Joker’s Wild: Reconsidering My Criticism of Joker
Occasionally, because I am a big fat sillyhead, I like to write about movies or shows that haven’t come out yet. I take this gamble for a variety of good and well-thought-out reasons, but my primary motivation is because I think the premise of the movie is a good vehicle to talk about something I wanted to talk about anyway. Sometimes this pays off, like in the case of Veronica Mars Season 4, which I wrote about without seeing and then hated.
Other times, not so much, like when I dismissed Once Upon a Time in Hollywood as being Boomer Porn when it turned out that was a pretty awesome movie that was about something real. It was a great piece making a much-needed point and I am proud of it, but it turned out that my premise didn’t actually apply to the movie I was criticizing.
Well, this weekend I finally got the chance to watch Joker, another movie I wrote about without having seen. I wrote about Joker because I am sick of retrofitted backstories for already existing characters; because I think our desire for an easy explanation as to why bad people turn bad is incredibly toxic to our culture and even makes us see redemption as something that is impossible to attain. My piece was, IMVVVHO, both excellent and necessary, but just like with Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, it came to pass that my criticism did not happen to apply to the movie in question. Joker is outstanding, insightful, and while I need to sit on it a couple days and re-watch it before I declare this as fact, may very well be one of the most important movies of the 21st century.
As I watched Joker, I realized, it’s not so much that I hate a backstory, but I hate a badly done, perfunctory backstory with simple answers to complicated questions. I especially hate it when human nature is boiled down to a person who has some switch in their heads flipped by one defining moment and free will is removed from the equation – which is typically the stock and trade of backstory movies. But that is not what Joker does. Arthur Fleck wasn’t a good and noble person one minute and then something happened entirely outside of his control and he turned evil. Arthur Fleck was, as all of us are, a person with the potential for violence written right into his DNA, a flawed and fallible person who had experienced a lifetime of abuse. Then, after some deliberation, he made a choice. It doesn’t happen suddenly out of the blue – you can even see him try on the choice for size before he makes it. You can see him allow himself to accidentally fall into the decision the first time (as many of us do when we decide to do the wrong thing – allowing us to later declare “it just happened” and mean it), and then become more deliberate, more intentional with every moment that passes.
Arthur Fleck is not a spinning top, out of control and careening off things wildly, his direction determined by the fates. He is a man who decides, welp, this sucks, and I’m not going to bother with the rules any more, because so far they haven’t worked out for me. The character arc of Arthur Fleck mirrors the journey I think lead many into a life of crime – they tried doing it the world’s way and got nowhere fast, and then they decide that maybe it’s time to put their own interests aside of everyone else’s.
I wrote:
I still think denying free will is a plague not only on fictional endeavors but on humanity as a whole, and yet I must acknowledge that writer/director Todd Phillips and cowriter Scott Silver managed to avoid the pitfall completely. While there is a moment that happens that in essence, flips the switch, the groundwork for Arthur’s transformation was laid well in advance, before the movie ever begins. Watching Joker is like looking at a Japanese painting, the kind that features just a tree branch or a piece of a trunk…you know the rest of the scene happened outside of the frame and your mind fills in the gaps. It makes for a big world drawn by such a small movie – an intimate movie centered around one character, so much less grand in scope than any other comic book story. Yet the tale it weaves is vaster than most spectacular blockbuster, a tale made all the more gripping by the fact that we’re currently living it.
Perhaps our present reality is why so much criticism has been levied against Joker. Some have said that the movie glorifies the antihero, creates another Walter White or Vic Mackey or Tony Montana/Soprano for odious men who think they deserve power and respect that they have not earned, to idolize. But this is a completely disingenuous argument. Unlike most movies featuring anti-heroes, Arthur Fleck isn’t cool. He’s repellent. He isn’t noble, he’s a creep, and he’s a creep right from the start. He isn’t a noble and misunderstood genius, he’s a man on the fringes of society for a reason and the reason is that he is actively antisocial. We can have some understanding and even empathy for the reasons why that is, but no one would want that clown at their children’s birthday party.
