting. She is honest with him, admitting that they don’t give a shit about people like him or her. Pivoting, Arthur asks who he should talk to in order to continue getting his medication, but she just apologizes to him because he’s pretty much screwed.

With his world crumbling and his mental state deteriorating, the descent into becoming “Joker” has officially begun. Gotham just doesn’t know it yet.

My Thoughts:

Turning the comic book world on its head, Todd Phillips’s Joker follows no parameters in its origin story of the world-famous villain, preferring instead to use an entirely blank canvas and a knowledge and understanding of cinema history to do it. Picking bits and pieces from the varied origin stories of the Joker character while infusing his own ideas along with the help of screenwriter Scott Silver, the grim character study of the titular star bypasses the comic book film label and takes a deep dive into the genre of psychological thriller, as we see how a true and realistic menace to society can be made. Powered by an Academy Award-winning performance by a disturbing Joaquin Phoenix at his best and a brooding and well-deserved Oscar-winning score by Hildur Guðnadóttir, Joker stands above and beyond its counterparts through a daring, raw, and cerebral narrative that refuses to conform to the standard set by previous superhero and supervillain movies.

Known as a bit of a “joker” himself, Todd Phillips proves himself as a filmmaker capable of handling much more than just comedies (The Hangover franchise, Road Trip, Old School, Starsky & Hutch, etc.). For the record, I’m a huge fan of his work in writing and directing comedy, but it needs to be said how much of a stark contrast something like Joker is for a director like Phillips and how he shattered expectations from critics who may have balked at his hiring, knowing how serious the content of this film was to be and how dark he ended up making it. The way Phillips is able to capture the subtleties of Phoenix’s performance while utilizing every ounce of the mise-en-scène to convey thoughts and feelings of isolation in public, being trapped, the disrespect and confusion of others who take up the same place as the known outcast, deterioration in society and its people, vitriol, coldness, hatred, and ultimately, citizenry at its breaking point shows off the filmmaker’s true talents as an auteur. He captures it all to the point where the audience is uncomfortable with how satisfied they become in Arthur Fleck’s actions once he finds his release and genuine happiness in the chaos he helped create. We are aware that this is the origin of a supervillain, but this grounded take on how this struggling stand-up comic with a cocktail of mental illnesses turns into someone who is considered a public enemy and murderous individual brings out a side in ourselves that we may not know existed. As the viewer, we can sympathize with any main character because we are always searching for it in every movie, no matter the occasion. Even in movies centered on villains or antiheroes, there is always good enough reasoning as to why someone became who they are. Phillips’s Joker is a perfect example of this. Though we know that Arthur is laying the groundwork for becoming one of the greatest threats humanity has ever seen, the buildup is handled in such a way that your heart breaks for the man on the way there. He works hard at supporting his mother, he’s been the man of the house for as long as he can remember, he lives in a decrepit apartment, is unhealthy physically and mentally, is looked at as a freak by everyone, and isn’t good at the job he dreams of.

All he wants is something positive in his life or maybe connection of any kind, but every single turn he takes seems to put him in a losing situation. As he says to Debra, all he has are bad thoughts, but no one is listening, and no one is helping. How can someone win in a situation like this, especially with someone who’s experienced so much trauma and is broken to begin with? Arthur already takes so much medication to save him from himself, but he asks for MORE in the first scene with Debra because he just doesn’t want to feel bad all the time. Arthur is in a downward spiral, and no one gives a fuck or looks over to help him even though they know he isn’t well. The government doesn’t care either, despite acting like they do, as the most pivotal plot development of the movie happens when the government makes cuts. Part of these cuts are the mental health services that he goes to see every week to talk and to get his medication that he needs to not fall into the abyss that is his horrible life. Unfortunately, that’s life, which is why Frank Sinatra’s famous song is repeated a couple of times throughout the movie, as its words speak to a new generation of moviegoers who are dealing with similar pains but have no answers on how to fix them. What do you do, especially when you don’t have the money? No one has an answer, and the people that have the power to fix it talk a big game but look the other way and act like those people don’t exist. That IS life, and that is why Joker was such a massive success. It’s one of those movies that finally bring to light what many are dealing with on an everyday basis. Just because the famous Batman villain is the star of it doesn’t mean it’s glorifying violence or anything. The killings are definitely treated as a release for the character, but so is any regular vigilante thriller. Nevertheless, passing it off as this movie that glorifies killing the rich, revenge, and whatever else really undersells the importance of so many other elements of the story.

It all makes sense as to how Arthur got there. He’s tried everything to not explode, but everyone does at some point because holding those feelings in for a long period of time could lead to catastrophic results just as well.

