Joke’s On Us: Phillips Composes an Empty, Boring Spectacle
Kudos to Todd Phillips for forcing US audiences to be confronted with the intriguing subtitle for his highly anticipated sequel, Joker: Folie à Deux, a psychiatric term from 19th century French psychiatrist Charles Lasegue, which means ‘madness of two.’ But the shared delirium implied of the toxic romance at the heart of the narrative really applies to anyone who’s impressed by this interminably vacuous sequel to Phillip’s 2019 Joker, which surprisingly won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival and took home a Best Actor Academy Award for Joaquin Phoenix. The director and returning star are joined, in what feels like stunt casting after witnessing the end product, multihyphenate Lady Gaga, whose performance suggests her breakout role in the third remake of A Star is Born (2018) is now a star tarnished. A bloated, kitschy, ersatz musical, which stagnates mercilessly in one of the most inept courtroom sequences conceived, what’s perhaps most disappointing is a bungled attempt at an essentially interesting concept. Returning co-scribe Scott Silver’s iffy bits of dialogue aren’t able to be masked by the strength of the cast this time around, especially with a returning lead who, when he isn’t caterwauling through endless musical numbers, appears to have slipped into eternal somnolence.
Two years after Arthur Fleck (Phoenix) murdered five people (one on national television), his lawyer (Catherine Keener) has found a way to find him mentally competent to stand trial. The defense? Mr. Fleck is suffering from, in the period and language of the film, from multiple personality disorder. It wasn’t Arthur, but his alter ego Joker, a self defense mechanism, responsible for unleashing violence. Just prior to the trial, Arthur is allowed to attend music classes in the minimum security ward of the psychiatric institution where he’s held, courtesy of a self-motivated guard (Brenden Gleeson) who loves himself some classic tunes. There he meets Harleen “Lee” Quinzel (Lady Gaga), an inmate who seems to be Fleck’s number one fan. With the briefest of flirtations, they fall in love, a literal inferno developing as they sing and dance their way into each other’s shared delusion. But now, Arthur has a reason to live, and fires his lawyer so he may defend himself mid-way through his trial, donning his Joker persona at the not-so-subtle bidding of Lee. Though he ignores the red flags suggesting she has ulterior motives, Arthur finds he’s having trouble discerning whether or not he’s two different people or simply one broken, easily corruptible whole.
It would appear Joker: Folie à Deux might have been overwhelmed by the expectations established by its predecessor, opening as it does with a retro Warner Bros. cartoon treatment of Joker being sabotaged by his own insidious shadow. In fact, the sequel only serves to diminish the questionable mystique conjured by the novelty of an R-rated super villain’s origin story which had allegorical ties to reality in ways most comic book related films do not. But if Phillips was trying to please anyone, it was perhaps co-star Lady Gaga, who purportedly insisted on the cast and crew referring to her by character name only (according to DP Lawrence Sher). Making this tidbit even more obnoxious is the inert end product of such a pointless demand. What we get is the equivalent of seeing concert footage of Gaga since there’s really no valid attempts at characterizing who Harley Quinn is supposed to be. Initially, the wide-eyed psychotic stare in her first handful of scenes suggest something promising, like she’s some gonzo femme fatale desiring to use Fleck for own devious means. We learn only that she’s a consummate liar who lives with her wealthy parents on the Upper West side and is basically using her privilege to assert herself in the media spotlight…which doesn’t sound too far removed from the actor’s own origins.
The musical cues, of which there are many, transport us into the fantasy realm, where nothing much happens for the developing chemistry between the leads. A Gotham variety show finds Gaga outshining Phoenix in a way that recalls The Sonny and Cher Show, where audiences could enjoy the talents of Cher but also have to contend with the singing of Sonny Bono. But more often than not, it seems as if Gaga is trying too hard and at the wrong character element. We already know she’s a talented singer. Wouldn’t it have been more interesting to see her outside of this fantasy as a vocal wannabe? Phoenix often feels overwhelmed in their shared sequences, the only out-of-pocket risks occurring during the trial when, dressed as Joker, he attempts to question witnesses using varying degrees of Southern and British accents. Bill Smitrovich futilely commands as a judge who’s all bark and no bite (and doesn’t seem to mind when an accused murderer doesn’t freely approach the witness stand without asking).
The talents of the supporting cast are squandered, with Brenden Gleeson growing tiresome as a musical obsessed abusive cop who takes pleasure in degrading his wards. In what feels like a desperate bid for the film to flex some violent menace, a late staged beat down of Arthur Fleck leads to the murder of a gay prison youth championing his cause and feels rather pointless. The same can be said for erroneous DC comics connective tissue courtesy of Harvey Dent (Harry Lawtey) playing the smug prosecuting attorney, who has about as much personality as a spindly coat rack.
Catherine Keener as a sympathetic lawyer, and Zazie Beetz, reprising her kindly neighbor character from the first film for one scene, appear to be on hand to establish some sense of legitimacy but are usurped by the repetitive ebb and flow of the apathetically constructed narrative. Chaos seems to always be leering around the corner, but when something truly explosive happens we’re already wishing the blast would knock us into the end credits. In their final interaction, Arthur pleads with Lee to stop – he doesn’t want to go on singing, which is where the desires of character and audience finally intersect. An unsurprising climax is only one more instance revealing the lack of attention paid to details. The heavily utilized “What the World Needs Now” track insists love is the only thing there’s just too little of, but there’s much more lacking in Joker: Folie à Deux.
Reviewed on September 4th at the 2024 Venice Film Festival (81st edition) – In Competition section. 138 Minutes
★/☆☆☆☆☆
