No joke

*Spoiler warning* The following review contains plenty of spoilers for the movie, and you definitely don’t want this one spoilt. Oh, you’ve already seen it? Great, carry on…

In a year where Marvel’s Avengers: Endgame blitzes the all-time box office record and Star Wars fans gear up for the conclusion of a story 42 years in the making, a standalone – comparatively low budget – comic book movie could easily be forgotten.

But for a combination of the best acting performance I’ve ever seen in a comic book film, a gripping story punctuated with great cinematography, and an immersive score that builds into an overwhelmingly dark and disturbing vibe, Joker is a movie that is totally unforgettable.

To a degree, the film’s title is almost misleading – this is less a Joker movie and instead an in-depth character piece on Arthur Fleck. Although, I’m not sure Warner Bros would have put enough bums in seats to make $40 million in the opening two nights if they had called it “Arthur.”

As such, Phoenix is in almost every single scene in the movie. In fact, I can only think of one scene – the one in which Bruce Wayne’s parents are brutally gunned down in front of him – as the only scene that doesn’t directly feature Phoenix, (and it’s only about 45 seconds of screen time).

Phoenix truly became Arthur in this movie, from the 52 pound weight loss, (3.7 stone if that’s your jam) that he put himself through before filming to make for a near skeletal appearance, to the mad Joker cackle which he delivered in unsettling fashion throughout.

Striking audible cues were matched by Phoenix’s facial expressions. We learn so much about his mental and physical pain through Arthur’s face and beneath the distraction of clown makeup. Facial expressions during his spells of uncontrollable laughter that paint an entirely different picture compared to the hysterical laughter that we can hear. The young Wayne employees on the subway train couldn’t see through the laughter at the time-bomb underneath and that did’t pan out so well.

It’s the expressions that help to punctuate the twists and my goodness, the twists in this movie are so well executed and well earned.

We first realise that Arthur is an unreliable narrator when we see how his set at Pogo’s was received – not with the laughter that was first suggested according to Arthur’s perspective, but instead with mockery on Murray’s TV show. Arthur’s distress at seeing himself and his dreams torn down by his hero and father figure on TV is one of several flashpoints that contribute to his derailing and Phoenix portrays the pain without words – his face says it all way better than any lines could.

This unreliable narration is most powerful when it comes to the revelation that Arthur’s relationship with Zazie Beetz’s Sophie is in fact simply a delusion and much like Arthur’s delusions of grandeur on the Pogo’s stage.

The way in which that twist was revealed was terrifying. Strolling into Sophie’s apartment to be met by her fear as this strange chap from down the hall is slumped in her sofa – Beetz plays the scene really well. Up to that point, her acting had been a touch disconnected and it suddenly became clear as to why.

I love it when a twist in a movie makes you question what you’ve seen and from the perspective in which you’ve seen it. It’s why I love M. Night Shyamalan’s Eastrail 177 trilogy and Glass in particular.

Phoenix also deserves credit for the physical elements of his performance. Immediately after the subway murders, Arthur starts dancing in a public restroom and we get the feeling that, after a lifetime of being beaten down, he finally feels as though he is in control. In this oddly graceful moment, Phoenix manages to portray pain and reprieve all at once and it is striking and – yet again – truly uncomfortable.

Hildur Guonadottir’s score adds to the atmosphere throughout, but particularly during this scene. The music suddenly drops in pitch, becomes more threatening and intensifies. It’s when I first starting thinking that the score could make it’s way into Oscar conversations – it really is that good.

Go listen to “Call me Joker” on Spotify and tell me that it doesn’t deserve a seat at the table during awards season for how well it supplements the tone – and in that case ending – of the movie.

But above all else, what made this move an instant classic is the comprehensiveness of the character arc. We start the movie with a literally beaten down Arthur Fleck, ignored by society and end it with a true madman in Joker – the catalyst of a violent movement against the rich and powerful. He goes from someone who “doesn’t want to feel so bad anymore” to someone who has fully embraced his inner demons that he believes are manifested by the oppressive nature of Gotham when in actual fact, it’s his own delusions that have led him to his destructive conclusions.

The stairs are where the contrast between Arthur and the Joker are felt the most. At the start of the film we see a hunched Arthur, wearing old and grotty clothes forlornly climbing up. By the end of the film, a suited and booted Joker is dancing down the stairs – literally dancing during his descent into chaos.

It’s one heck of a metaphor and one which gives seemingly throw away sequences from the start of the film a real pay off, while serving to show Arthur’s evolution into the monster that is the Joker.

This isn’t a comic book action movie. It isn’t a swashbuckling adventure. This is a scary, artful, character piece and Phoenix’s acting, Todd Phillips’ direction, Lawrence Sher’s cinematography and Guonadottir’s score all build to make Joker a real cinematic achievement that will make you feel deeply uncomfortable, and that’s very much the point.