Whether it’s by accident or a misunderstanding, or people just not believing him like Hoyt accusing him of stealing the sign when he got legitimately beaten up (“Why would I keep his sign?”), Arthur can’t seem to win. Then, he has to go home to his sickly mother Penny and has no outlet to talk to others. All he has is his comedy, but he doesn’t even have support from Penny, who actually tells him he isn’t funny. It’s a constant uphill battle and for someone who is already seeing a social services worker and is taking seven different medications for various ailments, a breaking point is not a matter of “if”, it’s a matter of “when” (“I haven’t been happy one minute of my entire fucking life”). This is why the iconic sequence when Arthur becomes the Joker officially and dances on the steps is such a massive moment. It’s not just the music and the crazy dance. It’s about that lost person who found who he really is. People were already resonating with the symbol of the “clown mask” after the subway murders and he started to see the public latch onto it. Following the brutal murder of Randall in front of Gary, Arthur has this release and finally feels free by ironically putting on the Joker makeup to become his true self. In the midst of murder, splatters of blood, and a man who is knowingly responsible for it all, the viewer finds themselves almost happy for the protagonist. After resonating with his self-doubt, his feelings of isolation from the rest of society, and constant sadness, you get to the point where you’re rooting for the Joker for finding himself amidst the chaos and misery. It’s the type of film where you talk with your friends and let them know outwardly that Arthur shouldn’t be commended for the abhorrent crimes he committed, but deep down you feel oddly satisfied with his vengeance on society, the rich looking down on Arthur and him refusing to take it anymore, and the public mocking him every chance they get, so he responded. It might be scary to admit it, but a lot of people can relate.

By the time he feels the blood pour down his mouth and he stands on that car amidst the riots, making the “Joker smile” with his fingers, the goosebumps rise. It’s a movie moment that will be remembered for years to come, and the viewer realizes they had the privilege of watching something special.

Juggling all of these themes while making an entirely original story from known IP is difficult task, which is why Todd Phillips can’t be commended enough for what he put together here. Some knock the style of the film for being too similar to Taxi Driver, but I don’t see why replicating the heart of Martin Scorsese’s classic is a reasonable criticism. Considering the subject matter, the main character at hand, what the goal was for the narrative, and Gotham and The Bronx being one and the same, it would be idiotic for Phillips not to look to Taxi Driver for inspiration. It’s not like he’s shied away from how they are alike either, as he’s gone at length talking about the movie’s influence on Joker. However, it’s not a straight and away copy. It’s just a character study dealing with a protagonist who is dealing with similar issues within himself and the environment they live in. Even so, Arthur Fleck and Travis Bickle are very different people and how things are handled as time progresses onscreen are nowhere near the same. Saying otherwise is a complete lie, so for all those people on social media that try to act like Joker is unoriginal or derivative, just say you don’t personally like Phillips and move on. Any great filmmaker borrows from other great filmmakers. It’s a practice that is literally taught in film schools and screenwriting classes. It’s true that elements of The King of Comedy, The Man Who Laughs, Fight Club, and the aforementioned Taxi Driver can all be found in the Academy Award-winning movie, but Phillips did his research on such films to make Joker this amalgamation of twisted humor, mental illness, suppressed violence being brought to the surface through circumstantial happenings, and tiptoeing the line into madness into one of the best live-action DC films ever made. Granted, there isn’t a tremendous amount of competition within that category, but it’s a great movie, nonetheless.

Joaquin Phoenix is magnificent. Heath Ledger is still the undisputed king, but Phoenix’s take on Joker is a confident second. He was truly a sight to behold, making the simple line delivery of “I had a bad day” an unforgettable moment. Just a glance from the committed Phoenix as he smokes his cigarette and tries his hardest not to snap is enough to completely draw you into the misery of Arthur Fleck. Even when he’s watching television, the viewer can’t help but wonder what is going on in his head. Look at his expression change when Murray Franklin makes fun of Arthur’s open mic performance on his show and all we hear is that heartbeat as he death stares the TV after initially smiling. You can sense the blood boiling through the screen, and it’s incredible. This is when you know you’ve put together an award-worthy performance. Part of its success is because of the premise. Taking Batman almost entirely out of the equation allows for Arthur Fleck’s journey to control the movie and the “unreliable narrator” aspect allows for us to see things completely through the deranged eyes of someone who has been abandoned by society and is practically begging for one positive thing to come about in his life before he falls apart and lashes out. A major criticism of the film has been its perceived connection to the personalities of incels, or mentally ill people who veer into “mass shooter” territory because they may be inspired by the content of the film and Phoenix’s performance, but this is very unfair. First of all, people can’t be living in fear of how certain deranged citizens may interpret art. If a viewer can’t tell the difference between the actions of a character in a movie and how they should go about their day, they need to seek help. Don’t ask for the Hayes Code to come back as you pray for a prologue and epilogue caption to remind audiences that what the main character did was wrong like in The Public Enemy. We’re past that. At some point, you have to figure it out, watch it when your brain is fully developed, or don’t watch it all if you can’t take on mature subject matter. The blame should be solely on the people who may have issues, not the artists who create what they want to create. If anything, it’s just another reason for the government to invest more in providing mental health services for the masses, which only reiterates a crucial point of Joker further.

