Review of Joker (2019)

Review of Joker

Joker Isn’t Wild 

“Violence! Violence! It’s the only thing that will make you see sense”

Mott the Hoople, Violence

“Better to be king for a night than schmuck for a lifetime”

Rupert Pupkin, The King of Comedy

“I have several children who I’m turning into killers. Wait till they grow up”

David Berkowitz, The Serial Murderer know as ‘Son of Sam’

The advertising campaign for Todd Phillips’ Joker suggests a downscale revamp of the demonic Hannibal Lector in Demme’s iconic The Silence of the Lambs. In reality this monster starts as a lamb, the wolf’s clothing follows.  The film, despite the pr blitz promoting deranged violence, is a portrait of mental illness run amok via cruelty and negligence. The gory, disturbing moments are merely garnish. The main entree is a bevy of serious social commentary touching on income inequality, gun control, government attitudes towards the underclass, the treatment of the indigent… Joker has more in common with political science than comic book fiction. And yet this seemingly “serious” movie made nearly $100 million in domestic box office receipts on its opening weekend. The reason can be summed up in two words, Joaquin Phoenix. The mesmerizing actor, this generation’s Jack Nicholson, has honed the portrayal of off-kilter madman to perfection. The track record speaks for itself, from the cruel cult leader Freddie Quell in The Master, to Joe, the loner serial assassin inYou Were Never Really Here. No matter how crazy the part, Phoenix rises. The momma’s boy, rent-a-clown, Arthur Fleck, becomes a disturbing force of chaos, the Joker.  

Physicality is the key to Phoenix’s rendering of the future Batman villain. Phillips takes a conventional approach to filming many of the violent sequences. The repose, the quiet, solo moments are this film.  One meditates on the breathlessness after the storm. The subway murders are conventional film gruel. The refuge in an abandoned bathroom, with the green florescent lights flickering, is the birthplace of the Joker. The soundtrack is inspired by Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings, the touchstone for melancholy classical music.  The cello plays a classical riff and our terrifying monster-clown rises above his lowly station. The movements evoke ballet, tango and Martha Graham as the beautiful, malevolent spirts embody the heretofore forgettable Fleck. The romantic string notes vanquish the dinginess of a life spent scribbling gibberish while playing the fool. Each arm twist and careful foot step crushes the darkness of his “real” home, a dirty tenement apartment which he shares with his elderly mother. This is someone who is going places. The goofy clown, being ignored while waving the ‘liquidation sale’ sign, is now on the path to being the silent “rock star” acknowledging the cheering throngs, while standing on the hood of a taxi. This film has a decent script and wonderful set design, but it is the dancer who makes the story move. 

Phillips’ cloaks the arc of the journey in a homage to the rough and tumble New York City of the late 70s and early 80s. Kudos to the set designers whose attention to detail brought back the ill-fitting cop uniforms, grubby green diesel buses and graffiti covered subways and side streets. It harkens back to Martin Scorsese’s seminal Taxi Driver, where a psychotic  loner also becomes infatuated with gun violence as a vehicle for recognition. The films also share protagonists fantasizing about public acts of violence to bolster their manhood in addition to make-believe girlfriends. 

There are numerous moments when Phoenix metaphorically acts out DeNiro’s infamous clarion call for all disaffected, macho, incels:  “you talking to me?”  Joker is also tied to another DeNiro/ Scorsese collaboration,The King of Comedy. Both films feature misanthropes, who fancy themselves as stand-up comics, whose path leads them to fixate on beloved talk show icons. Ironically Deniro, in this incarnation, plays the host himself, rather than the antagonist. His character, Murray Franklin delivers a marvelous performance that recreates the avuncular New York talk show legend, Joe Franklin. The Joker himself is hiding from a cop who bears a remarkable resemblance to Detective Sipowicz from the 90s cop drama NYPD Blue. Adding to the list of the never-ending Big Apple references is the seminal crime the Joker commits. It is a mirror recreation of an actual 1984 subway shooting that rocked the city and spurred a furious debate about vigilantism vs. heroism.  In the Bernie Goetz incident four underclass African Americans were wounded by a white working class businessman. Joker turns the tables and targets three yuppie Wall Streeters. This overt act of terrorism against the rich certainly bears down on actual current events where the income divide is a central issue in Presidential politics.  Entertainment juggernauts are even more wary than mainstream corporations in their interest in being seen as taking sides. No doubt Warner Brothers took note of Phillips’ story choices. 

The Batman storyline is clear regarding the rich pedigree of its heroes. Batman’s father, Thomas Wayne, figures prominently in Joker. He is a wealthy businessman whose bid to be Gotham City’s mayor is rooted in demonizing the poor and restoring “order”. The Joker and his young son Bruce, the future caped crusader, face-off through the wrought iron gates of his mansion. Thomas, a caricature a self-entitled blue bloods, is detestable.

