Rating: R
Runtime: 2 hours, 1 minutes
Director: Todd Phillips
Quick Impressions:
Joker won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival, so we had to see it even though we kept hearing rumors of a credible threat of an attack on a theater somewhere in Texas (where we live). But, I mean, Texas is a big state, and the shooting was supposed to happen on Friday night, so we went on Thursday. My husband and I were relieved not to be shot, though. Each of us independently came up with a plan in case the shooting did occur. Both plans involved hiding behind the seats in the top row (where we always sit). I mean, it’s a big auditorium. I figured the shooter might get tired climbing all those stairs. My husband’s plan involved sneaking onto the elevator.
“What if there’s a second shooter waiting at the elevator doors?” I wondered.
“If that elevator door opens in the middle of the movie,” my husband decided, “I’m just going to bum-rush the guy.”
We then mutually agreed that “the guy” would probably some woman carrying a bunch of popcorn, and then we’d be banned from the theater.
All joking aside, we thought that particular theater would be pretty safe because they barely let you carry in anything bigger than a coin purse, and there’s always a police presence. Plus, I would not be surprised if some of this talk about dark web chatter is just an annoying way of drumming up publicity for the movie (or perhaps a way of distracting the public from more pressing issues). But then as we walked into our screening, the entire staff of ushers had gathered to be quizzed by a manager about how to proceed with evacuation if a threat became tangible. So that was a bit unnerving. But in the very same area, they were giving out free Joker posters. (The strange pairing made me think fondly of Treehouse of Horror. “The frogurt is also cursed.” I actually did notice one guy who came in after us carrying his poster in a strange way, and wondered if he was using it to conceal a handgun.)
Nobody was killed during our screening of the film, though I was a bit disturbed by my tendency to profile every other patron who moved. (To be fair, anyone could shoot up a theater, but it’s easier to relax if the person leaving his seat is not a twitchy-looking, young, white male there alone.)
The Good:
Within five minutes (maybe even five seconds), I found myself thinking, “I may have an indefensible antipathy for Joaquin Phoenix, but it’s impossible not to notice that he’s a better actor” than some people who have attempted to play the Joker recently. (I actually really like Jared Leto, but I’m not sure what went wrong there.) Phoenix knows how to play a creepy weirdo. He excels in that type of role. The movie isn’t even on ten minutes before we’ve felt the pathetic charm, the pitiable confusion, and the genuine menace all mixed up in Arthur Fleck. For obvious reasons, Phoenix’s mannerisms sometimes reminded me of other famous Jokers, but the iconic performance I thought of most when watching the film was Anthony Perkins in Psycho. Norman Bates has a boyish charm, whereas Arthur Fleck has childlike helplessness, but the undercurrent of real menace is the same. That’s what makes a character like this so disturbing. Arthur does not deserve the cruel treatment he receives from the world in general, but still, he is dangerous.
Phoenix is definitely Oscar-worthy here. Of course, he usually is. I don’t know why I think I dislike him so much. Honestly, I usually admire his work. I’ve heard about so many excellent performances this year that I’ve not yet seen. Pitted against the stars of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, Phoenix is probably better, or at least just as good. His role is demanding and difficult in a different way than DiCaprio’s.
I blew my daughter’s mind recently when I pointed out the guy in the Joker trailer is the same actor as the little kid who’s best friends with the robot in Space Camp. Honestly, though, as I watched the actual movie, the comparison stopped seeming so mind-boggling. The adult Phoenix sounds more like his child-self here than in any other film I’ve seen him in. The sweet earnestness of that young voice coupled with the disturbing grimaces of the gaunt adult face creates one thoroughly unsettling performance.
Frances Conroy is also fantastic, mainly because she just seems so perfect for the part. I enjoyed Robert DeNiro, too, although his supporting role is relatively small. (I like the way Phoenix mimics DeNiro’s body language and dancing, while DeNiro himself seems to be mimicking Jack Nicholson’s Joker.) (I need to rewatch the 60s Batman to study Cesar Romero’s movements now. Perhaps Nicholson was mimicking him, but that’s not the way I remember his movements.) Zazie Beetz ends up with kind of an unusual part, but I like her in the role. I also really enjoyed Shea Whigham and Bill Camp as the police detectives. They seemed so honest for Gotham City PD and so perplexed by the weird twists and turns they discovered in their case.
Best Scene Visually:
I’m definitely on this movie’s side when I hear it accused of inciting violence and glorifying evil. Those kinds of complaints are a pet peeve of mine. I feel that the people who lodge them must not have read any great books lately. Such complaints betray a fundamental lack of understanding of what fiction is and how it works. I guess I’m really quite a snob about this, truth be told. I mean, if you don’t appreciate art, then that’s your right, and I won’t tell you I think less of you for it. But I mean, candidly, I think there’s something broken inside people who believe all literature should be The New England Primer.
That said, I did find myself wincing at the way this movie unfolds. People are going to find it so easy to point to Joker and say, “Yep! That’s who does all the mass murdering in this country all right, the tragically under-institutionalized mentally ill.”
I’m positive some people will watch this and say, “Yep, tormented, unbalanced people like Arthur become society’s mass murderers.” But, no, no. The truth is tormented, unbalanced people like Arthur become writers and actors. They become artists. They have feelings and observations like Arthur’s, and they funnel them into creative projects like this to make a statement. (And it works. When we left the theater, practically everybody was standing around in small groups in the parking lot discussing the film.)
In real life, someone as mentally ill as Arthur is far less likely to commit these acts than to have delusions of committing them.
Before seeing the movie, I had seen a lot of nonsense on the internet about Joker being a film for incels, glorifying the grotesque, violent fantasies of fans who are involuntarily celibate and angry at the world because they believe they’re owed sex. I know that such people do exist and that most of the garbage they spew is vile, and some have turned violent. But that’s a mischaracterization of what’s going on in this movie. Arthur is angry because he actually has been abused a great deal. And after years of seeking justice, he finally realizes that the system is broken. And he accepts the fact that he is broken, too. Instead of working so hard to please a world that doesn’t care about him, he simply starts doing whatever he feels like all the time. Once he realizes just how rotten and corrupt the world around him truly is, he can stop lamenting that he is broken and start celebrating his brokenness.
Self-proclaimed incels may indeed love this movie, but that doesn’t mean it’s just for them. They haven’t cornered the market on thinking society is corrupt and broken. The real danger is probably to corrupt politicians. Seeing this movie may spark things like discussions, thinking, realizations, civic involvement, voting. Or it may make some people say, “I think DC has finally turned a corner and found something to say, and Marvel is getting too formulaic.” Both of these things seem far more likely than the movie prompting all who see it to transform into murderous clowns. And it certainly does not give anyone the excuse or the idea to treat women with contempt. That is not what this film is about at all.
I do think Joker somewhat irresponsibly makes mental illness appear to be a liberating and enviable state and suggests that people too poor to afford proper healthcare often go on murderous rampages. Admittedly, though, a film focused entirely on the origin story of the Joker would have a hard time avoiding this.