Five years ago, a film was released that sparked a conversation. Across the nation, viewers everywhere thought that it was either a masterpiece that changed the game for comic book cinema or a redundant character study that will cause mass shootings.
While silly in retrospect, there was a genuine fear of what “Joker” would entail. The reactions to this film, both the good and the bad, have become a defining trait to a film that was only supposed to be about mental health. These responses clearly influenced director Todd Phillips.
“Joker: Folie à Deux,” while being a continuation of where the events of the first movie left off, is also a course-correction of what Phillips and co-writer Scott Silver want people to take away from the titular character. Now stuck in Arkham Asylum, Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) gets ready for his trial for the murders he committed in “Joker” two years ago. Just when it seems like he’s lost any reason to live, he comes across fellow inmate/fan Lee (Lady Gaga), who he not only falls in love with, but also gives him a reason to sing.
Yes, that is true: “Joker: Folie à Deux” is a musical. A possible downside for fans, this choice is what gives the sequel an identity that feels more unique than the first film. Instead of coming off as a diet Scorsese film trying to hide its comic book origins, “Folie à Deux” is a psychological musical that has a hard time being in harmony with itself.
Arthur is given a chance to evolve as a character, an issue in the first film that caused everyone’s confusion with what it was all about. As he quickly advances his relationship with Lee, his confidence comes back in ways that range from necessary to self-destructive. Even though this is communicated well enough with Phoenix’s performance, Phillips can’t help getting in the way.
In between Arthur using and abusing his villainous mojo, he is also tortured and humiliated for it. But not in a way that advances the story or themes; it is instead Phillips making sure everyone knows how much he hates the character.
He shows spite for everything that made the first film as popular as it was. He depicts Joker’s followers as embittered psychos. He depicts the media that endlessly covers Arthur’s trial and the events of “Joker” as egotistical leeches that end up furthering his cause. One of the reasons why Lee became obsessed with Arthur was because of a made-for-TV movie about him.
This direction, while mean-spirited, is actually a welcome change. It invites introspection into not only Arthur but everything surrounding “Joker,” as if Phillips is interrogating the audience with what exactly made them like his creation.
The inclusion of the musical numbers — along with an “Looney Tunes”-style animated opening — work to bring out the emotional core and themes of the story, yet in trying to take “Joker” in the direction of psychological self-analysis, it fails to further it. By the end of the film, nothing changes.
Arthur doesn’t grow as a character. His experiences with the trial and Lee doesn’t change him as a person. Instead, they act as a new way to beat him down and have him stay as a mentally-ill sad sack. The musical numbers, while shot well and clearly made with effort, don’t say anything that wasn’t already established beforehand. Joker singing “The Joker” after Arthur realizes how pathetic he is doesn’t add anything. It’s just too on the nose.
Even the animated sequence, done by “Triplets of Belleville” director Sylvain Chomet, tries to communicate the duality between Arthur and the Joker, literally calling the opening short “Me and My Shadow.” However, the connection between this metaphor and how it’s used in the film, using this duality as a strategy by Arthur’s lawyer (Catherine Keener) in court, is extremely flimsy. “Me and My Shadow” portrays the idea of Joker being nothing more than a cartoon character, but who is supposed to be Joker and Arthur in the short confuses the metaphor, or even if it’s making fun of the idea of duality.
Phillips gets so caught up with trying to show that he can be artistic that he fails to create a cohesive narrative, ultimately making the same mistakes as he did in “Joker.” Arthur is still not a fully realized character. The supporting characters, even if played by great actors, like Gaga, become two-dimensional, and the themes are so vague and mishandled that they don’t leave anything to chew on.
Nothing is expanded upon in the sequel. Phillips’ hate for the Joker is made clear, especially in an ending so hateful that it is laughably bad in its shock value. He sacrifices telling an intriguing story for his spitefulness, leaving fans and haters of “Joker” with an empty follow-up.
It ends on the same note the first one left on: the viewer feeling bad for — but also terrified and hating and empowered by — Arthur, reinforcing that society sucks, more of Hildur Guðnadóttir’s overbearing score, and the ironic needle-drop of “That’s Life.”
No matter how hard Phillips wants to prove he’s changed in the past five years, he hasn’t. He still has trouble telling a complex human story without turning it into a underdeveloped morality tale, he still relies on violence and spectacle to hide substance and no matter how hard he wants to prove that he’s above making a comic book movie, he still creates a movie fitting the pulpy and over-the-top tone of comic books.
The ambition and self-reflection is admirable, but it’s not enough. It’s doubtful if “Folie à Deux” will have the same impact as “Joker.” There is still a chance that Phillips can improve in his skills in directing and writing, but this sequel may burn his credibility to the ground.
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