Jasonic's Favorites: Joker
Hello, and good evening, Internet!
Batman may be among the top superheroes, but the Joker is among the all-time greats of supervillains!
Released in 2019, Joker is a rather significant comic book film culturally and financially. In a period right before COVID-19 had an effect on the world, it became the first ever R-rated movie to gross $1 billion and was critically appreciated for its significant attention toward moral nihilism and other mental illness themes. Critically, it wasn't top-tier though many would even say that it's "aggressively okay" to which I say that it's better than that. At the time, it was the first of the DC villain spinoffs to come out separate from what was back then the main DC Extended Universe. This allowed it to be completely separate from any other DC or Batman continuity and simply breathe life into its own ideas and themes separate from any other place in live action superhero movies. I wasn't wholly interested in it at first, but my good friend, Sal, ended up enjoying it so much that I ended up getting the Blu-ray back in 2020; although I didn't get to see it in theaters, it was a majorly significant film to me because, at the time, I was still getting over the hurdle of my own mental illness. I had been medicated -- thankfully not needing it as heavily as Arthur himself -- and, prior to that, went through a period of feeling freaked out by dark movies out of fear that they were reflective of my life and mental state. I finally showed my dad that that was no longer true and tolerated the film as it got darker thematically and emotionally. Now I've gotten the chance to enjoy it to this day, even more so now. Even so, I will examine whether it deserves any criticism like I always do, but I will also be joined by my good friend, Sal, himself as my first ever guest on this blog. With that, let's dive deep into the psychological thrill ride of Joker starring Joaquin Phoenix.
*SPOILERS* (though maybe you have seen or heard of this movie, in which case, read on)
The film is its own continuity set in 1981 detached from any other Batman or DC film; in it, Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) is a mentally ill party clown who gets gigs and aspires to be a stand-up comedian, but isn't considered very funny by his peers and boss. It opens with him getting jumped by some street youths while advertising a business closing, the boys making off with the sign, beating him with it, and kicking him down; he is given a gun by his co-worker, Randall (Glenn Fleshler), in case he needs self-defense and keeps it on him. While living with his mother, Penny (Frances Conroy), she and Arthur watch Live! with Murray Franklin in which Arthur aspires to be recognized on the show by Murray (Robert De Niro) himself. Although he keeps a joke diary for the sake of stand-up routines, time and again, he is not received very well first when his boss fires him for having a gun, his social services for medication getting cut funding, and later when he attempts to do stand-up himself in a Gotham City bar. Following him getting fired, three different men working for Wayne Investments overhear him having an uncontrollable laughing fit on the subway due to his neurological disorder; the men make fun of him and jump him too, resulting in Arthur (wearing his clown makeup still) using his gun to shoot two of them in self-defense and murder the third. Due to his craziness, Arthur shockingly is unbothered, but meanwhile Thomas Wayne (Brett Cullen) condemns the murders as Arthur inadvertently inspires a movement of clown mask protestors against the wealthy for condemning their society. Thomas seeks to run for mayor to help such people as Penny persists on her letters reaching him for the sake of assisting them. When Arthur intercepts one of her letters, he discovers and is outraged that he is her and Thomas's illegitimate son. He tries to visit and confront Mr. Wayne on such matters only to learn from the man himself that Penny, in her days of housekeeping for the Waynes, was actually deemed crazy and admitted to Arkham State Hospital. Penny is ironically admitted to the medical hospital after detectives question her for Arthur's murders; during a visit to said hospital, Arthur sees himself made fun of on Murray's show for simply laughing on stage during his stand-up comedy and his jokes falling flat. As Arthur investigates the manner with his mother and is invited to be on the Murray Franklin show, he will soon embrace his craziness and instigate the movement he started under the belief that his life is not a tragedy, but a "comedy".
The Joker is widely popular for a number of reasons, but what most comic book nerds know is that he doesn't have a definitive identity or origin story in most cases; this movie, in a vain similar to, but different from Batman '89, goes out of its way to invent both. The film exclusively follows him as he navigates his growing insanity allowing him full character development as he descends from a helpless and confused mentally ill loner to a completely psychotic man who no longer cares after the way the world and the people in his life treat him. The long staircase leading to his apartment reads as a metaphor for the struggle of mental illness; at the start, he is lost and confused, hoping for a way out as he repeatedly climbs those stairs on a daily basis. In most cases where the Joker is a straight up villain who does all the evil things he does in other media, it would be understandable that you don't empathize or sympathize with how unhinged he acts. In the case of this movie, however, Arthur's struggle is relatable to some degree, meaning that one could easily empathize with how deeply he struggles with mental illness and society mistreating him so badly.
