“Joker: Folie à Deux”: Not a film for Joker fans

Shared madness is always the best – especially when you can sing together and have Lady Gaga by your side. The reunion with Joaquin Phoenix as Arthur Fleck aka. However, Joker is not pure joy, but feels very strange. This is mainly due to the direction in which this work is developing.

Joker behind bars and in court

“Joker: Folie à Deux” tells a special love story, but is primarily a prison and court film that confronts its main character with the penal system (and gives Brendan Gleeson a supporting role as a brutal guard). For two years, Arthur has been behind bars in Arkham Asylum awaiting trial, while throngs of violent supporters vehemently demand his release. But in his immediate vicinity there is a very special fan named Harleen Quinzel, who – as we as comic readers know – will later refer to herself as Harley Quinn.

Split soul full of music

But be careful: This film has even less to do with the DC world than the first part, although it features a prosecutor named Harvey Dent, who theoretically should be a Two-Face. It's still about two souls in one chest, because the question arises as to whether Fleck has a split personality and bears no responsibility for his actions as the Joker. This is a strategy on which the defense is based, but which Quinzel doesn't want to know about because it contradicts her image of the adored man.

She takes every opportunity to get close to the prisoner, and while in the previous film Fleck had a relationship that only existed in his head, this time his relationship with Harleen is very real – but now they dive together into a fantasy world full of music and dance through the courtroom or tap dancing across the stage of an imaginary TV show. (The famous staircase also returns as a venue, but there is no dancing there.)

Great Gaga, suffering Phoenix

Of course, Lady Gaga is, as always, a force to be reckoned with as an actress (while she mostly has to hold back when it comes to singing and isn't allowed to let loose as much as she actually could), and Phoenix further perfects the already familiar figure with full physical exertion by stretching himself to the bone presented emaciated. His Arthur Fleck remains a man of pain and suffering, has to endure new abuses and keeps getting bloody wounds practically until the last second.

It looks more like Phoenix is ​​continuing his role from “Beau Is Afraid.” This time the willingness to use violence is only reflected in fantasies and we have to wait a long time for the familiar, eerie laughter, because at the beginning Fleck almost lost his ability to speak before he finally found a (singing) voice, which would not bring him a real singing career.

Music as filler?

And what kind of music can we expect here? It was already known in advance that there would be no original compositions to be heard. So can we look forward to evergreens being reinterpreted? That's not entirely true – there are traditionals like “When The Saints Go Marching In”, a Sinatra song like “That's Life” and other songs by George Gershwin, Jacques Brel or Burt Bacharach. But at least the title song was written by Lady Gaga. But unfortunately one has the impression that the plot often stands still and the vocal performances sometimes have to serve as mere filler material.

Repetition effects and lengths

Another problem arises because we are dealing with a sequel and, especially during the trial, references are made to the incidents in the earlier film – characters from that time are now suddenly being cross-examined. Such follow-up discussions are intended to allow us to look at the events from a new perspective, but they seem more like a slow repetition of what we already know. The long, repeated attempts to explore Arthur's psyche – with short flashbacks from the first part – soon become tiring without producing any real results.

Disappointed expectations

Upswings that come to nothing, false hopes and total disillusionment – if director and screenwriter Todd Phillips actually wanted to implement such experiences, he has achieved his goal perfectly: Rarely before has a work so consistently disregarded the expectations built up over long stretches and the audience so offended.

Of course, the unexpected shouldn't be rejected out of hand – if someone doesn't meet expectations, it can be a very exciting or liberating experience. But the dismantling of a figure presented here simply results in far too much disappointment. Did Phillips just make the film to take the wind out of the sails of those who might clamor for another sequel? At the same time, the work leaves us with the disturbing question: Have we been betting on a false joker all along?

2 ½ of 5 sad clowns