Far, far too many writers have created an anti-hero and then made them smarter than everyone, kinder than everyone, more talented than everyone, wiser than everyone, and then given them a cool porkpie hat or a leather jacket and a shaved head to hammer the point home that hey, this guy is only evil in the service of greatness. This guy, now this guy, we are told, his evil is excusable because he’s a very special person to whom the rules don’t apply. That is why these characters appeal to those who also see themselves as special people who should be granted immunity from society’s rules. It was incredibly refreshing to me to see a movie brave enough to point out that a whole lot of people who go bad aren’t great, aren’t noble, aren’t talented. They are mediocre people who don’t follow the rules because they can’t follow the rules; they have failed at the rules so often and so greatly so they decide to dispense with the rules all together. Hollywood has given us movie after movie about strange freaks who are secret savants and it felt incredibly honest to finally, finally have the truth acknowledged – sometimes a strange freak is just a strange freak.
One of the things I love to do is to seek out the patterns in the chaos, to listen for the rhythmic taps of meaning in the background noise. Some say I carry this too far at times, that I see pattern and meaning where none is intended. But I think there’s an undeniable message in Joker, and it’s a message that many of us who up till now have erred on the side of compassion are beginning to wake up to. Sometimes the Misunderstood Guy is in fact an Actual Bad Guy and must be treated as such, even if we can understand, to some extent, how he got where he is. It doesn’t matter how the sausage was made; toxic waste is still toxic and it’s still waste.
Arthur Fleck is intended to represent a whole class of individuals across the political spectrum who have convinced themselves that it’s better to tear it all down than to settle. They’ve lost the Game of Life so rather than continue to play they’re gonna flip over the board and then they’re gonna burn the house down too.
To a very great extent, we as a culture have created these men (because they are mostly men) just like Arthur Fleck’s abusive mother and a cruel and heartless society created him. We have created these men not by giving them too many achievement ribbons and praising them too freely, we have created these men by designing a world in which only the best of the best are seen as winners and everyone else is seen as losers who should probably kill themselves. We have created these men by designing a world in which accidents of birth and twists of fate are rewarded as “merit” and then “merit” is seen as the standard by which we judge all human value.
It is no surprise that the first people Arthur Fleck kills are rich a-holes. We the audience are given to understand that if only things had been a little different, Arthur would have been dressed in a suit and cruelly taunting women on the train, and one of the men he assaults would be sitting where he is. We understand that in a culture in which there are winners and losers, SOMEbody has to play the part of the loser. But too few understand the fundamental message of Joker: for those who don’t want to be a loser, but can’t win the game the normal way, there are other avenues available to them. They don’t have to continue to play the game and they don’t have to accept their position as the loser for other, luckier people to feel superior to.
If you can’t win by society’s rules, well, maybe you can win in some other arena, by wanton destruction and brutal crime, by becoming the most antisocial of them all.
In previous incarnations of the Joker story we are told that the Joker fell into a vat of acid that transformed him. And this Joker is really no different. The acid was not literal acid this time, it was the caustic chemistry of a culture in an advanced state of decay. Arthur Fleck fell into that witches’ brew and marinated for a good long while. He came out a changed man, but his change was not a passive act. Indeed, it was the first deliberate act of Arthur’s life.
Joker is a movie about transformations, not rapid and easy ones, but painfully slow transformations. Transformations that happen over the course of a lifetime, even across generations – the way real transformation happens in individuals and in a society. Even though the precise moment of change may happen with breathtaking speed, it is never without portents and underlying trends and precursor events that historians argue about centuries later. The Joker was created by the world that Thomas Wayne made, a world that tolerated gross inequality and called it a level playing field. He was created by a world who rewards those like Murray Franklin who mock and belittle others for Nielsen ratings and clicks, with fabulous rewards. He was created by a world which does those things, and yet that same world bestows fame and legendary status on those who are willing to do nothing more than pull the trigger.
To a man like Arthur Fleck, there are many paths to greatness, and he simply took the one available to him.
It’s a fascinating journey we are taken on, but more fascinating still is the spectre who dangles over the events, like some sort of winged creature hovering in midair, waiting to take a journey of his own.
What do the rest of us do with a walking barrel of toxic waste? We find men, brave men, strong men, to remove that toxic waste, to cleanse and purify society. And if we don’t find those men deliberately, if we do not choose them, sometimes they themselves take up that mantle, choosing to take matters into their own hands. In virtually all cases I would roll my eyes at an origin story in which Thomas Wayne creates The Joker and then The Joker creates Batman. But Joker is not this story. It is a parable – not a story about men but about how the choices of some – even an entire generation who of course also simply inherited a terrible world and did the best they could – can work to create a climate in which another group of people makes a different set of choices, choice that may be just as bad if not even worse.
The sins of the father really are revisited upon the sons.
