Film Review: Joker
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Joker was not on any of my lists of movies to see. It embodies so many things which I typically avoid like gratuitous violence and creepy psychopaths, as well as my own unwarranted disregard for comic book characters. In a counterintuitive move, I decided to watch it in an early morning insomniac state, which calls into question my sanity. To my utter amazement, I was mesmerized and thoroughly engaged with the humanity of the title character, the seriousness of the message and the artistry of the film. I experienced it as a cri de coeur for compassion and understanding.
Co-written by the director the film, based on the DC Comic book arch-villain from the Batman series, gives the origin story and context of Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix), a professional clown who works demeaning and low paying clown gigs while he aspires to be a standup comedian. He lives at home with his invalid, delusional mother, Penny ((Florence Conroy) who he supports and cares for in a deeply depressing low-income housing apartment in Gotham, a city based on New York in the gritty bad old days when crime and rats were rampant and the city was almost bankrupt. He and his Mom live for The Murray Franklin Show on TV. Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro) is a popular talk show host who once singled Arthur out of the audience and invited him onstage, where he was heckled. The movie follows his trajectory from this fairly dead-end existence to the criminal mastermind and arch villain of the Batman franchise known as Joker.
The deck is stacked against Arthur who has serious mental health problems for which he takes multiple meds as doled out by a welfare agency. On top of that he has a Tourette’s-like disorder which causes uncontrollable fits of laughter at the most inappropriate moments. In spite of these obstacles, he is a hopeful, odd but nice guy. When the city’s financial problems cut the funding for his treatment and his meds, things begin to spiral out of control. He loses his job. He is bullied and ridiculed, often with physical violence. His behavior becomes truly erratic and desperate and his delusional mother gives him information which links him to the wealthy politician Thomas Wayne, who is the father of Bruce Wayne, who grows up to be Batman.
His descent into madness, revenge and pure evil is operatic, strange and darkly poetic, enhanced by the music of Hildur Gudnadóttir, the cinematography of Lawrence Sher, and the bravura performance of Joaquin Phoenix, who thoroughly inhabits the character in a terrifying and empathetic performance. Phoenix’s emaciated body moves so gracefully and hypnotically as the action builds to the frenzied apotheosis in which the masses of disaffected Gothamists emulate his clown persona to embrace him as their cultural ideal. His performance is right up there with Michael Keaton in Birdman.
The sobering message for me was that, on a less dramatic level, this is not uncommon behavior among the disaffected, marginalized, bullied and mentally unbalanced among us, of which there are many. It is cruel and wrong to mistreat them. They are people who need help and compassion and we ignore them at our peril. Could paying attention reduce mass shootings? Of course it could. Is this a cautionary tale? I think it is. Will it make an indelible impression? For sure. Will it change anything? It could open some minds. One can hope.
