The sequel to Joker (2019) flirts with duality. There’s the lingering question of whether clown-turned-murderer Arthur Fleck is a self-aware psychopath or a patient with dissociative identity disorder who expresses himself through the Joker persona.
Locked away in the brutal Arkham Asylum for killing six people, Arthur (Joaquin Phoenix) careens between lucidity and delusion. His lawyer Maryanne (Catherine Keener) pleads for a fair hearing on the ground of insanity, which is vehemently opposed by state attorney Harvey Dent (Harry Lawtey). Complicating Arthur’s trial is Arkham’s new inmate Lee Quinzel (Lady Gaga), who is obsessed with Joker to the point of mimicking his appearance and actions.
Unlike most sequels, Joker: Folie à Deux has every reason to exist. Todd Phillips’s follow-up to the brilliant Joker (2019) has the intent and means to mine the “madness of two” suggested by the title –but not the rigour or imagination.
The screenplay by Phillips and Scott Silver is barely interested in the transference of psychotic behaviour from killer to mega-fan. Rather, the casting of the singer Lady Gaga – a fine actor in her own right, with an electric screen presence – allows Folie à Deux to pose as a grim musical.
Hildur Guonadottir’s brooding background score merges seamlessly with Gaga’s renditions of popular American songs. The off-kilter romance proceeds through gorgeously filmed fantasy set pieces.
The nihilistic flavour of the first production has made way for the false comforts of music, companionship and celebrity. Newfound fame and Lee’s overtures galvanise Arthur – a transformation that is mesmerisingly depicted by Joaquin Phoenix.
Despite memorable contributions by Gaga, Folie à Deux is a solo act. Phoenix’s interpretation of a cult comic book character is as outstanding as before and somewhat more poignant too. As Arthur/Joker, Phoenix laughs manically, sings shakily, and wills his emaciated body into dance moves – an enthralling portrayal that exists by itself, removed from whatever else is going on in the 138-minute movie.
Folie à Deux is similarly far too involved in staging magnificent-looking sequences to chase its ambitions. Beautifully shot by Lawrence Sher and smoothly edited by Jeff Groth, Folie A Deux is forever perched at the edge of a descent into full-blown madness. The movie never gets there, leaving us with stunning visuals and an exploration of psychosis as limp as one of Arthur’s jokes.
