The Joker arrived with some controversy as to whether it glorifies violence in an unsavory way. Yet another controversy with some relevance has appeared since the movie, when Martin Scorsese (and later, Francis Ford Coppola) savaged comic book films as "not cinema." Many people respond to this by claiming that any comparison between them is unrealistic, that the two kinds of movies are apples and oranges. Whether you buy that argument or not, ir doesn't really work for Joker, as it really wants to be taken as "seriously."
Indeed, I can't help but wonder if Scorsese made his comments because of Joker -- to a great extent, it feels like a remake of (or homage to) Scorsese's own 1976 film, Taxi Driver. Both are the story of a protagonist consumed by insanity and unable to function in a morally corrupt city. They're set in roughly the same time frame, with Taxi Driver contemporary in its time, and Joker set just a few years later in 1981. And to really hammer the comparison home, both movies have Robert De Niro in the cast.
Joker is not just choosing not to aim for the light escapism of Marvel movies, it's also not really going for the grimdark of Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight trilogy (or the subsequent DC films determined to fit in a similar mode). To the greatest extent possible -- while name-dropping things like Gotham City, Arkham Asylum, and the Wayne family -- this movie is aiming for stark realism. And I think it's fine if a "comic book movie" wants to try charting such a course. But to me, the movie is sort of missing a point of view to go along with that.
At times, it seems like Joker might be trying to make a statement on wealth inequality. But it's awfully hard to square that with the movie's rather frequent references to the Batman universe -- what with Batman being a billionaire and all (albeit one who decided to become a superhero rather than run for president). There's just enough meat here to defend against the claims that the movie glorifies violence: it's in the name of overthrowing unjust classism. But beyond making the obvious statement that the world is filled with haves and have-nots, the movie doesn't really do much to make you think or feel anything on the matter.
At other times, Joker feels like it might be trying to make a statement on mental illness. Here, it struggles in two ways. First, the period setting of decades past makes it easier to dismiss. Second, the film never actually finds a statement on mental illness to make. The protagonist, Arthur Fleck, is shown within minutes to be an unreliable narrator... but he's the only narrator we get in the whole movie. (Only one scene happens without him present, and it's a scene we've seen many, many times before.)
Unlike other movies with unreliable narrators, Joker never contrasts with other unreliable narrators (like Rashomon), or ever offers you a look at objective truth (like Fight Club). In the two hours of Joker, it is equally plausible that some or none of what we're seeing actually happens. And it isn't particularly compelling to wonder where that line between fantasy and reality is, as the movie offers no tidbits of information to spark such a discussion. Even though the movie is striving for realism, it could all be fantasy in Arthur Fleck's head -- and that makes it hard to care about anything that happens.
The movie does look great. From locations to sets, from costuming to props, to the way images are framed and the usage of the camera, it looks so authentically early 80s that you could almost believe the movie was actually made then. And Joaquin Phoenix is certainly giving a hyper-committed performance; Christian Bale is no longer the benchmark for taking a comic genre movie oh so seriously.
Mostly, though, I was kind of bored by Joker. It wasn't bad, but there was potential there that never really gelled. I give it a C.
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