Joker

What do you get when you mix Taxi Driver, The King of Comedy, and some clown makeup? Joker, the latest blockbuster featuring a well-known comic book character. Directed by Todd Phillips, and starring Joaquin Phoenix in a career-topping performance, Joker is not as deeply felt as either of those Scorsese films, and looks better than it plays, as it relies too much on the idiot plot. (Incidentally, I read that Scorsese was initially set to produce this film, which makes his remarks about comic book films not being "cinema" a little disingenuous).

The "Idiot Plot" was coined by Roger Ebert, defined as a plot that is carried forward by characters behaving like idiots, i.e., not calling the police. In Joker, it mostly has to do with an appalling lack of security and/or common sense by characters (mild spoilers). A mayoral candidate, in the middle of a riot, takes his wife and kid to the movies and sneaks out in an alley without a bodyguard; this same man, a very rich man, puts his son's playhouse right near the front gate of his mansion; a young single mother living in a crime-ridden neighborhood leaves her front door unlocked; a psychiatrist at a mental hospital interviews a criminally insane convict with no protection; a person is killed in another hospital without any lack of vital signs making machines beep; a character goes on a live talk show but when he starts acting dangerously is not immediately hustled off by security. All of these are distractions from what otherwise is a gorgeously grimy movie about the origins of a master criminal.

Phoenix plays Arthur Fleck, a party clown and aspiring comedian. He has a neurological condition that makes him laugh uncontrollably at inappropriate moments (this is a real thing). Like the old adage about a clown who cries on the inside, Phoenix states that he has never been happy a day in his life. He lives with his mother, whom he dotes on (even giving her a bath) and enjoys watching a late-night talk show, hosted by Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro, and I have to think that the name is a nod to Joe Franklin, the longtime host in New York City). Things start to spiral downward for Phoenix is savagely beaten, is fired from his job and De Niro embarrasses him on national television.

What's good about Joker is the immaculate production design. Gotham City has always been a stand-in for New York City (the word Gotham came from Washington Irving as a send up for New York) and this film depicts New York as it was in the seventies and eighties. A garbage strike is on, with giant-size rats darting about everywhere, and some of the big scandals from the era, such as Bernhard Goetz and Hedda Nussbaum (Google them) are indicated. The photography by Lawrence Sher is wonderfully lurid.

But I found the film really doesn't have anything to say. It tries to take mental illness seriously, perhaps making Phoenix sympathetic, but as the film goes on he commits savage murders that test that emotion. Also, the film telegraphs every major plot point that comes along, such as when Phoenix grabs a pair of scissors before letting a person in (a character we knew he was going to kill long before), or the climax of the film, which anyone with a brain knew was coming (although it still is a very jarring moment).

The film also includes a moment from the Batman mythos that we have seen many times before. Joker is supposed to be a one-shot, and is not supposed to be part of the D.C. universe, but if so, why include this scene, which seems to be a set up for a sequel? If Joker is not connected to the D.C. universe, why have Thomas Wayne as a character? (At least we don't see Commissioner Gordon).

I was speaking to a friend of mine about the film who used the song title from A Chorus Line to summarize it, "Looks 10, Dance 3." Joker is mostly sizzle with no steak, but it can be enjoyed for Phoenix's performance and a reminder of New York City's sleazy past.