'Joker: Folie à Deux' is a Nihilistic Unnecessary Sequel
There were elements Joker was criticized for that I defended. Sadly, I can't stand by my defense for its sequel. In fact, it's a warning of how paying homage is better than trying to come up with an original concept when the Director has no ideas. Joker: Folie à Deux is daring in its choices yet condescending at the same time. It subverts expectations with cheap provocation. Folie à Deux is so nihilistic that it makes Joker look like it was made by Disney. I'm torn whether I like some of its plot twists or not. In some ways it goes completely against the commercial system. In other ways, Todd Phillips is being confrontational with his audience for his personal amusement.
Director Todd Phillips doesn't care what you think. He and Joaquin Phoenix made a movie for them. Not the audience. The movie comes across as an intentional middle finger to Batman fans. As someone who's not only a Batman fan but wanted to be involved in film because of 1989's Batman, I partially don't mind that. Phillips clearly has a disdain for comic books. Although parts like the Murray Franklin show were inspired by Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns, Joker was primarily an homage to Martin Scorsese. It was the love child between Taxi Driver and The King of Comedy. Considering Martin Scorsese was tied to the project at one time, it makes sense how Todd Phillips went in the direction he did.
We need more movies like that—ones that ditch the source material to extract something meaningful from its characters. In Joker: Folie à Deux, so much connotation is lost. It makes the point of the first movie meaningless, placing us all in one big joke. You're right, Arthur; I don't get it. Joker was a movie about us trying to treat each other better. If Arthur Fleck didn't have an abusive mother or a society that was physically and mentally negligent toward him, then Arthur could have had a moderate to happy life. Imagine if we were collectively empathetic; we wouldn't turn good people into murderers. Underneath Joker's ugliness, there was tremendous sensitivity. Joker: Folie à Deux still has that sensitivity but stabs it in the gut by the end.
The beginning of the film is promising. It opens like a classic Warner Bros. Looney Tunes cartoon, reenacting the events of the Murray Franklin show to the Joker being arrested. We then see Arthur Fleck, once more played masterfully by Joaquin Phoenix, who's even thinner than he was in Joker! In Arkham Asylum, Arthur joins a choir in a conjoining ward that mixes male with female prisoners. How's that possible? Wouldn't everyone be hooking up or getting killed? For once in Arthur's life, he does romance someone. Lee Quinzel, AKA Harley Quinn (Lady Gaga), is obsessed with Arthur. For shooting Murray Franklin on his show, Lee is drawn to Arthur's notoriety. The movie becomes a tale of finding happiness even in the most desperate situation imaginable. That's at least until it smashes that lovely sentiment into pieces.
The term folie à deux means two people sharing mental illness who are in close association with each other. I guess the title Joker: Madly in Love was too corny. Lee, like Arthur, is a victim of parental abuse. Rebelling against her victimizers causes her to be locked up. By sharing trauma, Arthur earns the love of his life. Together, the two begin to wreak havoc. Or at least in one scene, that's a ton of fun.
Once the musical numbers start, the film begins to fall apart. Joaquin Phoenix may have won an Oscar for this role, but he would be considered for a Razzy with his singing abilities. The man can't carry a tune to save his life. Meanwhile, Lady Gaga is singing circles around Phoenix. It's an imbalanced mix of talent, making the musical pieces an uneven mess. There are no original songs in Joker: Folie à Deux. Just covers of classics. That's Entertainment from the 1952 MGM film The Bandwagon is performed, as well as Stevie Wonder's For Once in My Life and Close to You by The Carpenters. The tunes narratively work in the beginning as it's tied to Arthur's love for music, which binds him to Lee.
Past the midpoint of the film, the musical pieces become forced. They carry nothing to the story other than to fill up the time until the next scene. If you were expecting Arthur to become the Joker and cause destruction with Harley Quinn in Gotham City, then you'd be mistaken. Joker: Folie à Deux is a trial film that exclusively takes place in two locations. The prison and the courtroom. The idea is to subvert audience expectations by making a courtroom drama. Such subversions in the plot have to be measured with a degree of consideration, which Joker: Folie à Deux lacks.
Arthur is tried for his murders in the last film because Todd Phillips can't come up with any new ideas. Phillips constantly regurgitates what happened in the last film like it's the trial from the final episode of Seinfeld. Many of the characters from Joker return to testify against Arthur. Even Garry (Leigh Gill) shows up in a scene that will make you lose your empathy for Arthur.
The one thing the movie has going for it is its aesthetics. The cinematography is an incredible continuation of Lawrence Sher's work from Joker. The soft light, harsh blues, and greens paint a sick world that's gorgeously disturbing. Mark Friedberg's production design will make you want to take a shower due to its combination of dirty prisons and garbage-filled streets. Hildur Guðnadóttir also returns to capitalize on her previous work with unsettling instrumentations representing Arthur's troubled mind. Everything aesthetically is phenomenal. If only the script could be held to the same standards as the mise-en-scène.
The chances Todd Phillips takes with this film are brave but awful in delivery. Phillips makes you feel dumb for liking the first film. At the same time he pays constant homage to Joker like a greatest hits album. Without giving the plot away, it feels like the script is counterpointing the first film's critiques by telling the audience that Arthur is not a man to look up to. We already know that. Only an idiot or a deranged person wouldn't understand it. Yet Phillips wants to slam that point over the audience's head with a sledgehammer.
Almost every point from the first film is made again as Todd Phillips and Scott Silver rush the script through the door. In its final moments, Todd ridicules his audience so he can leave a lasting stamp on the picture. Mission accomplished. But why? The third act is a revolt against fandom. As bold as the choices are, they're sophomoric in their ideas. It's shock value for the sake of schadenfreude. Belittling the audience for liking something popular is counterproductive, lazy, cynical storytelling that should be canned before shot. From cringy songs sung off cue by Joaquin Phoenix to a plot that destroys the message of the first film, Joker: Folie à Deux is a hate-filled mess that even an institutionalized person couldn't relate to.