I found Joker to be an incredibly conservative movie, possibly the most conservative movie I’ve ever seen.1 Yet it isn’t conservative in the sense that it longs for the return of a distant past or apologizes for the sins of previous generations. Joker fully acknowledges that it was the sins of our fathers who created the agents of chaos currently running amok, but the movie further acknowledges that another generation’s sin is no excuse for the twisted actions of the agents of chaos.
How far do our sins reverberate across space and time? Indefinitely? Are we doomed to play out the events of Joker again and again, as the failings and excesses of one generation create a separate and distinct set of pathologies in the next? Because the implication of a generation of Jokers is that there will be a generation of Batmen coming next. A world replete with lawlessness will create in people a desire for order at all costs, and order at all costs carries with it its own set of problems, problems that don’t end well for men like Arthur Fleck.
I’ve written in the past about how our love for Batman represents a desire to see fascist tendencies in the hands of a person decent enough to be trusted with them. You can see this dynamic quite plainly in The Dark Knight, where in order to defeat The Joker, Batman has to resort to using invasive technology to monitor everyone’s cell phones. We are meant to understand that this is because there’s no other option, that stopping The Joker is so important that just this once we have to trust in the goodness of one man not to abuse the enormous power at his disposal.
But as we’ve all had ample reason to muse on lately, in the real world, law enforcement agents are not Batman. When we look at young Bruce Wayne, knowing that he will grow up to be Batman, the question hangs heavy in the air – will this be an improvement? Will Bruce Wayne, in order to stop The Joker, simply make his own set of choices, cross his own lines, betray his own principles, step outside the bounds of civilization to achieve his own goals just as Arthur Fleck did?
I don’t know either. Ask me again in a few months, years, decades.
One of the tweets I saw following Joker’s release said something to the effect of “Jeez… Batman would have to kill this Joker. He’d have no choice.”
Which was completely, 100%, against my take on it. My take was “Jeez… Batman would have to keep this Joker alive. It’d make sense that he keeps plopping him in Arkham.”
But the movies that have two completely different interpretations of the character by two people who saw the exact same movie and neither can imagine the other’s POV are the good ones.
The thing about the movie is that it was not the movie I wanted to see. I wanted to see a movie where we saw Arthur close his eyes and Joker open them. I don’t know that we ever saw the Joker (as we understood him before this movie) in the film.
We only saw maybe a couple of minutes of the chaosmancy that the Joker, as we understand him, is theoretically capable of creating (the scene on the subway, the “and I’m tired of pretending it’s not” line) and, instead, we got hours of Arthur trying to hold it together and then failing and then no longer caring and then leaning into it.
What’s so wacky is that I remember the discussions about how dangerous and scary the movie was before the fact… how likely the movie was to cause violence.
And it didn’t.
Instead, the movie seemed to see June 2020 coming, didn’t it?Report
I thought the scene at the end was interesting.
I felt it was implying that even locked up, what the Joker represented couldn’t be contained. He may have been in Arkham, but he was running free, leaving his “footsteps” behind him, and the guards couldn’t catch him. I thought that meant something.
I also think that we’re being told it wouldn’t matter if he was killed. Because there’s a very large age discrepancy between Arthur Fleck and Bruce Wayne here – so much so that you have to ask “how did this guy even face off against Batman in the future”? I think the filmmakers are implying that while this may have been the first “Joker” that it wasn’t necessarily the only Joker, there may well have been other Jokers who came after, like the Dread Pirate Roberts. “The Joker” is maybe not just one man, but is an idea of a man that transcends an individual and becomes a movement. It very well may be that “The Joker” played by Heath Ledger is a protege or follower of Arthur Fleck’s movement, because you’re right, Arthur Fleck did not even seem capable of putting together the type of grandiose schemes that the comic books envision.
Or, it may be that his followers were caretakers too, doing a lot of the heavy lifting of Jokerness and treating Arthur as more of a guru that they emulated and protected, not the guy pulling all the strings, per se. As elaborate as some of the Joker’s pranks have been over the years, it makes some sense that it’s actually a team putting them together rather than the machinations of one man.
Or, it may be that none of this is true and that this is meant just as a straight parable and doesn’t have to make sense.
Oh and yes it was chilling watching the movie here today knowing what had transpired. Very prescient.Report
The media were afraid it would advocate the kind of violence they don’t approve of. Instead it advocated the kind of violence they approve of.Report
Must think on this…Report
Fascinating post. I found the Joker movie to be a depressing, grim slog but I would agree with you that it’s probably a good movie.
