Joker (2019)

Score: 5 / 5

Forget Brightburn. Joker is the comic book horror movie of the year. It's also one of the most daring, haunting, and unforgettable cinematic features of 2019.

We're quickly pulled into the world of one Arthur Fleck, an earnest but rather bad party clown who lives with his mother in Gotham City. Facing poverty, abuse, and crime slowly breaks Arthur, whose apparent mental illnesses are exacerbated as he tries to care for his ailing mother and make himself a star. When he finally defends himself by killing two thugs -- and executing a third in a chilling scene -- he becomes a pseudo-vigilante in the crime-ridden, deeply divided city. Having (perhaps unwittingly) started a social rebellion, he continues his ascent to infamy, especially losing it when he discovers that his father is Thomas Wayne. At least, so Arthur's possibly insane mother says. But when you have so little and the world still shits on you, you take what you're given and you run with it.

Disturbed yet? You should be. Joker is essentially asking us to understand how domestic terrorism happens, and to do so by shoving our own complicity in our faces. This movie is ugly. Ugly in its portrayal of evil: prevalent, pitiful, and terrifying. Ugly in the way it considers mental illness: Arthur's only explicit condition is a tendency to laugh when least appropriate, but there are clearly more serious problems here. Ugly in its lack of totally sympathetic characters: Arthur is arguably the one we're supposed to identify with, and therein lies the horrific nature of the film. Ugly in its depiction of Gotham's unjust class divisions: but wait, that hits a little too close to home.

This Gotham is America. Just as Us sought to blast open US cultural wounds with dynamite, Joker slyly unmasks the hideous face beneath the veneer of our sociopolitical culture under Trump. Wayne seems to be a benevolent guy, but is his money really going toward projects that will help the disenfranchised of Gotham? We never really know on any big scale, but we can see nothing is helping Arthur or his mother. And that so many people are so quick to praise, support, and even emulate the "killer clown" (who pointedly killed the Wayne Enterprises businessmen first) even to the point of setting Gotham on fire suggests Arthur is less unique than we at first supposed.

Sure, we can argue that sympathizing with a terrorist is a dangerous move for a film to make, especially in the current climate. But what is art if not challenging and disturbing? Moreover, while the film perhaps does a disservice to the mentally ill or to the poor, isn't the film far more critical of those who treat Arthur and his ilk with disdain, contempt, and violence? And frankly, the ugliness of Joker helps make it one of the most beautiful movies of the year for me. Joaquin Phoenix's performance is unbelievably daring, the cinematography (Lawrence Sher of Godzilla: King of the Monsters) is suggestive and precise, the score (Hildur Gudnadottir of Mary Magdalene and Chernobyl) is one of my favorites yet this year.

In fact, Joker has become one of my favorites of 2019. It's the kind of movie you cannot watch without needing to reflect and discuss afterward. You can spend time dissecting fanbase concerns about an iconic character's origin story, and you can needle your way into hyperspecific critiques of certain scenes (like how soft-spoken, often noncommunicative Arthur, on live television, is able to suddenly deliver a scathing manifesto about his newfound place in Gotham and the order of the world as he sees it). But the sheer mysterious power of this film is undeniable. Whether you're interested in the cinematic homage to other films, the social commentary, the psychological issues, or the aesthetics involved, you won't really be able to reach a consensus with anyone. And that's what great cinema is all about.