When the pressures of a toxic world conspire with life hitting him hard, a failed clown and aspiring comedian takes his inability to bring joy and find happiness badly, as he descends into his own mania and slowly transforms into a laughing psychopath determined to make his mark on the world . . . with an inevitably a red hue—in this early 1980s iconic villain alternative origin story from the director of ‘Old School’ and ‘The Hangover’.
Tortured souls and unfettered maniacs have always made great fodder for literature, TV and film, with few becoming as iconographic as the DC Comics supervillain created by Bill Finger, Bob Kane, and Jerry Robinson, and when the late Heath Ledger helped to elevate comic-book and superhero filmmaking with his extraordinary Oscar-winning performance in 2008’s ‘The Dark Knight’, it was hard to imagine anyone approaching that level again, much less coming from an irreverent comedy director.
Yet now armed with one of the finest actors alive, carte blanche from Warner Bros. and no ‘cinematic universe’ constraints, Todd Phillips weaves together an uncomfortably plausible, real world makings of a monster story. Pushing a gritty and hypnotic tale of a broken man’s descent into madness and anarchy, and a society on the brink, through the filter of comic-book filmmaking, while masterfully manipulating us into empathising with a psycho . . . and delivering a morbid modern masterpiece along the way.
Joaquin Phoenix stars as clown-for-hire and aspiring comedian ‘Arthur Fleck’, a socially awkward loner with behavioural issues and the scars of childhood trauma, living with his ailing elderly mother ‘Penny’ (Frances Conroy) and dreaming of making a name for himself on their favourite US chat show hosted by ‘Murray Franklin’ (Robert De Niro), while fostering a relationship with his alluring neighbour ‘Sophie’ (Zazie Beetz). But as the anger on the streets of Gotham city and the toxicity of the society around him piles on top of personal misfortune and emotional turmoil, Arthur plunges down a dark path which leads to anarchy and tragedy, heading toward his twisteds ideal of long-sought happiness and recognition.
At first glance this may seem like standalone a supervillain origin story, but a closer look reveals that ‘Joker’ is really a comic-book movie by association only. Phillips and his co-screenwriter Scott Silver quickly ditch any early influence from Alan Moore’s 1988 graphic novel ‘Batman: The Killing Joke’ for the tone and narrative of gritty 70s and early 80s crime dramas and character studies, referencing everything from ‘Dog Day Afternoon’ and ‘Network’ to of course the films of Martin Scorsese, as well as more recent fare like 2000’s ‘American Psycho’ and Lynne Ramsay’s own muscular Joaquin Phoenix drama ‘You Were Never Really Here’—a perfect preparation for this role.
Unfolding in 1981 but with a late 70s aesthetic and the production designs to match, ‘Joker’ really does take the Martin Scorsese influence to a new level by introducing us to a grimy dangerous Gotham which you could easily imagine ‘Travis Bickle’ driving a cab through. It’s all beautifully shot in New York city by experienced comedy cinematographer Lawrence Sher(Garden State, The Hangover) who adds another stylistic string to his bow, shooting a story which forsakes spectacle for character and human drama . . . to utterly compelling effect. That’s not to say that there aren’t plenty of gloriously cinematic shots here, quite the opposite, and the drama is further enhanced by a wonderfully moody score from Icelandic cellist and up-and-coming film composer Hildur Guðnadóttir —who takes up the mantle of her tragically deceased mentor and collaborator Jóhann Jóhannsson.
Set against the familiar backdrop of a society under pressure and the struggling working classes being squeezed while the rich watch from their ivory towers, ‘Joker’ takes place in a Gotham where anger, resentment and desperation are bubbling, and the city is a tinder box waiting for a match to be struck . . . so send in the clown. But this is a very specific type of clown, and despite its admirable unsterilised attempts at social commentary, it’s all a foundation for what the ‘Joker’ really is—a bleak but stylish and unforgettable character study.
Phillips wipes away the comic-book artifice of a psychopathic caricature to reveal something more violent, grittier and more disturbingly plausible underneath—the mental illness, desperation and indifference of a tragic soul seemingly born under a bad sign and destined to inflict his pain upon the world—and all for the personal goal of leaving a mark and finding a perverse true happiness, making this a rather depraved aspirational and triumphant tale. There’s also an added layer of context-changing narrative ambiguity throughout the story, feeding off what the audience wants to see and perfectly reflecting Arthur’s state of mind, not to mention potentially adding another angle to the Wayne family story, one of the few links here to wider Batman lore in the film.
Ultimately the success of the film relies entirely on the performance at its heart, and what Joaquin Phoenix delivers is quite remarkable, standing out in an already extraordinary career packed with characters which sear themselves into our memory, further solidifying his reputation as one of the finest actors working today. And come next February it will be hard to deny a second Academy Award to another depiction of this most complex and iconic of supervillains, what would be the first for a leading performance in a comic-book film.
Perhaps the greatest achievement of what is at least in name a comic-book movie, is that it strives to reflect a rising anger—whether justified or not—which threatens to stretch and even tear the fabric of Western society, something which has spooked certain critics who immediately draw parallels with America’s epidemic of mass shootings and the rise of ‘white nationalism’, thereby missing the point and ignoring the bigger picture.
‘Joker’ also dares to make people empathise, even sympathise with Arthur Fleck—at best a broken and dangerous delusional fantasist, and at worst an anarchic psychopath. Placing the audience into an uncomfortable position and demolishing the walls of their ‘safe spaces’, forcing us to ask (albeit superficial) questions about our place in a decaying society, which can’t be answered by a Tweet or a social media rant, while fostering the so-called controversy which has justifiably helped to make the film a runaway success.
The Bottom Line…
A gritty character study and troubling portrait of mental illness dressed in comic-book movie clothing, ‘Joker’ pulls influences from one of the finest eras in film to deliver a masterful human drama and societal reflection designed to ruffle feathers—establishing Todd Phillips as a bona fide drama director and raising Joaquin Phoenix’s already stellar acting reputation, while shaking up the superhero movie milieu and delivering an instant classic.
When a troubled brutal enforcer/private investigator takes on a case tracking down a missing girl, he gets caught up in a dark conspiracy which takes him down a deep and dark rabbit hole of abuse and perversion . . . and the untouchables who indulge in it in this adaptation of the Jonathan Ames novella from the director of ‘We Need to Talk About Kevin’.
Directed by Lynne Ramsay and starring Joaquin Phoenix, Ekaterina Samsonov and Alessandro Nivola among others.
#TriviaTuesday: A cost-cutting insect-like suit was the early design for the alien hunter in 1987's 'Predator'—unsuccessfully worn by the character's first actor Jean-Claude Van Damme—but it was ditched for a now iconic Stan Winston design at twice the price. Money well spent. pic.twitter.com/pvbTmpgUIB
#TriviaTuesday: ‘Big Kahuna Burger’ is most certainly the fictional fast food of choice in the Tarantinoverse, appearing or referenced in 'Reservoir Dogs', 'From Dusk Till Dawn', 'Death Proof', 'Four Rooms', as well as its starring turn in 1994’s 'Pulp Fiction' of course. pic.twitter.com/k3xVsbDuA6