The author of this review is Joanna Chojnacka, a journalist at Gazeta.pl.
Superhero films rarely get noticed by the Academy when it comes to nominations in the most important categories. The 2020 Oscars were groundbreaking in that regard. Todd Phillips' "Joker" had 11 chances to win an award, ultimately taking home two. The film, loosely based on DC Comics, stood out from its genre. The subtle references to the universe of classic superheroes were almost irrelevant to the plot. The globally recognized character of the Joker served as a lesson that not everyone fully absorbed.
"Joker: Folie à Deux" Is a Reinterpretation of the Previous Film, and That’s Its Biggest Flaw
It’s impossible to evaluate "Joker: Folie à Deux" without referring to its predecessor. Phillips’ new work is a reinterpretation of it. After the release of "Joker" in 2019, many criticized the film for sympathizing too much with the main character and glorifying violence. Many critics felt that putting a murderer on a pedestal and making the audience sympathize with him was unethical. However, where supporters of these theories saw a mistake, I saw great value in "Joker".
Understanding where aggression, fear, madness, and the desire to kill come from, as well as the collective fascination with characters holding extreme views and behaviors, is the first step toward preventing the creation of such attitudes. Moreover, I didn’t expect that it wouldn't be obvious to some that the sympathy and compassion the Joker evokes is directed toward the part of his personality that was hurt—not the part that hurts others.
The lack of literalness in "Joker", the absence of spoon-feeding messages to the audience, led us to its sequel, which, instead of focusing on its own central theme, tries to respond to previous criticism. Art doesn’t have to correspond with reality, but when it does, it gains an additional dimension of value. It's worse when it doesn’t engage in dialogue with the real world but tries to explain itself to it. That’s the biggest flaw of the new "Joker". The film gets so tangled in justifying its artistic visions that it loses its footing. As a result, we get a film that is about everything and nothing.
Too Many Plotlines, Too Little Meaning
In "Joker: Folie à Deux," the titular character resides in Arkham, the psychiatric hospital familiar to all DC Comics fans. In the film’s drawn-out introduction, we witness Arthur Fleck’s routine, wince at the sight of the dirty corridors, and feel sympathy for Joker’s grotesquely thin frame. Locked up in a high-security ward, the murderer awaits his trial, which is to be the biggest event in Gotham’s judicial history. However, the trial is just one of many (too many) threads in the film.
There are countless issues in Phillips’ new work that could have laid the foundation for another valuable social drama, as the first "Joker" undoubtedly was. Once again, we encounter the growing problem of the deepening divide between social classes, resulting in rebellion from the misunderstood and rejected. These individuals don’t see the Joker as a murderer but as a hero, and fanaticism escalates in Gotham.
"Joker: Folie à Deux" also touches on harsh criticism of the ruling class, the inept justice system, healthcare, and even the legal profession, which echoes the media by exploiting weaknesses and tragedies for career advancement. As a result, those who are supposed to help start to harm, driven by a desire for recognition - just like the Joker.
A surprising and powerful yet unfortunately too insignificant element of the film is the situation of the mentally ill in Arkham. The problem of closed high-security facilities is not new to cinema, but in this case, it’s hard not to feel regret that the issue was only briefly touched upon by the creators. One strong scene, which didn’t have enough time to resonate properly, marks the beginning of the film’s problems. An important segment that could have powerfully affected the imagination is undermined by the sometimes absurdly unrealistic plot twists offered earlier by the filmmakers. A man who killed six people likely wouldn’t have the kind of freedom behind bars that the Joker enjoys, parading around without handcuffs and receiving rewards for good behavior. Sometimes it's cigarettes; other times, it's a visit to the "regular" patients' ward and participation in music therapy.
"There’s a Joker in Every Deck"
What surprises me most about the plot of the new "Joker" is the complete abandonment of the idea suggested by the film’s title. Folie à deux is the so-called shared psychosis—a phenomenon where someone closely connected to a mentally ill person not only accepts their behavior uncritically but also begins to share their paranoid delusions. This definition essentially provides a ready-made script. It would have drawn heavily from DC Comics, where Harley Quinn—formerly Dr. Harleen Quinzel—was the Joker’s psychiatrist. The potential for a psychological study of toxic love and forbidden fascination with madness was excellent.
Instead, we get a rather shallow and unsatisfying relationship between Joker and Lee, which didn’t have time to develop credibly. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough time because the Joker needed to sing and dance a bit. And don’t get me wrong—the musical numbers are phenomenally executed here. The cheerful music contrasts with and complements the events on screen, and almost every shot from Joker’s delusional visions is poster-worthy. It’s a visual and auditory masterpiece. Too bad it’s utterly unnecessary.
The musical elements don’t enhance the narrative; they disrupt it. They don’t add much besides serving as a way to cover plot holes and provide pleasant visuals. This aspect of the film shows that the creators lost faith in the intelligence of their audience. Phoenix and Gaga are brilliant in their roles. Watching their expressions and gestures closely often provides enough insight into their characters’ thoughts. Many scenes didn’t need such literal clarification.
The brutally realistic approach of the first film has been replaced in "Joker: Folie à Deux" with a chaotic and, most importantly, surreal depiction. Here, the dark, gritty reality of 1970s Gotham blends with a colorful dream and Joker’s pathological delusions. This dreamlike, exaggerated, bright aesthetic perfectly suits the characters and their stories. Unfortunately, these brilliantly conceived aesthetic choices weren’t well-utilized to build the world and narrative—they served only as visual spectacles.
There’s No Method to This Madness
Sticking with the "Joker 2" as a musical theme, ironically, in the first film, the dance scenes held much more symbolic weight than the main theme—music—does in its sequel. Every Joker dance once foreshadowed a breakthrough, a crime, or the protagonist’s transformation. The loss of that symbolism raises questions about whether the elements that made the previous film so exceptional were a mere fluke.
Casting Lady Gaga in the sequel raised a lot of controversy when it was announced, but she is absolutely phenomenal as Lee. She matches Phoenix in terms of charisma and understanding of her character. I’m only disappointed that Lee is just beginning to transform into Harley, and we didn’t get to see Gaga fully unleash her chaotic madness. I’m convinced she’s capable of much, much more in that regard.
Joaquin Phoenix is still a revelation as Joker, a perfect casting that cinema has seen in recent years. However, the new supporting characters fare poorly, offering nothing remarkable. They merely play their assigned roles. The dark shots of Gotham are once again accompanied by Hildur Gudnadóttir’s haunting music, but her beautiful compositions get lost among the melodic songs.
"Joker: Folie à Deux" is undoubtedly a visual, acting, and auditory masterpiece. However, the screenplay wavers so much between a lack of ideas and an excess of them, between apparent boldness and caution, that it delivers a story far less rich than everyone expected. The film is caught between trying to satisfy the expectations of some viewers and critics and the creators' artistic vision. I wouldn’t say it’s an unnecessary sequel. It serves as a timely warning to creators against excessive conformity.