Unfortunately for the director, lionization of the Joker himself creates problems for the Batman franchise. The larger storyline clearly paints this character as an unredeemable villain. Warner Brothers stepped in and forced an ending to the film which clearly shows justice has been served; or at least evil has been contained. The previous scene, which I believe to be Phillips’ choice of the ending, neatly mirrors the opening sequence and fits into the triumphal arc of the storyline: the Joker has risen and is uncontainable. The “corporate” ending inoculates Warner Brothers from the accusation of glorifying a psychopathic killer. But their efforts didn’t stop there as the spin machine created a false public dialogue regarding the appropriateness of the Joker as a character. One suspects the hand of a publicity machine at work as It Chapter Two, a sequel in a slasher/horror film featuring a bloodthirsty clown, opened the month before with no debate about deranged funny men. The corporate flack diverted the public discourse to the tired hobby-horse of “violence in movies” rather than killing the rich. Obviously it isn’t the gore but the direction of the bloodlust that sparks concern for those in charge. Vengeance against the 1% is an untenable storyline for a Warner Brothers’ product. The concerns about the Batman brand and the companies reputation led to muddled choices, marring the director’s vision that go beyond the contradictory endings. Why is the vengeful mob carrying “resist” signs? Is the Joker a leader of a movement with legitimate grievances? Should he be free to be a rightful avenger? Or does that moniker link him too closely with Batman, the dark knight?

Phillips is clear that his Joker begins as a sympathetic bully betrayed by the system and his family. His initial moments of violence, although unjustified, are linked to betrayal or, in the case of the yuppie subway trio, chivalry morphing into self-defense. The director carefully omits gratuitous gore that would overtly turn the audience against the misguided clown. The fate of the “girlfriend” and her young child is never revealed. Unfortunately the empowerment of violence becomes an end in itself. Phillips never ventures into the realm of seeing the Joker aligning with others. This is a solitary figure without an agenda beyond feeling happy for the next 5 minutes. He feels genuine surprise that anyone thinks he matters. This is the stuff of lotto winners, not arch villains. It would be a leap of faith to believe the character in this film could successfully recruit others in any sort of organized endeavor, a trajectory clearly marked by established Batman history.  This is the portrait of a mascot, not a mastermind. 

The framework of this character was never built  for the weight of serious discourse. The studio’s lackluster artistic support didn’t help. Despite all this, Joker has glimmers of brilliance.  Unfortunately even its strongest attribute becomes an Achilles heal. There can be too much of a good thing. Phoenix is masterful, but how many times do we have to hear that unnatural, natural laugh? It is as if the director, overburdened by decisions about his hero, left the perplexing question of humor to hang over the audience. What is funny? How much does our fascination concern the gallows, rather than the gallows humor.  It is reported that many audience members attended Lenny Bruce performances to watch an arrest. Do we share in this dubious attribute when we read news stories for sickening carnage? Kudos to Phillips trying to make a larger statement of “what is happening is not funny”. He’s right. In the words of his hero: “She (the Joker’s  mother) told me I had a purpose to bring laughter and joy to the world”. This is spoken before the cringeworthy stand-up routines in which he violates the cardinal rule of comedy: he takes out a notebook and READS his jokes. This is the awkward voice of every disenfranchised mass shooter. The general unkindness of the world morphs into personal grievance. The solitary torture of these lonely souls knows no place of solace in our time since caring communities are the only known cure. Instead the offer on hand is a suggestion of compassion. The heartless underfunded bureaucracy of social workers bulldoze through “clients” as prominent members of society repeat bromides about self reliance and taking responsibility. This is a formula that turns meek clowns into mass killing cult leaders. In a world such as this the only cure is the coming of a caped crusader. Time to flash the bat-symbol in the sky. This goes beyond Gotham. The joke is on us. 

It Follows (2015)

It Follows (2015)

The Follower of the Pack

“Do you think the band is good?”

“Their hair is amazing” -  a conversation about a punk group in the 1970s

On rare occasions commercial movie distributors pick a project from the film festival circuit and give it a wide release. Last night in Montpelier Vermont,  “It Follows”, a low budget auteur inspired horror film, went head to head with mainstream fair such as “Cinderella” and “Furious 7”. A tip of the hat to David Robert Mitchell, the writer/director, for bursting out of obscure art house screenings or late night cable cult debuts. The film is a strange combination of “Scooby doo”-like child detectives facing off against a carefully designed super natural menace. No doubt Mr. Mitchell is a student of cinema as this work is an interesting combination of well heeled plot twists. A super demon (or demons) afflicts a solidly unspiritual bourgeois American household with a focus on the young ones (“The Exorcist”, “Poltergeist”, “The Amityville Horror”) . The ritual barrier is crossed and the unsolicited initiation spells trouble. (“The Ring”, “Blair Witch Project”, “Dracula”)   The auteur gives enough new polish to the set-pieces to make it an enjoyably spooky ride. Unfortunately it was neither clever enough to be innovative nor slick enough to be professionally polished.  In the end it was so bad, it was…. mildly interesting.

