I've wanted to write this before, and it's probably been done or already discussed, but I still see confusion or controversy over Joker as a film. Does it have something to say, is it good film, and why is it so polarizing. For me the challenge is not seeing its merits but rather disentangling them in a coherent discussion: plot, characters, directing, setting, tone, etc. Great cinematography, great photography, composition (go back and look at the color schemes/blocking), editing, sound, etc. I could go on and on and I think this film will be looked back on more highly as an excellent example of cinema craft then it even gets now. There's a lot more here than Pheonix's acting.
I think there are two central themes to Joker, one from the perspective of the individual or character of Arthur Fleck and the other from the broader social environment ("we live in a society..."). In the case of the Joker the question posed to audiences challenges their ability to be judges of morality or character and it is the problem known in social psychology as the fundamental attribution error. We judge ourselves by our intentions, and we judge others by our perceptions of their actions: I know I'm a good person who generally acts with good intent, even when I screw up because I have access to my own mental states, but I can only rely on heuristics in judging the intent and subsequent actions of others. For a person with disabilities and limited skill-set like Arthur Fleck this is an impossible obstacle-course, particularly when set against the broader social theme. We live in a society that rewards the adequate and successful i.e. the more equipped you are to engage the world the more likely you are to succeed and thrive. In turn this success is used to further disadvantage individuals like Arthur Fleck who must navigate Kafkaesque bureaucracies to function; if they are cut loose as is done in defunding of his social worker they will be hopelessly adrift. This again follows the parallels of the 1970s and 80s when several high profile exposes of state run mental health institutions (such as One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest) resulted in the closure and subsequent "dumping" into homelessness and the prison system of the chronically mentally ill.
Perhaps the best starting point for a modern audience is to relate the genre of film Joker occupies, which is perhaps dissonant to more casual viewers because the intellectual property is ostensibly a super hero franchise. The Joker is one of the most iconic comic villains featured in various extremes from camp to true psychopath. The movie is a character study in the psychological thriller style rather like American Pscyho although very clearly an homage (elevator scene anyone?) to the Scorsese film Taxi Driver. Arthur Fleck is effectively a re-imagining of Travis Bickle through the lens of the DC franchise as set in a real world Gotham. It is not a big budget blockbuster of typical comic book production and has a more independent or art house feel, which already is a mismatch with audience expectations. Someone growing up on Christopher Reeve's Superman would have very different expectations going into Joker. Travis Bickle is a socially inept loner, the focus of the story, making his way in an alienating and harsh world. Importantly a major theme in the this more grounded look at at character's life is the idea of human duality; real people are complex and hard to cleanly categorize, in the case of Bickle his narrative could just as easily see him end up the villain as the hero; and he ultimately is an anti-hero unfitting of direct emulation or adulation.
I'll revisit the character of Arthur Fleck in a moment, but I want to branch off now and talk about the setting of the film. The DC universe of Joker and Batman exists within the fictional city of Gotham, a thin allusion to New York City, and what's fitting for this telling of Arthur Fleck's story is the parallel with Taxi Driver's (and real life) New York City set in the 1970s and 80s. It was a grimey, corrupt, crime ridden, dirty, unsettling place (another film that captures this time and place as I recall is Spike Lee's Summer of Sam, Dog Day Afternoon, or Howard Beale's "Mad as hell" rant from Network). The garbage strike which is established as running background boiler issue that's set up and referenced throughout the movie is based on true events. So too is the subway shooting that ultimately tips Fleck from down on his luck schmuck to heinous criminal, which it parallels rather closely. Unlike the subway shooting though this film uses the modern day issue of economic disparity rather than racial tensions to craft a more relatable powder keg of social division.
The response was critical, as I understand it, to the "Occupy Wall Street" type commentary of the film which is arguably a bit of anachronism. Although there certainly was unrest over economic concerns during the 80s, notably the Volcker shock aimed at curtailing inflation, or the air line strike, I would argue the more apt analogy would be continued unrest of social issues which presents a thornier issue from a production stand point (subway vigilante shooting) and from an audience relation aspect. Events in 2020 aside I suspect in the wake of the past decade in 2019 there was more direct sympathy or understanding for a seemingly unfair economic system. From what I've gathered people were put off by how quickly the sentiment in the film boils over, but this is analogous to unrest of racial issues in the 80s for example the subway shootings or the Central Park 5. The unrest was there historically, and is well established in the background elements of the film, needing only a catalyst; a spark to light the fuel. Until recently, perhaps, people have been sheltered from large scale riots, but from '68 to Rodney King they were not that uncommon.
