Joker: Hysteria, Hypocrisy, and Psychoanalysis Gone Rogue
With 'Folie A Deux' releasing this coming week, here's a revisit of my initial post about 2019's 'Joker' - which was as much a review of the film as it was a reflection of a crazy time.
The most controversial film of the year (surprisingly, and pointlessly so) was also one of my favourites. The build up to its release was difficult to ignore. First the announcement that they were making the movie at all, so relatively soon after the Nolan trilogy. Then the rumours that Joaquin Phoenix had been cast to the iconic role, which were later confirmed. Internet bloggers went wild when the first photos from the set were ‘leaked’ - such marketing tidbits rarely make their way into the public sphere by accident - and a poster was revealed. We were told this was a stand-alone back story to the character. Some suggestions were made (I have no idea where they came from) that this story would be separate from the Batman universe. Some were baffled that the project was being helmed by the director of the ‘Hangover’ movies. The cherry on top was the intrigue and excitement that Martin Scorsese was a producer (to only later drop out), and de Niro was cast, adding further prestige to the project. Plus, Jared Leto’s most recent interpretation of the character in 2016’s ‘Suicide Squad’ was so painful and embarrassing to watch, especially after Heath Ledger’s unexpected, unanimously applauded performance, that anyone who had seen it was ready for whatever might come next.
But no one anticipated the controversies about to hit
The movie was garnering a lot of attention, a lot of love, a love of hate, a lot of political reading; everyone was suddenly a certified psychoanalyst, discussing the portrayal of mental health. Even gender came into it. So, because I was one of those whose reaction to everyone else’s reactions was “Wait, you’re reading WHAT into this movie?!”, for this review, I’m thinking let’s get the controversies out of the way first.
The violence
Yes, some of it is gruesome. But it’s not as violent as you think it is, even if you’re certain it’s over-the-top. I believe you believe it’s too violent (whatever “too” means) but I know you know better. I’m sure you’re casually watching other movies and TV shows with violence much worse than this, that is either glorified or completely blasé, unearned and inconsequential, to which you haven’t bat an eyelid. If you’re someone who doesn’t watch many films or much television, and when you do it’s period costume drama or daytime soaps, then sure, I can understand how the blood and the physicality in ‘Joker’ is off-putting. But for God’s sake, you went to see a film about the Godfather of villains - what the heck did you expect? White linen and ponies?
‘Left-wing’/right-wing’-centric politics
Because some people think you either believe in one set of rules or another set and never shall the two meet. And that everything is a political message. I’m sorry, it isn’t. A film is neither ‘left’ nor ‘right’. It simply is. You’re seeing what you see because you’re bringing that part of you to the show, and it’s reflecting back at you. This power has always been fascinating about film.
Don’t believe me? There’s a bunch of leftists out there calling the film right-wing propaganda. There’s also a bunch of righties out there calling it left-wing propaganda. Neither can agree.
Hypocritical film critics
Films are not dangerous. People’s actions are. The press and public blaming a single 3rd-party source for those actions, is what’s dangerous. The use of the word ‘dangerous’ in some critics’ reviews absolutely appalled me. Here’s how absurd it got: one critic whose work I regularly like and admire, said that the film was a provocation and that it would induce violence in the streets. Their wording suggested that the entire system would crumble upon the film’s release. OK I might be hyperbolic, so here’s an extract:
…a toxic rallying cry for self-pitying incels, and a hyper-familiar origin story so indebted to “Taxi Driver” and “The King of Comedy” that Martin Scorsese probably deserves an executive producer credit. It’s possessed by the kind of provocative spirit that’s seldom found in any sort of mainstream entertainment, but also directed by a glorified edgelord who lacks the discipline or nuance to responsibly handle such hazardous material, and who reliably takes the coward’s way out of the narrative’s most critical moments.
- David Ehrlich
[I had to look up the work “edgelord” as it’s not part of my own common parlance. It is: someone, typically on the Internet, who tries to impress or shock by posting exaggerated opinions such as nihilism or extremist views.