The premise turns the classic “Don’t Look Now” on its head. That wonderful 1970s tale focuses on a man chasing the ghost of his little girl. The protagonist is constantly on the hunt for the specter clad in the shiny red rain coat who maddeningly disappears in the maze of Venice Italy. In Mitchell’s work the setting is contemporary Detroit where trouble comes to you as a personalized shape shifting demon appearing on the horizon. The premise is clever albeit unoriginal.  The “biting of the apple” in “It Follows” relates heterosexual intercourse. A duped sex partner is afflicted with a zombie-like figure that SLOWLY stalks the new casualty. This is spelled out in pointed exposition after a new victim is consummated. The premise is carefully delineated. This walking dead spirit is only visible to people who have been violated. The monster, in addition to being invisible to the world at large, can take the shape of loved ones or strangers. The key thing is that it walks very very very slowly. Think of Frankenstein’s first steps or the ghouls from “Night of the Living Dead”. There are more rules: if the new victim is killed the monster will pursue the original prey and go back through the chain. Once again the malevolent ghost only appears as an individual, although it can take on numerous personas. 

Mitchell should be praised for having the creepiness supersede blood and guts. There are a few moments where limbs fly but the real scares come when these figures SLOWLY appear and stumble forward. This is “the hook” of this film. Those odd, sometimes naked, pale figures determined to get their prize. Adding to the “ tension” is the propensity of those afflicted teens to seek refuge in abandoned buildings or dark forests. Credulity is the eternal enemy of horror films and in this the victory must go to the skeptical audience member. It’s really not worth going into plot points but are we to believe that this group of besieged teenagers would choose a huge industrial building with a public pool to have the penultimate showdown? Did I mention it was a dark and stormy night. (complete with fog and lightning)

This is a low budget horror film firmly rooted in the conventions that were lampooned in “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”. The problem lies in tone. The over the top mood music begs the question. We can all hope that this was meant as hipster snark channeling Dr. Frank-N-Furter. Then there is the truly terrifying notion: Mitchell was serious. It is difficult to separate the flare from the scare. The strange ambiguity permeates the script. There are narrative moments that provoke genuine confusion. Did the protagonist spread the demon to the fisherman out on the party boat? Was the devil vanquished in the pool of blood? Nebulousness born of careful crafting is entertaining. Mystery rooted in unfulfilled exposition in previous drafts of the script is distracting . Why all the appliances by the pool? Given the fact that the spirit is impervious to bullets why not try to electrocute the beast? Was that the original plan? Does the ‘good’ boyfriend pass the spirit on to a streetwalking prostitute? What is the significance of returning to the place where the couple first kissed? This is a low budget horror movie by a callow director but, even with this low bar, “It Follows” doesn’t follow. The actions of the characters are drawn to heighten tension rather than escape horror. The unfortunate script flaws combined with nonsensical plot points forced the feeling of stupidity rather than terror. Not a single parent stepping in to ask a few questions about petrified teenagers fleeing full throttle in vehicles or on foot. They end up as gruesome mutilated corpses. Even the most disengaged real life father might muster up a “so…. I couldn’t help noticing a couple of your friends have been murdered after being tortured and raped. You’re also barricaded in your room biting your nails under the bed when you’re not running down the street in your underwear looking over your shoulder and crying. Just checking in”.  The adults in this film are akin to the muffled sounds in the old “Peanuts” cartoons. All this absurdity is fine but Mr. Mitchell wasn’t talented enough to patch the flaws. One doesn’t worry about the story holes in “A Nightmare on Elm Street”, but then again Wes Craven is a more nuanced writer/director. The adjective ‘nuanced’ is not one usually associated with Craven which might reveal the depth of Mr. Mitchell’s shortcomings as an auteur.  It was also lazy of Mitchell not to include at least a snippet of exposition regarding the initial birth of the evil spirit. There was certainly enough tedious dialogue regarding the framework of the haunting. Why not a line or two… this began with a girl who was lonely or a boy who was troubled…. That might have given some clue to the incarnations of the demon. As it is the netherworld appears to be channeling passengers from a Greyhound bus in various stages of undress. 

Mitchell is obviously shrewd enough to safeguard the golden egg. The goose does not die. The somewhat appealing group of teenagers remain, mostly, intact. There is the appropriate comedic ending of the ‘true’ love being reunited with his damsel in distress. As they walk down David Lynch’s suburban gothic dream there is someone behind them. Does anyone else see him? Stay tuned for “Following it Follows”.  A warning for Mr. Mitchell. Reflect of those young campers in the woods from the Blair Witch Project. This paradigm indie horror film was made for a little over half a million dollars and grossed $248 million. The sequel, “Shadows:Blair Witch 2”, costs $15 million and made $47 million. The franchise died. Nothing automatically follows. Fire the music director. Be more focused on the script. Don’t let the climax blind you into thinking all is safe. That is the mistake your teenage troupe made in your film. Following these bits of advice is a maximum that should be placed on a large sign in the production office: ADULT SUPERVISION REQUIRED.