I'm loath to inject politics too much into this analysis but there does seem to be parallels with Trump, himself a high figure in 1980s New York, a slumlord who made his fortune by inheritance (i.e. undeservedly) and who publicly commented in favor of the prosecution during the Central Park 5 controversy. The young Wayne employee on the train who is ringleader (Wall Street 3) to the assault on Fleck is oddly similar in appearance to Don Jr. It re-contextualizes the philanthropy or stature of the Wayne family. Perhaps our sympathy to the murder of Wayne's parents would be altered if he were a Trump. Not to say that he deserves it, but perhaps you reap what you sow if your wealth comes at the expense and well-being of everyone else.
The film is well told in the language of cinema; right from the first scene we know Arthur Fleck lives in a world of shit, and without one word of dialogue we have visual symbolism of a Janus-Faced existence and the lone tear smearing his make-up of the Pagliacci type clown. Right out of the gate we know this is a character of inner turmoil who is not adept at expressing so. He puts on a mask (clown make-up) of sanity to function in the world. Life is constantly happening around him, though Fleck is removed. Note the audio at his work when one can constantly hear the goings on of his co-workers while Fleck often quietly set alone. And this symbolism continues, though not particularly subtle but most certainly effective. The lone trudge home after being a victim (emasculated no less, watch as he guards his balls during the attack) with multiple transfers on public transit just to have the last brutal climb up his Sisyphean steps to his dysfunctional home is relatable imagery. The audience will ultimately feel put off by their empathy for Fleck (who has not returned home from a day in which everything has gone wrong feeling defeated?) but also with their general apprehension to him as a person; he makes one feel ill at ease. Which remember at this point in the film Fleck has committed no crimes, he's harmed no one. He earnestly puts in the work at his job despite not his own unhappiness to entertain and amuse.
The fundamental attribution error is explored in Fleck by his mannerism and lack of social grace making audiences uneasy (he's a creep), which ultimately leads to his breakdown. And the film plays up the elements that make him creepy, for one he's a clown. People are generally put off by clowns. There are several allusions to notorious serial killer John Wayne Gacye e.g. Pogo's Comedy club and the diamond face paint for Fleck's clown make-up. Fleck is not capable of reading people, social situations, or engaging others. He's offbeat in his humor (e.g. when he's taking notes at the stand-up routine and laughs at the wrong time) which leads him to be the the punchline to the rest of the world: being terrorized by the kids who steal the sign, being bullied by his co-workers, laughing uncontrollably, etc. An effective example is when he actually manages to tell a convincing lie to the detectives at the hospital, throws his cigarette off with perfect timing, to only run face first into the door; he doesn't even get 10 seconds of dignity. Or when he accidentally shoots the wall, some Charlie Chaplin shtick, his ability to be funny always comes at his expense. And when he otherwise is funny it's almost always a private joke. There are two parts to a joke, the setup and the payoff. When he murders his workplace bully, Randall, he first premeditates a setup by using the chain lock on the door. It's then darkly funny when he lets his other short co-worker Gary leave only for him to be unable to unlatch the door. It's a joke only to Fleck and one the audience shares with guilt. Or consider the joke featured on Murray, "When I was a little boy and told people I was going to be a comedian, everyone laughed at me. Well, no one's laughing now." It's an actual joke from a real comedian, arguably a bit dated even by 1980s standards of comedy, but it's well crafted. Fleck just doesn't know how to deliver it, he's constantly off the mark. He goes on the equivalent of The Tonight Show and tries to tell knock-knock jokes.
Despite all of this he is constantly challenged to explain himself to the world, again with this Kafkaesque onus of responsibility to an indifferent world. He genuinely wants to do the right thing: he asks to have his meds increased which he is compliant in taking, he cares for his narcissistic and abusive mother without question, he tries to entertain the child on the bus, and gives his all entertaining the children in the hospital (a trope of comic book movie actors). Fleck only desires to be recognized for his hard work as evident in his first Murray fantasy.
The premise of the film seems to jump off from a meme critiquing the concept of Batman as a superhero. Batman is a 1%er, a rich man who uses his extraordinary resources to go out and beat up poor people. Obviously the lore of the Batman universe is more nuanced, exploring his vigilantism through a surreal and contrived lens of wacky super villains with grandiose schemes. Bruce himself is the product of garden variety mugging. The real world of vigilantism is far more complex, hearkening back to the subway shooter scene. We as an audience are more willing to extend the benefit of the doubt to a fictional character like Batman because we understand as omniscient viewers his intent and character, because we see the moral code he carries in refusing to kill. This is a simplistic narrative device of many comic book dichotomies. Good and evil are clearly established and the solution is to punch or kill enough of the right evil characters. People want stories to lift their hopes out of the world in which Joker wallows. in the Joker there is the anti-hero's equivalent of a happy ending, significant only to him, the catharsis is wholly his at the discomfort of viewers. Releasing his murderous frustration is akin to the care-free way he descends the Sisyphusian stairs when he's finally shrugged off the burden of carrying on any attempt at a normal life.