As if its author was missing the self-awareness in what he was writing…]
Two weeks later, nothing had happened. No groups of incels taunting women. No riots in the streets. No car bombings outside banks or molotovs hurled at cops. No masked clowns running around beating up bankers. Instead of that critic acknowledging they might have exaggerated their predictions, or reevaluating their analysis, they released a second review stating that the film isn’t even good enough to entice the violence that it’s preaching. Well, I call bullshit of the self-righteous kind.
Mental health
This one I don’t know how to touch upon, because it’s a specialist field and I have no qualification in it. Others do, and so I can pass on this: I’ve heard one mental health professional call it a brilliant and painful to watch portrait of the patients he deals with everyday. I have heard another call it utter nonsense.
On the BBC Radio’s flagship film show when Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo were presenting, one listener wrote in saying they couldn’t stand watching it due to how insulting a portrayal of mental health it was. Another listener wrote in saying how much of a comfort they found it.
So again, maybe it’s neither. It’s just a film. And like other “just a film” films, it has served some viewers positively. Whilst dealing with their own mental health issues, traumas, and social anxieties, that they struggle to talk about, in ‘Joker’ they found much-needed pathos and catharsis.
Media-induced Hystria
This film really brought out the self-appointed saints and holier-than-though flag wavers. For those who took Michael Caine’s Alfred’s lines in the previous Batman films as a prophecy, that “some men just want to see the world burn”, and this ‘Joker’ here was the Second Coming of the demon figure, I have this: the apocalypse had already been predicted by extroverted and unthoughtful commentators, by fast-thinking film critics and agenda-driven hecklers. Oh yes, it had already been done. Back in 1999. That movie was ‘Fight Club’. You know what happened? Nothing of any significance.
So stop fuelling the same knee-jerk reactions, self-righteousness, and hatred that you think you’re fighting.
Now that that’s over and done with…
Holy shit!! Was my first reaction walking out of the cinema. That’s after I regained my voice, having had my breath taken away by this film.
“Why so serious?” we were asked several years ago, in Christopher Nolan’s opus that has some seriously questionable issues of basic film continuity that we don’t care about because of how swept up we were in its atmosphere, dread, and fantasy. And now to that question, we have the answer.
I don’t need to describe the plot of ‘Joker’ considering the massive box office hit it has become, first climbing the charts to the no.1 spot, then falling down the list, before climbing up again through word-of-mouth. Part of the pleasure of watching the film is seeing it unfold. The likelihood is if you’re reading this then you know the plot already. The movie was such a sell-out success, I struggled to get a ticket in central London for the first couple of weeks. I had to book way in advance. Cinemas were rushing to cancel other screenings to push this one in to meet demand. A communal hysteria overcame all of us in the rush to be captivated by this latest audiovisual narrative, to witness this Greek tragedy of a regular Joe trying to make it day to day, beaten down and standing back up, rising against expectations. It’s an old story we all love.
Nobody is watching ‘Joker’ from an entirely objective point of view or clean slate. Everyone knows this is the villain from the Batman tales. In those movies, where Batman is at the forefront, we are made to root for a ridiculously rich playboy, who dates skinny supermodels and ballerinas, buys out five-star hotels at a whim, whose money is probably off-shore to avoid taxes, builds his own illegal and unchecked weaponry and surveillance equipment, plays the “good guy” by his own standards. We go along with it. In ‘Joker’, it is the arch-nemesis who’s put at the forefront, and to some degree, as with all good storytelling, as with Batman, we are asked to offer some degree of empathy.
The vice of arrogance of the rich stepping forward to declare they know how to fix society’s problems, yet are totally detached from the masses and have no clue how to connect with the disenfranchised, is perfectly exemplified here in Bruce Wayne’s father, Thomas.