I’m very curious as to how you would describe it as a conservative movie. Possibly this dark piece of work is a mirror that reflects what the viewer is back at them because I considered it a grim but rather moderate liberal movie.Report
Because unlike most movies, where the weirdo is a wise man who has so much to teach us, and the authorities are the Actual Bad Guys, it dares to show the truth in which weirdos are often shunned for a good reason and did it without demonizing the people who are trying to stop the bad guy
Even the “sins of past generations” were more of a turning of the wheel and not “our forefathers were like so totally evil, lucky we’re good now” while doing absolutely heinous things.
There was nothing liberal about this movie. Nothing.Report
Since we aren’t spending money on much other entertainment right now I’ve been on demanding movies far more freely than usual. Ended up renting Joker back in early covid. I found it interesting but also kind of self-indulgent. It would have been better without the comic book setting, which struck me as irrelevant to the plot. Like, can a movie not be made without using established property? Anyway I found it to be more derivative than subversive.
Of course I am glad all the people freaking out about it were wrong. I have no proof of it but I got the sense a bunch of cultural critics were almost hoping for some kind of incident for political reasons.Report
Because it was tied into Batman vast numbers more people saw the movie than otherwise would.
The comic book setting was completely relevant because like it or no comic books are the fables of our time.
It was subversive in the truest sense of the word because it took that comic book setting, with its good guy-bad guy dichotomy, often simple answers to hard questions, and knee jerk fascism, and showed the complexity of the real world instead.Report
They did make “Joker” without the comic book tie-in. It was called “Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer” and it made about $600K.
(I’m kidding, but serious movies with serial killer protagonists don’t make money.)Report
Funny, a friend and I were just talking about seriously hard to watch movies a couple weeks ago and that one came up. The French film ‘Man Bites Dog’ is similarly rough. I think a better parallel to Joker would probably be something like American Psycho.Report
American Psycho has pizzaz. And that makes it watchable for many people. Henry… is different.Report
One is stylized one is… not.Report
A better way to put it, yes.Report
American Psycho has the business card scene, which is magnificent.
Okay totally true story: I used to work at a gas station, back in the 80’s. Anyhow, we had this one customer who would come in. Drove a fancy car. Always in a suit. His first name was Angel. The first time he came in, I gave him the credit card form to sign, along with a pen. He took out his own pen. It was a fancy pen. He said, “I only sign with gold pens.”
I was like, OMG! People like that exist!
Anyhow, the business card scene worked for me. It was over the top, but people like that exist.Report
A lot of people idolize American Psycho. That’s kind of what I’m driving at here. It is past time for Hollywood to ask some hard questions rather than giving us a long string of supercool sociopaths for disaffected men to idolize.Report
1. The movie is effectively narrated by Arthur/Joker himself. He is an unreliable narrator indeed, as we see in part with the romance B plot, and maybe a bunch of other things. Things which may be relevant to point 3. below. Normally I dig the unreliable narrator but here it’s very subtle; it’s difficult to be certain of what clues the filmmakers are leaving to tell us “This is in his head, not in the ‘reality’ of this universe.” Just as a for-instance, the OP points to what seems a thirty-year or more age difference between Bruce Wayne and Arthur Fleck. Is this just Arthur’s perception of Bruce as a child, a potential younger brother?
2. The OP names the movie conservative for its insistence that Arthur alone is morally responsible for his evil deeds. We are not to blame his mother or society or his boss or even the a-hole rich boys on the subway. That’s true, but the movie also shows us an Arthur who is, perhaps not with supreme confidence or pleasure but some ability, able to navigate the world peacefully with the assistance of Gotham City’s social services network. When these services are removed, Arthur’s self-control diminishes and he begins to fall where before he only teetered near the edge of “sanity.” Arthur himself accuses, not wrongly, a society built and run by the elites for their own benefit and at the expense of smallfolk like himself. To the extent that his narration of the civic unrest is reliable, he finds an audience in Gotham for this argument. These seem very liberal to me.
3. We are told that Arthur’s mother [SPOILER] was diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder, and this is at the root of Arthur’s history of childhood abuse. I’m not so sure about this. As close as it comes is a scene where Arthur is bathing his elderly mothe, and it is portrayed as a loving, caring moment. It might have been filmable as a demanding, parasitical moment but at minimum, that’s not how Arthur saw it. The rest of the time we’re left to wonder if she’s delusional about Thomas Wayne or not. Mom is clearly off baseline but i’m not so sure she’s portrayed as a narcissist. She seems to have no outbursts of grandiose, no deflection or mirroring of faults, and she demonstrates empathy for Arthur. Other kinds of psychological factors might have let her allow a boyfriend to harm Arthur but NPD doesn’t ring true here. Again, if we’re being shown “the truth,” which is uncertain at nearly every turn.Report
In the loving, caring moment, he confesses to her that he’d like to become a comedian and she asks him “don’t you have to be funny?”