Fleck is always expected to explain himself, a quick example of this is when his sleazy boss brings him in about the sign. In seconds his boss goes from questioning why anyone would steal a sign, to strongly suggesting Fleck would do so, insulting him directly from start to finish. Maybe now is the time to delve into what really kills this for mainstream audiences: Fleck is creepy. He's got that uncanny valley persona like he vaguely knows how people act or how to interact with people socially but like his comedy he just can't get the timing right. Intentions mean nothing if your audience is already ill at ease made worse by the fact he lives in his own fantasy world, has jokes that only make sense to him, his greasy emaciated appearance, his uncontrollable laughing, and the fact he's really not alright. It's like the feeling of being unsettled at a restaurant when a person with tourettes is having a problem with ticks. They're not harming or directly targeting anyone but a person making strange facial grimaces and randomly shouting puts one on edge. And Fleck doesn't read subtly, he's very literal and direct. His understanding of a stand-up act is "sex is funny", just shoot me becomes literally "I want to die" he's not good at figurative language. What's more his low weight, tics, or body contortions may be side-effects of the psychiatric meds he's on to attempt normalcy. Contrived as it may seem his off-putting elements are often the price of being a functioning member of society. He is both off-putting but inconsequential, his mother, his social worker, his boss; none of them listen when he explains his real problems or aspirations.
This leads me into the revelation of Fleck's childhood abuse. On the one hand I consider it borderline a cop-out to explain away his weirdness as a result of childhood trauma. You're putting the audience on the spot to either have antipathy to victims of severe childhood abuse or to attempt to condone their misdeeds as adults; it's very emotionally manipulative. Then again child abuse exists, the harmful repercussions of traumatic brain injury, maladjustment, heightened cortisol response, heightened risk to anti-social or maladaptive behavior is all based in fact. These are all aspects people will recognize on a surface level but have a harder time engaging as social ills. And these are hard social questions.
The fall. Once Arthur stands up for himself by killing the Wall Street 3 he's on a downhill ride. He experiences real life triggers: losing his job, his mother's ill health and revelations both about her relation to Wayne and his own traumatic life. It becomes easier for him to let his pro-social obligations slide and embrace his nascent anti-social tendencies. He embraces jokes that are funny only to him: punching out, "don't forget to smile", laughing at the subway murders, etc. This is a film that builds tension the whole way through, but no one questions mistreatment of a weirdo like Fleck. For example the fact Fleck is brought on national TV to be mocked, that the segue way to his intro on Murray is talking about all the problems he has. There's a viciousness in the world that's tolerated as common experience, even if the person on the receiving end sees their place in the world is to make people happy as Fleck does. Joker is unsettling not simply for the awful things "unpredictable" people like Fleck do, but because we are not as good as we think we are. It's why Fleck ends up being the voice of something more to the general descent into madness of the city; our tendency of indifference to others and their struggles breeds disruption and malcontent. The Joker is a figurehead, a symptom of a sick society (possibly literally); not an ethos.
Finally I have to address the vengeance once he fully lets go. The violence is visceral, the catharsis palpable. It's unnerving both how Phoenix portrays the indifference or satisfaction with which he carries it out, but then the subconscious aspect of the narrative which makes him an anti-hero. By the Arkham report we know his mother abused or allowed him to be abused terribly, then took him back in as if nothing as happened to be her own caretaker. Yet I doubt many would see the hospital scene in which he smothers her without a physical discomfort; a direct analogy would almost be something like Dr. Frankenstein destroyed by his creation. The coldness is unsettling but I suspect the subtext of possible justification is equally unnerving. But contrast there is violence we as the audience accept with less concern. No one feels as much discomfort as when the street hoodlums violently assault a sign-spinner, we don't care near as much as when the Wall Street 3 bully him on the train (it's almost welcome for them to redirect their anger from the female passenger to Arthur) and despite our disdain for his actions there is never equal disdain for Randall (his co-worker that bullies and manipulates Arthur) even when he is being his most self-serving and disingenuous (dude uses faux sympathy over the death of Fleck's mother to attempt to cover for his own crimes). There's an inconsistency in how we view misdeeds rooted in acceptable behavior. This is a critique of society crystallized in the lessons of Ledger's Joker, "Nobody panics when things go “according to plan”. Even if the plan is horrifying!" and it's the world the breaks characters like The Joker.
Submitted July 26, 2020 at 04:22AM by louieanderson https://ift.tt/2OSKjKS
