Joker: Folie a Deux (2024)

Score: 3 / 5

Polarizing to some as it may have been, Joker was a breath of fresh air in the stale, stagnant chamber of superhero films. Approaching one of the most iconic villains in comic book history from an intimate psychological perspective, it shifted the lore to suit its character drama, a gamble that paid off magnificently. Paired with its dank, oppressive mise-en-scene, the film unflinchingly faced its realistic horrors and forced us to do the same, effectively making this viewer, at least, feel both complicit and implicated in its depravity. "Dark" and "edgy" don't really come close to what writer/director Todd Philips was doing with the material or with us.

So when a sequel -- from the same creative team -- was announced, I was thrilled. Ushering in Lady Gaga as Joker's paramour was an act of pure genius, if a risky one, as few other actresses working today can carry off the bizarre mix of sensuality, bravado, and unhinged personality that is Gaga's brand. And whenever Gaga and Joaquin Phoenix are on screen, this film delivers on its promises in spades. They play intriguingly off each other, each looking pretty miserable until they suddenly, fabulously, don't; they mine their characters for organic embodiment and uncanny movement work that had me gasping for air. And then, like in Chicago or Cabaret, they break into song.

Some will call this film a musical, but that's not strictly accurate. If anything, it's a jukebox musical, but even that suggests either full musical numbers or music informing/mobilizing the plot. The musical scenes in Joker: Folie a Deux do neither of these things, instead using specific (and usually repeated) musical motifs to showcase not the mental fantasies of its characters but rather their perverse fixations on certain words and ideas that manifest in glamorous, ego-feeding spotlight moments. It's not about them escaping into a nostalgic world (a la La La Land) or working to create their delusional paradise (think Sweeney Todd or even moments of American Horror Story); it's about them dwelling in their own selfish desires and expressing themselves through pirated emotions.

That said -- and truly, I did thoroughly enjoy watching this film -- as a sequel, I was disappointed. I'd have liked less time in Arkham or at least more interesting things for Brendan Gleeson and Catherine Keener to do. I'd have liked a bit more of, well, something: more fully realized musical numbers to indicate the insanity at work in Arthur Fleck and Lee Quinzel or the chance for them to build their criminal résumés together out in Gotham proper. Instead, we're forced into comparatively dull doldrums as Arthur makes a firm distinction between himself and his "Joker" persona and most of his interesting and heartbreaking reality of civilian life is ignored in favor of heavyhanded sequences of his institutional abuse. The closest the film comes to caring about his internal reality is in suggesting -- through classic big band music and some dialogue -- that Arthur is still within a television show of sorts, which surely locked his brain in place at the climactic moment of the first film. And then there's the utterly wasted potential of Harley here, as Gaga is never allowed to go full-blown crazy.

Thankfully, their romance is flipped a bit. Notorious for its questionable abuse and even consent in previous media, here Lee and Arthur develop an earned camaraderie, even though we eventually learn that Lee is the controlling, demanding party in their relationship. Then comes the trial, which is so laughably absurd in its conception and execution, cinematically, that I was actually wishing the film would end soon. Spoiler: it doesn't. Unlike the riveting climax of the first film, here things stretch on through sillier and sillier twists until a false deus ex machina offers hope for transcendence before putting us (and Arthur) literally back where we started.

Performances rarely make a film worth watching, but this is the exception to that rule. Phoenix and Gaga are incredible. I just wish Philips (or, rather, someone else) gave them better material to work with and a more coherent project to bring to life.