Joker: Folie à Deux (Christian Movie Review)
While not without high notes, including several provocative themes and another compelling performance from Joaquin Phoenix, Joker: Folie à Deux struggles to compose a satisfying melody.
About the Film
Joker (2019) was a controversial film that offered a disturbingly raw origin story for Batman’s iconic arch nemesis. While much of the pre-release trepidation proved to be overblown (the film did not inspire legions of viewers to put on clown makeup and commit violent crimes), the film became a cultural moment, and its socially conscious themes were a catalyst for widespread discussion and debate. Unfortunately, the long-awaited sequel suggests that the conversation has grown stale. The bold decision to present Joker: Folie à Deux as a musical is commendable, but the film is unable to recapture the same lightning in a bottle as its predecessor. While not without high notes, including several provocative themes and another compelling performance from Joaquin Phoenix, Joker: Folie à Deux struggles to compose a satisfying melody.
As with the first film, Joker: Folie à Deux is an admittedly difficult film to evaluate on a single viewing (although its unrelentingly grim tone may not invite many rewatches). The movie works better as a “thought piece” rather than as a cinematic story. It explores several intriguing themes, but it struggles to do so in interesting ways. With it’s bleak, nihilistic worldview, the first Joker was hardly a “fun” film, yet it was captivating. Folie à Deux is equally grim, but it lacks the energy to make the unabating darkness more tolerable.
Joaquin Phoenix’s performance, while enthralling at times, lacks the can’t-look-away magnetism that earned him a well-deserved Academy Award for his role in the first film. One reason is familiarity (we’ve seen this act before). It is also a byproduct of a story that frequently sidelines him. He is silent and reclusive during the first part of the film. By the middle, he is a passive participant in the story that is unfolding around him. Only in the third act—when he finally embraces the “Joker” persona—does the original spark reemerge. Joining him is Lady Gaga, who makes her debut as Harley Quinn. She does well with what she is given, although her character remains undeveloped and largely relegated to the fringe of the story (other than in a few musical numbers).
If Joker was a Batman film without Batman, then Folie à Deux is largely a Joker film without the Joker. The first movie was an effective slow burn as Arthur Fleck—a mentally unwell man—was pushed closer and closer to the edge before finally snapping and becoming a psychotic villain. Rather than building on that film’s momentum and final payoff, Folie à Deux strips the story back down to its foundation and starts from the beginning. Despite some stark outward differences (namely, the musical component), the sequel essentially follows the same template as the first. Fleck is once again a disturbed man on a slow descent toward embracing the Joker persona. The prison setting of the sequel also strips the familiar “ticking time bomb” narrative of the sense of danger that made the first film so gripping.
The decision to make the film a musical is sure to be divisive, but the integration of the musical elements into the gritty drama is surprisingly organic. Fear not, this is not “High School Musical: Joker Edition.” Fleck attends a singing therapy group while in prison, and music becomes a vehicle through which he processes his thoughts and feelings. The musical aspect is more effective thematically than cinematically. The music successfully communicates Fleck’s mental state, but the songs themselves are a slog. Lady Gaga is obviously a capable singer, and Phoenix is surprisingly competent (at least for his character). But as only the two characters sing, the songs quickly become repetitive. The musical numbers that take place in Fleck’s head allow for more elaborate set pieces, but they lack the spectacle typical of many musicals. Personally, I found myself disengaging from the story whenever another song arrived. They may offer a creative glimpse into Fleck’s mind, but they also kill the film’s narrative momentum.
Overall, Joker: Folie à Deux is a tricky film to grasp. Several isolated moments work well, its willingness to explore uncomfortable concepts and themes (see below) lends it a depth rarely found in comic book movies, and the unexpected musical framework gives the illusion of a fresh, trailblazing sequel. But the film too often chooses to retread familiar paths.
For Consideration
Language: There is heavy profanity throughout, including frequent use of the F-word.
Violence: During a dreamlike musical fantasy, a character is shot in the head (blood briefly sprays out the side before the scene cuts). During another fantasy, a character repeatedly smashes another man in the head with a blunt object. A man is stabbed in the stomach, leaving his shirt bloody. In an animated sequence, a cartoon character is beaten up and left in a puddle of blood.
Sexuality: There is one brief sex scene in which two characters (both clothed) thrust against each other (the scene is depicted in an intentionally awkward manner rather than an overtly sensual one). A woman is shown wearing a bra, and two men share a quick kiss on the lips (it is strongly implied that one of them is gay).
Other: There are frequent portrayals of characters taking medication and smoking. A prison guard makes a joke with a catholic priest as its punchline.
Engage The Film
Reality and Fantasy
The movie begins with an animated short called “The Joker and His Shadow.” Initially, it seems like merely a playful Pixar-inspired opening, but it serves an important thematic function. Much of the film’s tension has to do with the question of whether Arthur Fleck and the Joker are the same person or if the Joker persona is a disturbed, trauma-induced fantasy that acts in opposition to Fleck’s gentler nature. At least, that’s the argument Fleck’s lawyers make in their attempt to prevent their client from receiving a death sentence.
Fleck himself wrestles with the question. Speaking to the jury, he tells an incomplete joke: “Knock, knock. Who’s there? Arthur Fleck. Arthur Fleck who…?” Without a punch line, the joke represents Fleck’s confused search for identity. The film doesn’t give easy answers. In one sense, Fleck is clearly a disturbed individual who is prone to psychotic fantasies. In another sense, his fantasies offer an escape from confronting the truth or consequences of his actions. Eventually, he confesses that “there is no Joker,” seemingly accepting responsibility for his heinous deeds. It wasn’t the shadow that sinned; the shadow and the man are one.
From a Christian perspective, the theme is poignant. Our sinful nature is not a mere shadow; it is the result of the total depravity of our souls. The film provides a starkly honest and uncomfortable reminder that all have sinned, and nobody can do good outside of God (Mark 10:18). Joker: Folie à Deux doesn’t provide much hope, but it effectively reminds us of our need for it.
Fickle Crowds Using People
Throughout the film, the prison inmates watch classic Loony Toons episodes of Pepé le Pew, the love-sick skunk whose affections are continually unreciprocated. The cartoon serves as an apt metaphor for Folie à Deux’s theme of chasing after elusive love. Arthur Fleck is a sort of Frankenstein’s monster; he yearns for love from a world that looks at him only in disgust. Yet his budding romance with Harley Quinn could seemingly offer the change he needs. When asked during a TV interview what is different about him since the violent events of the first film, he responds, “I’m not alone anymore.” Likewise, as large crowds gather outside the courthouse, many with faces painted in clown makeup, Fleck seems to have finally found the love, acceptance, and belonging he craves.
The tragedy of the film is the slow realization that people don’t truly love Arthur Fleck; they love Joker. They accept him as an icon, but not as a person. The moment Fleck begins to lose his conviction about his identity as the Joker, the crowds that once revered him soon abandon him. In a meta-sense, even audience frustration about the film’s stubborn refusal to give them actual Joker action is an extension of the theme (“Less human drama, more carnal, villainous spectacle!)
It’s easy to draw parallels to the real world, particularly to politicians who adopt personas merely to satisfy the projected fantasies of their potential voters. It is also evident in “cancel culture,” when mobs quickly turn on those who stray from the approved script.
Humans are created to be loved, yet we are fundamentally selfish, fickle creatures. Seeking to satisfy our innate longing for love through human relationships will inevitably result in frustration and brokenness. But we can take heart that God promises, “I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5).