It isn’t a funny joke between two people who love each other. Would that it were.Report
The Joker staring as Rupert Pupkin.Report
Okay, maybe it wasn’t so loving, or it stopped being that way at that point.
But is that narcissism?Report
Well, the medical file itself says “narcissistic personality disorder”. (Jump ahead to 1:59… CW if you keep watching: contains descriptions of abuse and shows Arthur’s final interaction with his mother.)
So if we want to avoid armchair diagnosis, we can look at the file and see that, yep, officially she was diagnosed with the disorder.
With that in mind, we can look at their interactions and how she seemed obsessed with Thomas Wayne and was casually and thoughtlessly cruel in interactions that didn’t center on her.
I suppose we could fall back on how there were a lot of unreliable narrator scenes in the film and we don’t know that he actually got his hands on the file, let alone read it, let alone it said what he thought he saw… but if we concede that he saw the file and that, in that moment, we were seeing something that was actually happening and actually existed, then she had the clinical diagnosis.
And, from there, we can look at her actions and see if they are consistent within the diagnosis and, as far as I can tell, they are.Report
1) That’s an interesting take. Others have said (and this makes some sense to me) that just because this guy is A Joker doesn’t mean he is necessarily THE Joker; as in, Arthur Fleck may have become a kind of guru to that army of men wandering the streets and like the Dread Pirate Roberts passed the mantle on to one of them at some point.
2) I know that the mantra on this site is that “conservatives don’t believe in helping the poor” but of course charitable organizations that care for the mentally ill and destitute have existed for centuries and a huge amount of money is donated by conservatives to organizations that help the poor. Any conservative who skews Christian, helping the poor is actually in their rules and regs, right from Christ himself.
For many of us, myself very much included, the reason why we despise government programs to help the poor and mentally ill, is because they are corrupt, badly run, and do not serve the people they purport to help, in essence dumping them on the streets. Government does a terrible job serving these people and in my opinion creates a good number of them by continuing to fight reform of the public school system in which people like Arthur are imprisoned to face days of abuse and learn nothing whatsoever that could help them live a better life.
And, because people have already “given at the office” in terms of their tax dollars, many are less likely to extend a helping hand or open their wallet to the private charities that are doing a good job. “Not my problem, someone is already taking care of that because I’m a liberal and I care about people and I voted Democrat” has gotten us exactly where we are today, in all these municipalities that have been run by the Democrats for the better part of 100 years. Government help is akin to no help at all for a huge number of folks.
In short, while I chose not to cover that for the sake of the flow of the piece, I found all that extremely conservative as well.
3. That was such a jarring disconnect that I concluded it could not have been accidental on the part of the filmmaker. It may be that the abuse happened during some kind of psychotic break and she got counseling/medication. It may be she had mellowed with age or because she was unwell. Some believe Thomas Wayne really did have her records falsified. Or, it may be (and this is where I lean) that we are supposed to see the complexity of mental illness. If you’ve ever known a person who had NPD they can be incredibly loving most of the time and then they periodically go completely insane. You can live with this person and even be parented by them lovingly for months, even years, till you cross them, and then all hell breaks loose. A person with NPD is not always or even usually going around raging at you, that’s why it can be so hard to remove yourself from their influence.
This, I felt, was the reason why the filmmakers showed Arthur meeting Sophie in the elevator, her lighthearted attempt at humor by pretending to shoot herself when her little girl rambled on and on, and then Arthur following her. He saw nothing more than her being a good and loving mother, but in his mind he thought he knew – she didn’t like being a mother, she thought suicide was a better option than listening to her little girl talk, and even though she was loving most of the time, that wasn’t enough. That’s why he went back to her apartment (once he realized she wasn’t real and didn’t actually love him) because he saw her as a bad mother who didn’t deserve a child like that.Report
I agree, and yet, when we do treat him as such, we should remember that he’s a human being capable of suffering. (Not that you’re saying anything different.)Report
In that, the liberal mindset is quite right and always has been. At some point, though, the Misunderstood Guy became a Cool and Admirable Guy and I think that’s where a lot of things went off the track.
It is not by coincidence this movie is set when it is.Report