It's an extreme case in which he is so neurologically crazy to a point where almost anything could make him snap so easily, but it's written in a way that you're rooting for him not to snap; one might even be led to believe that his imagined relationship with his apartment neighbor, Sophie Dumond (Zazie Beetz), is the only good spot in his whole life that he at least has something nice even when his relationship with his mother falls apart. However, it becomes one of those cases where the protagonist is so unreliable that the reveal that he imagined the relationship hits harder on a second watch. The metaphor with the stairs ends up becoming more potent when Arthur, after first killing his mother for being crazy and adopting him then Randall for getting him fired, decides that he's going to embrace his craziness by dancing down the stairs in his Joker makeup. At that point, you know things are about to go south as Arthur fully becomes the Joker, goes onto Murray, and kills him, inciting the huge riot as the climax hits. As long as you're not crazy delusional yourself, but understand the struggle, it at least makes sense why Arthur would allow himself to go off the deep end and that's what makes this a believable origin for a figure like the Joker.
Given its dissonance from other Batman media, one could easily watch this movie on its own and not be lost, however, keen fans will no doubt catch a reference, cameo, or implication that may suggest something about what this movie is building up. Particularly with the Wayne family, Thomas Wayne being a significant character/figure is, of course, a big showcasing that Batman's parents haven't died yet. They do in the end as the fans and other people with that common knowledge would expect, but along the way, there are nuggets of ideas for the fans as well as some things that strongly suggest the future of young Bruce Wayne (played here by Dante Pereira-Olson). In the scene where Arthur visits Wayne Manor and plays around with young Bruce with his comedy props and forcing him to smile, people who don't know the age difference between Arthur and Bruce here may simply think that the two meeting is the fateful meeting between the Joker and Batman before they become future foes. Turns out that Arthur is actually in his 40s while Bruce is still a kid, meaning that by the time Bruce would become Batman in his 30s, the Joker would be in his 70s. With that though there were theories from before and after the movie came out suggesting that Arthur may not be the Joker that Batman fights later, but rather a precursor to the Joker from something like The Dark Knight.
The sequel to this movie, which I still haven't seen, may disprove this theory, but regardless, it works as a fun connection between these two forces whether or not you think about it. Even better was the cameo of Alfred Pennyworth (Douglas Hodge), which I had forgotten about or didn’t fully recognize when I watched this film initially. Fans would immediately recognize him by his British accent and the way he comes to young Bruce's assistance when he sees a strange man messing around with him through the gates of the manor. Alfred tries to send him away, but a persistent Arthur eventually tries to strangle Alfred through the gate, forcefully declaring that Thomas Wayne is his "father" before running off like nothing happened. This plus the Wayne family's significance throughout is one way they could have integrated/expanded upon larger Batman lore and it's only enhanced by the fact that the iconic deaths of Thomas and Martha Wayne -- the latter played by Carrie Louise Putrello -- in the alleyway happens at the climax as the riots explode as a result of Joker's actions. Unlike Batman '89, it is not the Joker himself doing it, but rather one of the clown protestors he influences -- the thug even going as far as repeating Joker's words on Murray: "You get what you f**king deserve!"
This movie won an award for Best Actor at the 92nd Academy Awards back in 2020 and Joaquin Phoenix's Arthur Fleck/Joker proves why it deserves it; he is among the most creative takes on the character with his conflicted, emotionally raw mental struggle. The way he uncontrollably cackles in a way that's pained and restrained shows us initially that he's not exactly proud of being and feeling like a crazy man. He speaks in such a way that's self-serving to his ego and the way he shares his demented jokes and ideas to people including his social services therapist tells us that he tries to be happy in his own little world, but doesn't quite achieve that satisfaction in life -- hence why he wants to off himself. Only by the end when he embraces his craziness before and on Murray does he finally get a chance to laugh happily and contentedly in the back of the police car as he watches the destruction occur around the city. With this much of a performance to work with and it winning such a significant award, Phoenix is probably the second best Joker after only Heath Ledger (RIP) himself; just about all Jokers in live action and animation are masterful since he's such a deep character. So many actors can ham it up or diversify his personality and mannerisms all they want and Phoenix proves how he can work on a more serious psychological level.
The other actors each all contribute their own acting and dynamics to play off Joker well, however, none are quite as notable as Joaquin himself. The main notable actor besides him might be Robert De Niro as Murray, but otherwise, everyone here gets the job done and plays off the main character well and that’s that. For now, I wish to segue into my friend Sal’s take on the deeper psychology of this movie, its main character, and the people around him…
Sal: First of all I want to thank Jason for inviting me to collaborate with him in reviewing Joker, a movie which I find incredibly interesting and provocative. As Jason mentioned, my contribution intends to provide a take on the “deeper psychology” of the project as a whole. So far, we’ve already touched on some of the major themes I wish to elaborate on, namely, the movie’s portrayal of Arthur’s struggle with mental illness. It’s precisely his struggle, as Jason so astutely noted, that allows us, as viewers, to empathize with him. However, I would like to push his claim a step further, and say that the success of this movie rests on the fact that giving its main character an origin story, rooted in social conditions not dissimilar to our own, allows us to identify with both Arthur and Joker. While we might question the “humanity” of Joker, the structure of the movie forces us to view Arthur through an undeniably human lens. Jason has already set up this tension beautifully for us. He’s right in saying that “The Joker” is among the all-time greatest supervillains. However, Phillip’s version subverts our expectations of this classic character by humanizing him— this subversion results in the transformation of “The Joker” as the quintessentially and essentially evil villain, to “Joker” as the social-outcast, the misfit, the weirdo, the incel, and (most importantly) the anti-hero. As an anti-hero movie, Joker is also an anti-social, anti-psychology, and anti-psychiatry movie; not because it stands in opposition to all these things, but because it subverts some of our commonly held beliefs about them.
