JOKER

Directed by Todd Phillips / ★★★ / 2019
Watched — 02 Oct, 2019

In a stygian city where pain begets more pain, the citizens of Gotham can only laugh about life. Or they become clowns so that other people outside of their realm of contacts can haha about life. They are a reflection of a society on the periphery of survival, detaching themselves from suppressed rage using comedy as a camouflage.

Meanwhile, the well-to-dos are snobbish creatures with attitude problems and very little manners. Even Wayne Senior lacks decorum, despite his bespoke suit and silver tongue. Elsewhere, on the streets infected by super-rats (an unintentional anagram for superstar) we see more afflictions where lives spark zero zeal, except for Arthur Flecks’ laughter, which is contagious to a fault, lying midway between dysphoria and ecstasy.

In one scene, Fleck dances Zen-like in a dim-lit toilet, accompanied by a crying cello, as if shooting for an erratic Ermenegildo Zegna TV commercial. Its one of the defining moments that showcased the physical channeling of someone on the edge of sanity, and the one moving frame that sticks in my mind like a grease-based face paint which remains intact long after the punchlines have been revealed. The dynamism of that scene is governed by the chemical reaction between Joaquin Phoenix’s powerful histronics and the poetic soundscapes.

Amongst other players, only Zazie Beetz’ character seems undeterred by the bleak environs, though later it becomes clear that she was written as a subpar subplot, where the film makers tried to throw us hard onto plot twist terrains. It was by no means disagreeable, but beyond what we were made to believe, the emotional arc is skeletal at best.

In retrospect, JOKER is a mix-bag of grit and grim, and some saving grace. Its an origin story that strays from the comic book adaptation nomenclature – one that is entertaining and exasperating in uneven measures. Yet the film demands immediate viewing, if only for us to witness the transgressions of Phoenix, with all his twisted torsos and protruding bones, from a manic humorist to a murderous contortionist. He deserves a standing ovation, and an Oscar.

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