NO LAUGHING MATTER

MOVIE
Joker
Joaquin Phoenix, Robert De Niro
Director Todd Phillips
Review Ray Chan

WHILE the focus of this movie is on a jokester, it is in essence one of the most depressing of the year.
    The writer who brings us this masquerade, Todd Phillips, uses the fact that little is known of the iconic Batman villain’s origins to fashion a grim and compelling story about the making of a monster - one in which, much like the clown’s own garish make-up, a mask of angst, anxiety and a liberal dose of ambiguity covers the narrative.
    The central character is Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix), a struggling comedian beset by some inner demons and a Tourette’s-level compulsion to laugh at random moments, and who lives with his infirm mother Penny (Frances Conroy) in a Gotham City wracked by crime, class warfare and increasing dissatisfaction with the law: in short, pretty much the same sort of desolate metropolis that has been shown over the decades in the theatres and comic books.
    During the day, Arthur ekes out a living as a rent-a-clown at an agency where one of his peers loans him a handgun for protection.
    When he is assaulted by a group of drunk men on the subway, the firearm is employed in defence, empowering him and enabling his dark alter ego to emerge.
    The rage behind the epiphanous moment is fuelled as misfortune upon misfortune falls upon him through no fault of his own, including discovering that he may be the illegitimate, abandoned son of wealthy businessman Thomas Wayne (who, of course, is father of Bruce, AKA Batman himself); a possibility denounced by the tycoon, who claims Penny was deranged.
    The metamorphosis into madman is complete after Arthur is invited onto late night TV host Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro)’s show as a guest, during which he liberates his pent-up frustrations of the system to full effect, making him a champion of protesting and angry disenfrachised communities.
    Confusingly, many of the revelations in the film are initially shown to be the product of Arthur’s delusion, but then later details suggest he may not have been making them all up after all.
    Arthur strikes up an apparent relationship with his neighbour Sophie (Zazie Beetz), but viewers are eventually shown each scene she’s been in with her presence removed, indicating that they were all imaginary.
    Sophie’s final fate also remains unclear. After Arthur breaks into her apartment and confronts her, what happens next, again, is open to interpretation, as the line between fact and fancy continues to be obfuscated.
    Similarly, when Arthur is told that Penny was herself mentally unsound, we see her young version being interrogated in Arkham Asylum, where she is accused of neglecting her adopted son.
    And yet, as if to tease the viewers, Phillips shows Arthur looking at an old photo of Penny that’s been signed affectionately by one “TW”, leaving the door open for the tantalising possibility that the Bat and his arch-nemesis are indeed half-brothers.
    By leaving so many questions unanswered, Joker undermines its own chance at making a statement.
    In a movie about less fortunate people being ignored by society, surely it would have been more poignant to reveal with certainty that its impoverished main character was a billionaire’s son.
    The film doesn’t gain anything by leaving this possibility, or Sophie’s destiny, unclarified. And indeed, there is the same element of doubt over the closing scenes before the fade to black.
    That exchange between hitting the audience over the head and withdrawing completely doesn’t provide any sense of enrichment, but instead opens up too many loose ends, neglecting to bring them all to a conclusion.
    Indeed, could it all have just been a dream, mirroring the vague climax of, perhaps intentionally, De Niro's Taxi Driver, upon which Phillips had based his screenplay?
    We can’t leave the review without mentioning Phoenix, of course.
    It’s no exaggeration to claim this as a career-defining performance, by one of the best character actors of his generation.
    The actor never flinches, as he brings Arthur to life via contortions and convulsions in a nuanced dance that flits through humanity to a state of virtuoso insanity.
    As mentioned at the start, this is not a feel-good cinematic experience. But any discomfort or objections to the film may be tempered by the uncomfortable realisation, that most people, under provocation, are capable of some pretty terrible things.


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