Why 'Joker' deserves your love
Photo: Niko Tavernise - Warner Bros.
Hello! I hope, whoever and wherever you are, you’re having a most beautiful day. I wanted to start by saying yes, I am most certainly on the side of “Joker is a masterpiece.” I’ve seen it three times now, the most recent time just in the last couple of days, but the first time, in the cinemas, it took me roughly a week to come to my conclusion – which I’ve found, for everyone I’ve talked to, has been the same deal, taking time to let the thoughts stew until like, “interesting”, or dislike is formed. The first time, I cried watching it. I knew only one thing, regardless of my feelings about Joker (an 11-time Oscar nominee and 2-time winner) and that’s it’s perhaps the saddest film I’ve ever watched.
I remember hearing laughter at specific points throughout that time, be it the scene in the children’s hospital or even when Arthur slammed into an exit door, yet I couldn’t bring myself to smile. I was watching this horrific tragedy unfold and I couldn’t look away. I was transfixed by so many of its elements – its story, the score, the cinematography, and need I add to the overall acceptance that yes, Joaquin Phoenix was a chameleon in this film. His ability to take such a damaged character, to take his medical laughter condition and his overall arc (not to forget all the dancing!) was a thing of beauty, a masterpiece within a masterpiece.
And yes, many don’t like this film. That many say it’s too violent, that it glorifies it all. Well, yes, it’s an incredibly intense film. I wouldn’t go as far as to say it glorifies it, per se, but instead allows it to help paint a dark and riotous picture. The setting is one already running at 99% intensity, waiting for that extra 1% to light everything on fire. Arthur Fleck, in a moment of anger, without any intention beyond fighting against the cruelty before him, becomes that one. He becomes the fire the angry people have been waiting for. Violence is not, in the case of Joker, idolised, but merely a critical colour in this portrait; the shades of red and black draw us in, dare us to stare, and for many, the image simply becomes too ugly.
But it’s also true that this Joker is one quite unlike any we’ve seen before. I would argue that this may well be part of the reason some find it so unappealing. That being said, this Joker was inevitable. Allow me to explain. A Vanity Fair article by Joanna Robinson late last year encapsulated it pretty well. Every Joker we’ve had presented on-screen has been a reflection of the time in which that adaptation has come out Cesar Romero’s Joker was fun and campy. Jack Nicholson’s was more on the crazy, yet still fun, side. Heath Ledger’s was an embodiment of chaos, a la the times in which ‘The Dark Knight’ emerged, and Jared Leto’s was… well… an experience. Then again, I don’t really have words for 2016 as a whole, either, so that seems true enough.
Fast forward to now, only three years after Leto, and for me, someone who has dealt with mental health battles of my own for the last four, going on five years, seeing someone in so much pain and darkness go without the help he so clearly needs? It hit hard. Granted, I’ve been incredibly fortunate in that I’ve had such an amazing support system through my family, my friends, and medical professionals during this time. Also granted, my issues are not nearly on his level. Even so, I felt such anger and sorrow for a world that didn’t care about mental illness, that it wasn’t real, that it was just something you “get over”. This Joker is the product of a toxic society, one which we ourselves are facing in almost every direction. For the younger generations, for those being confronted with such anger and violence and ignorance, this Joker couldn’t make more sense. So many stories take a “what if”, or a type of figure or scenario, and they dial it up to 11. The film sees someone with mental health problems not being helped and suffering as a result, and it dials it up.
Photo: Warner Bros.
There aren’t nearly enough movies that confront mental illness for all it is, without lowering any curtains or censoring a single word or thought. In mainstream western films, this is territory that is hardly covered at all. Movies that do are promptly blacklisted, “It’s too obscene, too brash, too harsh!”
And they completely miss the point. Yeah. It’s brutal. Joker is a brutal movie. It’s easily my favourite tragedy. I mean, sure, we had to watch Bruce’s parents die again, but this film is intended to open eyes. It’s designed to have the curtains all the way back and say, “Look! This is what we’re living in! This is what we could face if we’re not careful, if we don’t do something!” Though the stigma and treatment of mental health have come so very far in being handled better, the reality is, there’s still a long way to go. Films like Joker are essential to highlight an extreme case of “if you leave this be, if you ignore it, if you pretend it’s not real, this is what you’ll get.” Joker is brutal, tragic, and yet, undeniably beautiful. Mind you, Arthur is in no way a hero, and he’s not meant to be seen as one. Arthur Fleck is a warning scenario turned up to 11, where society becomes one with him and he becomes one with society. He goes from a person who, in his eyes, doesn’t feel real, to someone who embodies riots and revolution absolutely and is finally seen.
His final joke in the film honestly sums up the point of this film better than I ever could. “What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a society that abandons him and treats him like trash? You get what you f*cking deserve!”
To summarise, Joker is a tragedy, a painting of extreme violence, ignorance, mental illness stigma, and cruelty all leading to one riotous and bloody end, in which Joker walks away, head held high, bloody shoes trailing on bright white tiles.
Thank you for reading — I post on Fridays! And again, please do have a great day.
— Charis.