At the risk of this review becoming a balanced study of the relationship between hero and foe, I’ll keep this as brief as possible. Both Batman and Joker feel the system is unfair, and work to rebalance things. Batman does it by fighting off “bad guys” one by one, a lone vigilante. Joker on the other hand, eventually, is driven by lachesism - a desire for some sort of disaster or destruction - in order for the status quo to be shaken and for new things to rise; the idea of new life born through the ashes of the old.
I don’t think the film even tries to be a superhero/villain story. From the outset it’s clear the filmmakers thought “OK, forget the fantasy aspect of it all. If this were to happen FOR REAL, how would it have started? What would the root of it all be?”. The root is as simple as it is complex. A few things the film suggests certainly strike a cord with many of us: the breakdown of communities, of families, and the resulting loneliness and solitude are a killer. Anyone subjected to it for long enough is at risk of a terrible breakdown of reason and connection.
The initial trailers oozed Phoenix’s talent, right there and then, and there was very little to worry about in regards to performance and sincerity to the character. De Niro is in top form (did we ever doubt it?) as is the entire cast - there’s not a single misstep.
Accusations that the performances save poor direction are misguided - one doesn’t happen without the other. Todd Phillip’s efficiency with the shooting schedule meant that he and Phoenix would have time to ‘play’ with the character, resulting in several of the film’s most memorable moments, for example when Arthur Fleck steps into the fridge, and the dance in the bathroom - a pivotal moment of transformation - improvised on location, when the original description in the script had called for Phoenix to simply run to the toilet and throw-up.
There’s so much to talk about in regards to the performance, from the nervous laughter that Phoenix conjured up, to his dislocated shoulder; did anyone else notice that the shoulder comes and goes, depending on which persona he embodies? The dances, too, are a reflection of the transformation he is going through. These physical queues alone make rewatching the film necessary for a full understanding and appreciation.
The moment Arthur Fleck is pulled out of the police car, is placed on top of the car, wakes up and unfurls himself, high above the crowd, is one of 2019’s most powerful cinematic images.
The references to previous much-loved films are obvious. No one’s trying to hide them. Yet in no way does that detract from the enjoyment of the overall piece. The ghost of Travis Bickle of ‘Taxi Driver’ is all over the place, as is Rupert Pupkin of ‘The King Of Comedy’. These are repeatedly discussed elsewhere. But the one character reference that I’m not seeing mentioned anywhere is also obvious: that of Joaquin Phoenix’s alter-persona in the 2010 faux-documentary ‘I’m Still Here’; the moment of his interview on the David Letterman show feels very poignant now. It is vile how the audience laugh at someone clearly so uncomfortable.
The music is as relevant as the cinematography. A lot of the score had been composed and recorded before the shooting began, and played on set - a rare practice that delivered a profound experience for all involved. Icelandic composer Hildur Gudnadottir brings an original sensibility to the familiar feelings of discomfort, dread, and an undercurrent of threat. Having played the cello on ‘Arrival’s score and composed the music to ‘Chernobyl’ and ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’, I’m looking forward to whatever she does next.
A modern piece with echoes of nostalgia, shedding light on one of pop culture’s most famous and infamous symbols, using much loved cinematic references, and making full use of today’s talents to evoke a timeless energy. The red and the black clashing with the outsider who tried to be a conformist but realised the unbearable lightness of being through one hundred years of solitude.
These cinema expose focused on the Joker (whom I know very little about) brings in a lot more than meets the eye. It's like the focal point of a scene but around it you have incorporated references to mythology, tragedy, literature and other points of culture that the Joker seems to represent a lot more than just a movie character. I watched Joaquin Phoenix' interview again as I don't remember much of it. A well played role by him, but Letterman is in his true usual character. He can really get on the wrong side of people. Used to love watching his show but the more time goes his character didn't age that well neither did his jokes. I am not sure what he's playing at, but that whole interview was like a set up right to get a message across. Either way, I think you piece is titled very appropriately and I wonder if it should not be longer... Seriously!