By Kayleigh Donaldson | Film | December 13, 2024 |
Two years have passed since Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) donned the clown make-up, murdered several people, and became a folk hero to the downtrodden folks of Gotham City. He’s borne witness to none of these uprisings he’s supposedly inspired, having spent the interim period behind bars in the ramshackle Arkham Asylum. With his trial on the horizon and the district attorney, Harvey Dent (Harry Lawton), pushing for the death penalty, all hope seems lost. That is, until the arrival of Lee (Lady Gaga), who has a song in her heart and stars in her eyes…
Director Todd Phillips had sold 2019’s Joker as a one-off experiment for Warner Bros. and DC to allow their tightly controlled superhero franchise the chance to shake things up in an ‘artsy’ manner. But, after grossing $1 billion worldwide, winning two Oscars, and taking home the top prize at the Venice Film Festival, there was no way the studio was going to leave it there. Joker: Folie a Deux comes to us with a reported $200 million budget, but also far more tepid reviews. Audiences don’t seem as thrilled with the prospect of a musical drama twisted romance courtroom tale. That’s not their Joker, at least that’s what I’ve seen his die-hard fans proclaiming on social media. They’re not wrong there. What proves most fascinating about Folie a Deux is how it all but tells those supporters to go f*ck themselves.
Folie a Deux is a very mean movie, and I say that as a compliment. The biggest issue with the first film was that Phillips was too timid to make it as nihilistic as he believed it to be. The bleak perspective of a story about a mentally ill loner being elevated to god status through violence was diluted by his enamoured perspective for that idea of the anti-hero. He believed a little too much what Arthur was selling, and so did his fans. That inspired some rather overdone discourse about the film being ‘dangerous’ that it never deserved. Folie a Deux comes far closer to sinking into total annihilation.
Arthur’s lawyer (an underused Catherine Keener) has mounted her defence on the idea of him having a ‘split personality’, one that turns into ‘Joker’ when triggered by the horrific memories of his abusive childhood. To make that case, and do so for a camera-packed trial that’s being broadcast live, she has to sell him to the masses as a pathetic mess with no control over himself. It’s not untrue either, but standing by that defence disempowers Arthur, and his conflict over that is intriguing. If he gives the braying crowds what they want, isn’t there some dignity in that? But Arthur is not his own creation, and the act he puts on in his own defence (allowed by the most lenient judge in all of Gotham, apparently) is cringe-inducing. He’s not funny, he’s not charismatic, and he’s no clown prince of crime. And none of that matters more than the delusion built up by those who want him to be more. That got to me, that crushing truth that some of the most radicalizing figures out there aren’t geniuses but amoral losers who have countless goons doing unpaid PR for them. Why would you want to be those jerks? Something tells me that DC won’t sell as many Joker Halloween costumes this year.
So yeah, there’s stuff here to like. Honestly, there are many things to appreciate: the Looney Tunes-esque animated opening provided by the legendary Sylvain Chomet; Laurence Sher’s cinematography, blending ’70s grime with golden age musical sheen; Steve Coogan playing a slimy TV host who he clearly based on Piers Morgan; Brendan Gleeson as a sadistic prison guard who thinks he’s Sinatra; a truly nasty ending. Phoenix and Gaga have a weird and disjointed chemistry that makes sense as the creation of total fantasy, and both of them can dance up a storm. Leigh Gill returns from the first film and steals the show.
The problem? It’s all so effing BORING! Phillips has somehow managed to take the idea of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest crossed with Pennies from Heaven and sap it of its verve and movement. The musical sequences aren’t directed appropriately, with many numbers just shot in close-up. It’s too long but the important moments of realization are rushed. Gaga’s character is sidelined for much of the second half, even though she’s necessary for the story to work. We don’t see any of the outside world or get a sense of the scale of Arthur’s support base. As with the first film, the problem remains the director. He’s not up to the task, not nervy or skilled enough to match his own ambition. Folie a Deux cries out for someone who knows how to shoot choreography, a filmmaker with a knack for bone-dry dark humour and a foot within the realms of the unreal. You can see all the ways this movie’s supposed to work and it doesn’t commit to them. By the end, you’re frustrated more than anything else.
In many ways, Joker: Folie a Deux is a better film than its predecessor. It’s at least more willing to subvert expectations. Yet the weaknesses are unignorable and Phillips cannot help but shoot himself in the foot. Believe it or not, dude, but I was rooting for you.
Joker: Folie a Deux is in cinemas now.