Viewed in this way, Phillips’ Joker is more similar to Scorsese's Taxi Driver than it is to anything stemming from the DCEU or the MCU. Without derailing our conversation about Joker to one about Taxi Driver, I’d simply like to point to a striking similarity between Travis Bickle and Arthur Fleck to help frame what I believe Phillips’ subversive message to be. Both characters keep a journal which gives us an insight into how they perceived themselves and how they wish to be perceived by others. I want to compare Travis’ entry —“I believe that someone should become a person like other people”— to Arthur’s entry —“The worst part of having a mental illness is people expect you to behave as if you don’t”— to say that Arthur’s struggle with mental illness is in fact a struggle to become a “real person,” according to prescribed societal standards. The word “person” comes from the Latin perosona, which can mean “mask,” “theatrical role,” or “character,” and it is through this evolution of meaning that we eventually come to understand it as “individual human being” or “personal identity.” In order to become a person it is not enough to simply put on a mask or play a role. One must play their role according to the socially acceptable rules of engagement in order to be recognized by others as a valid and legitimate person. Arthur struggles to find this recognition because our rules of engagement dictate that laughing is reserved for particular social encounters. This is why Arthur is forced to carry a card to help others understand why he’s “different” and why when he’s asked by business men on the subway, “So, buddy, tell us. What’s so f**king funny?,” he’s compelled to answer, “Nothing. I… I have a condition.”
Up to that point, every attempt by Aurthur to be socially recognized and accepted as a person was met with disrespect from others. While the subway scene marks a tonal shift in the movie, we don’t yet see Arthur’s complete “descent” into madness. As Jason noted, he fantasizes that he will be recognized by Murray Franklin as a comic like him. Arthur sees the role of the comic as the likeliest socially acceptable role, and in Murray’s case socially adored, for him to fit into, given his seemingly uncontrollable laughter. Yet, Arthur is so absorbed in his own fantasy that he fails to see that Penny, his own mother, seeks the same kind of recognition from Thomas Wayne, whom she claims is Arthur’s father. In this way, Wayne and Murray play parallel roles, each representing ideal social roles and each disrespecting Penny and Arthur. Penny’s case is a tragedy because, if Arthur truly was Wayne’s son (which I’m inclined to believe), then her desire to be heard and to be believed threatened Wayne’s idealized political image. Thus, her persona was sacrificed to preserve Wayne’s public persona clean; she was deemed “crazy,” relegated to abject poverty, and died in that condition. Arthur’s case, on the other hand, is a comedy because his response to the massive disappointment he received from Wayne and Murray was to subvert the societal expectation of becoming a real socially accepted person (the way irony subverts the meaning of phrases) by resigning the desire altogether. Instead, he accepted the symbol of Joker, an anti-social identity. Ironically, his anti-social identity mobilizes an entire political movement. As Joker, though, he himself is completely free of all societal expectations and political intentions. He is free to laugh and dance, but also to kill and destroy. I hope this interpretation begins to show that the anti-hero contains incredible potential for both social progress and social destruction. It’s a double-edged sword. On the one hand it breaks free from oppressive societal expectations, on the other, it violates the basic foundations of civilized society. There’s other aspects of the movie I would love to comment on, but for now I’ll turn it back over to Jason!
Thank you, Sal! With my own thoughts and yours, I conclude that Joker still holds up well today with how shockingly relevant it is. It portrays and symbolizes Joker’s mental struggle so well, ties into the Batman origin and lore so neatly, the main actor is fantastic -- his subordinates still great -- and there are very deep ways it goes about humanizing Joker and helping us understand his general psychology. Prior to knowing this movie, I knew only of Joker being the archnemesis of Batman who, despite his fun personality, you’d want to see him defeated. Such is not the case here; instead, you can identify with his mental health struggle and feel sorry for the fact that he chose to go off the deep end rather than getting help. Both ways of looking at it are a double-edged sword: the way society may mistreat the mentally ill while the mentally ill just wanna be accepted. We could go on about those moral dilemmas, but that’s the wonder of this film with how it can get those conversations started. With that, I give this movie a solid B and recommend it to anyone who loves the character or thought-provoking movies.
Thank you all for reading and I will see you in the next review!
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