The exploration of delusion continues in the second installment of Todd Phillips’ ‘Joker’ franchise.
Cigarette dangling from her lips, Lee Quinzel (Lady Gaga) gazes at an ashen Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix). Fresh from surviving a tragedy, he is finally free to reunite with the one whom he could not live without.
But Quinzel had other ideas. To her, Fleck is not a god, but merely a man, and an inferior one at that. When he says she loves him, she answers, “It was only for the fantasy.”
The exploration of delusion continues in the second installment of Todd Phillips’ Joker franchise, and this time, this anti-hero gains a frenzied companion in Quinzel, who adds chaos to the instability of Fleck’s character. But, more importantly, he falls in love through slightly broken and deranged rose-colored glasses.
At first glance, this film clearly prioritized performance over plot, and rightly so. Phoenix elevates his method of acting and embraces the maniacal yet mentally disturbed Fleck. Critics have panned his singing, but I appreciated it. It had a Ryan Gosling in La La Land type of charm, and it wasn’t as bad as Russell Crowe in Les Miserables, as one news outlet wrote.
Gaga, on the other hand, provided that hyper-delusional level of madness that I expected from Harley Quinn’s character, and her singing voice—I have no notes. Who could forget her whisper-singing The Carpenters’ Close To You?
On the other hand, most critics panned its musical aspect, saying it’s an unnecessary film element. But I, on the other hand, beg to differ. Musical numbers have long been a debatable thing to add to a movie or television show due to the suspension of disbelief aspect. In this case, however, breaking into song actually had a byline.
The film paints a disturbing portrait of what lies beneath any individual driven by lunacy. It is a reality that many face and are sometimes unaware of the journey that lies ahead.
This is not the first time this plot driver is used in the media. The musical comedy Crazy Ex-Girlfriend prominently utilized it to showcase that its main character used music to escape reality. The musical aspect eased my unease as a not-a-lover of violence-heavy films, and the soundtrack is brilliant. I was smiling from ear to ear when Phoenix sang Ella Fitzgerald’s Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered, as well as when the manic pair duetted to the Bee Gees’ To Love Somebody.
What was truly disappointing, though, was that the transition between musical and “reality” was not smoothly done. There seemed a lack of commitment, which I felt stemmed from a possible fear of flopping. As a musical apologist, there is truly no shame in developing a musical. However, failure rears its ugly head when there is no full surrender to the genre.
Both Gaga and Phoenix could have sung more and drove that delusion home, but there was not enough push to do so. The fear of flopping loomed more than the creative license, sadly.
The storytelling could have been stronger, especially since Fleck held the masses in the palm of his hand. He was Joker, a nihilistic idol who served the public’s desire of anarchy in Gotham. I don’t mind a downfall after falling in love, but I needed more convincing.
Their chemistry was not that strong, and I felt they were more visible individually more than a pair. But don’t get me wrong—Gaga is the perfect singing partner to Phoenix, because her voice blends effortlessly with his, a talent she will continue to carry all her life.
Execution and storytelling is the main point of improvement but the film’s thesis surrounding mental illness should not be discounted. At the core of it, Fleck was a victim of abuse all his life. From being undermined at home to being bullied at work, he chose the villain life because of his circumstances. This is not to say that every villain deserves redemption, but in this case, Fleck’s mental challenges were the root cause of his terrible choices.
It did not help that Quinzel also played a part in that for her own gain. Fantasy played a big part here, which caused Fleck more harm than good. She, like his mother, falsely provided him a world where he could be loved and simultaneously heightened his anxious attachment issues.
The guards at Arkham State Hospital were abusive and terrible towards him, even committing sexual manhandling to wield their superiority over him. So it is truly understandable that Fleck is caught in his own whirlwind imagination, dreaming up scenarios of dancing under a blue moon or on a television show with an audience laughing with him, not at him. It’s because he wishes to live in a universe where he makes the joke, not becomes them.
But, alas, delusion is the demise that comes crumbling down on Fleck as he wakes to the reality of everything. The world is not singing with him, his true love lies, and he has to live with eternal blood on his hands.
Like it or not, the film paints a disturbing portrait of what lies beneath any individual driven by lunacy. It is a reality that many face and are sometimes unaware of the journey that lies ahead. Overall, it is a disturbing and (sometimes) unnecessary violent story of a man who needs help.
But Alan Moore’s The Killing Joke wraps up the tale of this Joker best: “All it takes is one bad day.” May we never suffer the same fate.
Joker: Folie A Deux is currently showing in cinemas nationwide.
