Review: Joker

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

Martin Scorsese caught some flak this week from comic book movie fans after he noted such pictures are "not cinema," but rather more in line with amusement park rides. While I won't dive into that - albeit to say that if forced to choose a side, I'm Team Scorsese all the way - I find it amusing that the latest comic book film, Todd Phillips' grim "Joker," to make its way into theaters this week is obviously aiming to capture Scorsese's aesthetic, while also riffing on two of his movies - "Taxi Driver" and "The King of Comedy."

As a result, a number of people have praised the film - and it somewhat shockingly won the Venice Film Festival - as being "edgy" and "dark," two adjectives often applied to blockbuster films when they go beyond the typical genre thrills. But while the visual style of "Joker" is accomplished enough - and Joaquin Phoenix acts the hell out of the lead role - Phillips' film is one that aims to push buttons, without seeming to know exactly what it wants to say.

It's a movie with an edgy vibe onto which people have projected what they want it to be about. Some believe it's a right wing fantasy that portrays an incel-type man who feels as if he has been pushed to the limits and responds with violence - certainly a pertinent theme in our modern era, albeit one that should be handled by someone who aims to take it seriously - while others consider it some type of Occupy Wall Street screed against the one percent. Phillips is previously the director of "The Hangover" and "Road Trip," so the subtlety required for this type of material, suffice it to say, is somewhat wanting.

At the beginning of the film, we meet Arthur Fleck (Phoenix), a sad sack in early 1980s New York - OK fine, Gotham City - who barely makes ends meet as a clown at children's parties. He lives with his ailing mother (Frances Conroy) and is taunted or mistreated by nearly everyone.

Those believing the film to be some sort of MAGA fantasy have some material with which to work. Arthur is jumped and beaten by some Latino youths, a black woman on a bus scolds him for trying to make her kid laugh, his black social worker "doesn't listen" to him and a young, black single mother (Zazie Beetz) who lives down the hall - and whose character serves only one minor purpose - seemingly doesn't know he exists. So, when he complains about his distaste for the city's people, who might he be talking about?

Then again, those who consider the picture to be an exploration of class resentment will point out that Joker's first victims are a trio of awful Wall Street types who taunt him on the subway. Thomas Wayne (Brett Cullen), father of Bruce, has a connection to Arthur, and when they meet he is a snotty, upper crust jerk as well. So, in "Joker," the rich people suck and the poor people suck, so what's a guy to do other than to wreak havoc and start murdering people?

The film's visual style - although somewhat heavily borrowed from other movies - is impressive enough, and the filmmakers do a good job of recapturing the gritty look of early 1980s New York, with trash piled everywhere and adult theaters dotting Times Square's landscape. But it also borrows heavily from Scorsese movies, thematically and visually - Arthur is a Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro's character from "Taxi Driver") type, while the smarmy talk show host portrayed by De Niro is clearly a callback to Jerry Lewis's character in "The King of Comedy," a film in which a creepy character (De Niro again) stalks a TV host with whom he's obsessed.

And Phoenix, one of the best actors of his generation, gives a solid performance as Arthur, who is plagued with tics - including an unsettling laugh that he cannot control - and a sympathetic figure, that is, until he suddenly isn't. Some expect the actor has a decent shot at an Oscar, which is fine, although he should have won for his much more complex performance in Paul Thomas Anderson's "The Master," in which he also played a troubled soul. In "Joker," Phoenix gives more to the film than the material probably deserves.

Among the film's most significant issues is that it clearly wants to get a rise out of viewers and be controversial, but I'm not sure it knows what it wants to say. Arthur claims that he doesn't care about politics, but the film feels political.

One of the strangest sequences onto which some viewers have projected what they want to see is one in which the city becomes overrun with angry citizens donning clown masks. They're protesting... well, what exactly? Income inequality? The trash strike? Who knows? One of the protesters is holding up a sign that reads "We Are All Clowns," although in keeping in line with the tone of the film it might have been more appropriate to say "Not All Clowns."

Anyway, "Joker" is a technically impressive and well acted - Phoenix especially - film that still doesn't quite work because it clearly believes it's making some sort of statement (on something), but its tackling of substantive, worthwhile subjects is ultimately shallow. Some critics are concerned that it'll set off a wave of violence from incels - also known as "involuntary celibates," or angry young men who are part of an online community that traffics in misogyny and racism due to their perceived inability to find a romantic partner - but I'm not so sure about that.

As social commentary, "Joker" doesn't have any type of clear cut agenda one way or another. The filmmakers appear to think that it's an indictment of our culture, but if you look at the state of the world, one might mistake "Joker" for an anarchic celebration of it.