Joker: Folie à Deux is the sequel to Joker (2019), and you have to admire Todd Phillips for returning with a jukebox musical, co-starring Lady Gaga, and not giving fans what they expected – or wanted. (There were quite a few walkouts where I saw it.)
It feels like a film that hates its audience. And itself
But it’s not what anyone else wanted, either. It’s so inert and pointless that if staying the course isn’t the issue it’s only because staying awake is. I don’t blame Joaquin Phoenix; no one has worked harder at trying to sing since Pierce Brosnan in Mamma Mia!. He deserves some recognition for that – although whether acting as if you are in tune is enough to secure a second Oscar, I can’t say.
The first film was intended to be a standalone venture, but after it went on to make a billion at the box office and Phoenix won the Oscar for best actor, there was an inevitable change of heart. So here we are, back with a character who is a million miles from the television Joker of our childhoods. That Joker was played by Cesar Romero, who cackled riotously and did not go on violent killing sprees – but could turn water into jelly. (Oh, innocent times!)
This Joker (real name Arthur Fleck) is bleak, dark and nihilistic. A failed clown, he is angry, lonely, disenfranchised, desperate for attention and driven to commit terrible acts. He is a combination of Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver and Rupert Pupkin from The King of Comedy. And now Phillips has run out of Scorsese films to rip off he doesn’t seem to know where to go.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in