Joker: Folie à Deux

When director Todd Phillips dropped Joker in 2019, no one expected that his R-rated origin story about a man who dons the persona of one of Batman’s most iconic villains would wind up in the billion-dollar club. Sure, the plot and characters were a bit derivative of Martin Scorsese’s much better efforts The King of Comedy and Taxi Driver. Yet somehow we got a decidedly different take on the Clown Prince of Crime. It was refreshing that it wasn’t a generic comic book film drenched in CGI or include a bombastic, climactic battle with a skybeam. Phillips even provided us with social commentary, with messages about how we should treat each other, and the dangers of what can happen to broken people living in a broken world.

However, once the studio saw that the movie had made a billion dollars, not to mention that Joaquin Phoenix snagged an Academy Award for his lead performance, a sequel was all but inevitable. It didn’t matter to them that the Hangover director had an infamously poor track record with sequels. So what if he intended it to be a standalone story? And who cares if this film is made on a budget over twice that of the predecessor—$200 million, to be precise?

The sequel opens with Phoenix reprising his role as Joker/Arthur Fleck, now imprisoned in Arkham Asylum after murdering at least five people in cold blood—most notably, Robert De Niro’s comedian Murray Franklin on live television. Now he is once again miserable, going through the same routine every day. Brendan Gleeson joins the cast as one of the prison guards who takes immense pleasure in antagonizing him. Every morning, he wakes Arthur up, asking if he has a joke for them, walking him through the grimy halls to the showers, relishing every opportunity to make small talk before smacking the convict in the head to remind him who’s in charge. The inmates congregate outside in a courtyard that resembles the one at Shawshank—only, this place is completely devoid of any of the hope or kindness found in that place.

That is, until Arthur meets Harley “Lee” Quinzel, played by Lady Gaga. She is part of a singing class that the guards eventually allow him to join because he hasn’t been causing trouble. Lee is a delusional fangirl of Joker, enamored with his violent rebellion against the oppressive system: a blatant stand-in of all the fans who might have been too enamored with the movie, and might have even taken away the wrong lessons. Arthur now has a pep in his step that wasn’t there before, and he spontaneously bursts into song—something that has been missing from his life for so long. Of course, the 2019 film used musical numbers at pivotal junctures. Soon after meeting Lee, the two develop a romance, even though she keeps us guessing throughout whether she really loves Arthur or is manipulating him for personal benefitSuffice to say that while that last question is eventually answered, Gaga’s character largely disappears as the narrative shifts to a courtroom drama, with Joker/Fleck on trial and facing the death sentence for his crimes in the first film. He can only be proven innocent if the court rules that his Joker personality perpetrated these murders. Is it possible that Arthur is just a mentally ill victim of abuse who suddenly snapped and spiraled out of control?

One of the big problems that plague this sequel is that, like the main character, it is also suffering from a significant identity crisis. Early on, it feels like it wants to be a romance. But it’s also a jukebox musical. Additionally, it is attempting to be a courtroom drama. And of course, it wants to be a sequel to the huge financial success that its predecessor was. Unfortunately, it feels more like a tacked-on epilogue.

Folie à Deux is a French term for “the presence of the same or similar delusional ideas in two persons closely associated with one another”. Most certainly this applies to Joker and Lee, who share multiple musical numbers together that are meant to reflect their mindsets. Many of these have been teased in the marketing campaign, and whenever the two are singing and dancing on these elaborate stages during these sequences, the sets are creative and undeniably well-shot by cinematographer Lawrence Sher, whose work on the predecessor was one of the biggest highlights. Here, he still provides us with plenty of gorgeous shots, from the dreary confines of Arkham to the more fantastical scenes.

Returning composer Hildur Guðnadóttir brings back the hauntingly beautiful score from the original. It’s a shame that this excellent work is frequently interrupted for Phoenix and Gaga to sing yet another cover of a popular song. Harmonizing together, they are just fine. Phoenix is quite good during his solo renditions and reminds us why he was hired to play Johnny Cash. Unfortunately, Gaga was clearly hired to play this DC Elseworlds version of Joker’s love interest because everyone knows that she is a talented singer. If the filmmakers decided against the musical aspect, they would have just hired another actress, especially considering how half-baked her relationship with Arthur is. Speaking of missed opportunities, any potentially interesting questions raised about themes including how past traumas might shape someone or the dangers of hero worship are never really explored.

Worse, the musical numbers are forgettable. Yet one plays about every five minutes over the course of the nearly two-and-a-half-hour runtime. It becomes particularly obnoxious when they interrupt the film, stopping it dead in its tracks, and this happens multiple times. The sequel opens with a creative animated short that incorporates clever visuals with a song. This brief sequence is an artistic flourish that serves as probably my favorite in the entire film. In the best musicals, you not only remember every tune but each one helps progress the plot. Strip away the musical element from this movie, and it’s better for it.

Alas, Phillips spends too much time rehashing the events of the predecessor. The crimes that landed Arthur in Arkham and on trial all took place there, and if you saw the movie, you already know what happened, so we don’t need a recap. The filmmakers even bring back a few characters to testify, including his neighbor (Zazie Beetz), his former social worker and therapist (Sharon Washington), and even Gary (Leigh Gill), a dwarf who worked with Arthur and later witnessed him brutally murder another man. Even these returning players have far too little to offer, reinforcing that we’re still stuck in the past when we should be seeing our main characters move forward, progressing their arcs in meaningful and satisfying ways instead of backtracking.

Folie à Deux certainly has its merits, including the direction, the score and cinematography. At least Phoenix is up to the challenge, and gives us another stellar performance, so committed that his body is even more rail-thin here. Gleeson is a standout among the newcomers, and he is always fun to watch. Credit where credit is due, Gill’s scene with Phoenix is a good one. But these are not enough to save it. In fact, the longer I watched this trainwreck unfold, the more my greatest fears were realized. The primary issue is that this sequel feels like Phillips hates his audience and is giving us a big middle finger for even caring about his 2019 surprise success, much less a potential future. He seemingly hates this alternate Joker and his alter ego, cursing us for caring at all.

I was beyond disappointed considering the potential of a sequel. In fact, whatever issues I had with the original, I was admittedly curious to see what would happen next. The success of Joker was that it was an aesthetically pleasing, well-acted film with a clear purpose and some clear messages with an unreliable narrator that worked. This time, I left the theater wondering what the point even was. I didn’t understand what it was supposed to be. Joker: Folie à Deux is a monumental disaster that is a pretentious, meandering, morose, morbid, and mean-spirited slog. It is a cruel joke with no punchline. If you choose to waste your time and money on this one, the joke’s on you.

138 minutes