If you cannot discern the moment that Arthur becomes the monster (“Last time, I ended up taking it out on some people. I thought it was gonna bother me, but it really hasn’t”), it’s your own fault.

Second of all, the filmmaker and his team are aware that what they are making could speak to a demographic, but they can’t control who falls in love with a movie to the point where they make it their entire personality. It is what it is. If studios looked at screenplays and decided to make movies only if they are non-controversial fluff and don’t veer into realism or dark takes on serious subjects, then you’re censoring the artist to a dangerous extent. If real contentious topics can’t be discussed, this is a scary precedent to set. Some of the greatest films and books to ever exist are predicated on the fact that they are touching on themes that need to be talked about but aren’t because they’re considered problematic or a little too real for mainstream audiences to handle. Thirdly, passing this portrayal of Arthur Fleck off as this incel that shouldn’t be depicted is EXACTLY the point Phillips is making in Joker. Once again, people resonate with the protagonist no matter what he does because they see themselves in the same disenfranchised position he is in. Trying to silence him and this film is the same as Arthur looking for help but being metaphorically thrown to the side from the people in power who could help but refuse to acknowledge his existence. They created this monster, and now he’s responding. When he tried to chase his dreams on the stand-up stage, Murray Franklin played his failure for millions to see and ridiculing him saying, “Check out this Joker”. Then, when Arthur brought it up to Murray’s face on live television, Murray shied away from the truth and changed the subject, knowing that this was the EXACT reason he brought Arthur on. Again, they all played a part in creating him. When combined with Arthur’s already preexisting conditions, Joker was born. The movie is a cautionary tale and a fair one at that. When Arthur tells Debra that people are starting to notice him like when he smiles seeing a man in a taxi donning the clown mask, it means a lot of things.

Naturally, they are noticing Joker for murdering three Wall Street-type individuals, but the response is what is making a difference in everyone’s life. Just like in real life, if Arthur sat on his hands and wallowed in self-pity, nothing would have changed. It wasn’t until he performed the violent acts that lived inside him to get this internal monster to the surface, and bringing out his real self, was he able to be somebody. With this, less talked about topics came to the forefront, protesters started to resonate with him, and the rest of Gotham FINALLY acknowledged Arthur and his power and are now plotting against him. For those who have experienced traumatic events that have shaped their life going forward, Joker is a relatable and emotional movie. Why can’t this group of humans have a movie that speaks to them? Is that not allowed? For those who deal with inexplicable melancholic feelings every day and can’t find a remedy to overcome it, Joker is almost an emotional awakening to see depicted onscreen because you can see someone going through the same problems and doing something about it. Obviously, that is not a call to hurt others, but the message of finding your authentic self is a good one, as some people don’t realize how achieving a goal like this can change their lives for the better. Additionally, there are also those who feel like they’re trying their best but aren’t being rewarded for their efforts.

Isn’t this basically everybody?

All we want is to be given a little credit for doing something because it goes a long way, but a lot of the time, it never comes, and many are underappreciated and underutilized as a result. Just like how Arthur tells Thomas Wayne in the pivotal bathroom scene at the showing of Modern Times (starring the world’s most recognizable clown in Charlie Chaplin no less) that he just wants a little decency and he’s not sure why everyone is so rude, there’s not a single viewer watching that can’t resonate with this sentiment. Every day, people are metaphorically beaten and torn down by the very society they are trying to help. In some cases, it can also be literal. Joker is for the marginalized people who feel that they don’t have a voice or say about what is happening currently or what’s going to happen in the future because they aren’t members of high society or aren’t a part of the “system”. They feel stuck in an environment ruled by the rich and powerful, and the people are starting to become unruly just like the citizens of Gotham that start falling for Joker because they know their word doesn’t hold the same weight as someone with money. Do those in power really put themselves in the less fortunate’s shoes to understand, or do they just act like it for show? Let’s be real, it’s the latter. As a result, Joker becomes this darkly inspiring tale, veering on the edge of enlightenment as the poverty-stricken citizens, the mentally ill, or the wronged find solace in this engrossing journey Arthur takes us on one awkward laugh at a time. It’s not meant to provoke violence or incite uprisings of some sort. This is why I didn’t find the narrative shocking. If anything, it was strangely realistic, despite the lies some critics may try and spew to dissuade people from seeing the movie. After Arthur kills the three wealthy punks in the subway, a good portion of the public sides with the unknown killer that becomes Joker because it was seen as someone attacking the rich as a form of protest, a completely plausible story development only evidenced through countless real-life events unrelated to the movie. The well-off will always be looked at as the villain. It’s been that way since the beginning of time. Blaming Joker for Arthur becoming an antihero in his mind and his supporters’ minds should not be an indictment on the film but rather an authentic reflection of the modern public.

Even as the viewer, the expertly detailed film forces the audience to admit to themselves that they can’t help but sympathize with a murderer. Be honest, how fulfilled were you in Arthur’s aggressive bashing of Randall’s head into a wall? Though part of it is an indictment on society and who we have become as a people which allowed the story arc to go as far as it did, the other part of it is that it’s just a reasonable, albeit shocking reaction to an excellent screenplay and a wonderfully crafted film that dares its audience to dig deep and find the vitriol from underneath that may need a release in the form of entertainment. It’s risky as hell, but it paid off in spades.

As dark as the movie is, there is still a lot of humor and dark comedy sprinkled throughout. It’s placed in all the right moments to give a slight relief just when the story needs it like Gary not being able to reach the door handle after Randall’s murder, the badass walk-off moment that turns into pure hilarity when Arthur flicks away his cigarette and refuses to answer the cop’s question about if his laugh disorder is real before walking straight into the exit door, or the hysterical cutaway of Arthur dropping his gun in the children’s hospital and trying to play it off with the “Shush!” gesture. Sam Morril got a great bit in there during his stand-up cameo too, and the small scene where Arthur pulls everything out of his fridge, so he can sit inside and close off the world, was also brilliantly funny.

The twists involving Penny’s mother are strikingly well done and unexpected, intensifying Arthur’s descent into madness while further making sense of it all. Also, an adult Arthur showing up to Wayne’s mansion to see a young Bruce Wayne was an insanely underrated moment in time. In this scene, it feels like an alternate universe that almost gets you excited at the small possibility of this Joker meeting Batman in the future of this timeline Todd Phillips has created, especially with Batman trying to navigate through a Gotham who loves Arthur Fleck as Joker as much as they do here. Sadly, Joker: Folie à Deux pretty much killed that chance with some crucial story decisions that completely undo the subtleties and many interpretations we had following Joker that effectively ruin how we see this timeline. Maybe this should have stayed as a standalone feature.

The riveting third act’s chaos in the streets, which is still one of the best cinematic depictions of civil unrest and rioting out there, meeting a fever pitch because of Joker’s actions and it coinciding with his disastrous appearance on Murray Franklin is an act to remember. Talk about the right guy at the right time! When we talk about the importance of seeing things on the big screen rather than on your television or laptop, the entire third act of Joker is a great example as to why. It’s transcendent. Honestly though, I would’ve left out the epilogue.

For the record, when Murray asks if Joker’s defense is that he’s crazy, and he responds with, “No, they couldn’t carry a tune to save their lives”, I thought that was a decent joke, all things considered.

As the tearing up but smiling Arthur tells the audience “My life is nothing but a comedy”, we look within ourselves to think about the people we have wronged. Negativity is spewed over the years to many, and it can take their toll. Even the smallest of actions can stay with someone who is unwell, and the story of Arthur Fleck is a reminder of this lifetime of consequences, with the excellent shot of all those news televisions detailing the fallout of Joker’s actions being a chef’s kiss. The accumulation of negative things and life tearing one down is already enough to do us in, but Joker reminds the public that we have a long way to go before we are at peace. It’s like during Joker’s rant on Murray Franklin when he wonders why everyone is upset about the subway murders before suggesting, “If it was me dying on the sidewalk, you’d walk right over me! I pass you every day and you don’t notice me”. You may shake your head, but the reality of the statement cannot be ignored. We need to do better. Considering this is my ultimate takeaway from the film, calling it misunderstood is an understatement.

With a low budget and a clear vision on how to tell an origin story of one of the greatest villains the media has ever seen, Todd Phillips’s throwback Joker is something that wouldn’t be out of place in the 1970s, an era loaded with iconic, game-changing films. Filled with mesmerizing imagery and an attention to detail to fully encompass the psyche of the titular star, Joaquin Phoenix’s tour-de-force helps differentiate itself from any comic book movie that has come before it, and it’s one of the very best. It’s an example of all facets of a production firing on all cylinders from editing to writing to the cinematography to the magnificent, minimalist score. Joker as a whole is outwardly the story of a Batman villain but internally a deep and startling display of mental illness, neglect, trauma, violence, and societal decay.

Fun Fact: Warner Bros. pushed for director Todd Phillips to cast Leonardo DiCaprio, but Phillips only considered Joaquin Phoenix for the role, writing the film with him in mind. Alec Baldwin was supposed to play Thomas Wayne, but they got his impersonator in Brett Cullen to play him instead. Frances McDormand also declined to play Arthur Fleck’s creepy mother, which was the real missed opportunity here.