The moment the credits rolled on Joker: Folie à Deux, the tangible sound of stunned silence filled the theater. It wasn’t unexpected. Minutes before the film screened, we were told by director Todd Phillips that early screenings of the film ended with many saying they needed to process it. There’s so much to unpack from the sequel to the 2019 Oscar-winner, that such a reaction is completely warranted.

It’s amazing to think about how much Phillips has grown considerably since Road Trip. Heck, it’s incredible to think about how much he’s grown as a filmmaker since the previous Joker film. Folie à Deux is evidence of that. Because hands down, it’s one of the most impressive and technically complex films Phillips has ever done.

One may think the original Joker was an ambitious effort, being essentially the first truly “prestige movie” to come out within the superhero genre. One may also think, given a Best Picture nomination and Best Actor win for star Joaquin Phoenix, that the team behind it would be content to stop there. Instead, Folie à Deux does something quite impressive, which is take everything multiple steps further, never just settling for what made the first film work but pushing the performers and crew to the limits of what could be possible in a surreal work of art that leaves you speechless long after the finale.

However, much like the first Joker film, it’s not without its problematic aspects as well. So I anticipate the court of public opinion (an apt statement given the film’s subject matter) to be just as divisive as it was in 2019, as many viewed the original film as one that generously promoted themes regarding toxic masculinity and entitlement. And in many ways, controversial as it might be, Folie à Deux doubles down on that.

But let’s back up and discuss the plot first. Folie à Deux revisits a now incarcerated Arthur Fleck in Arkham. Day in and day out, he’s heavily medicated and surrounded by abusive guards, including a quite ruthless Brendan Gleeson. To the other inmates he’s seen as something of a folk hero, though he finds himself relatively numb, depressed, and beaten, meeting regularly with his attorney (Catherine Keener), who is preparing him for the trial of the century under defense of the insanity plea. One day, however, he catches the attention of minimum security inmate, Harleen “Lee” Quinzel (Lady Gaga). Suddenly, a spark of anarchy is reintroduced within Arthur, as a torrid and chaotic love affair begins between the two, just as the trial commences.

Phillips does a phenomenal job making this installment feel completely different from the first, and that’s quite difficult to do. He manages to successfully balance the courtroom drama aspect of the movie, which blatantly satirizes America’s media fascination with criminal prosecution, and the musical aspect of the movie with set pieces that feel authentically out of a ’50s musical. The musical numbers are explicitly staged to do what good musical numbers are supposed to do: make the subtext text. The reason this is meant to be a musical is to allow Arthur and Lee to express what they’re feeling and thinking during scenes where they can’t explicitly say or do what they want to. That’s an incredibly ambitious and unique way to approach this story. How Phillips makes this all look (with terrific cinematography from Lawrence Sher and production design by Mark Friedberg) and sound (given the terrific score from Oscar-winner Hildur Guðnadóttir) is quite a triumph.

Call it pretentious if you must, but I can’t think of any instance where this has been done in either a Phillips movie or any comic book movie (Yes, The Marvels had a musical sequence, but that was actually a pointless low point in an otherwise lovely film). The thing is, I found myself incredibly impressed with how the sequences were staged and how well they blended into the film. If you’re looking for something new in the comic book movie genre, Folie à Deux gives it to you and in spades! Plus, Phillips brings out the most amazing performances in his talented cast.

This is hands down the Phoenix/Gaga show! It is breathtaking to watch these two performers push themselves to peak levels for the benefit of the film and the audience; particularly in the musical sequences. Phoenix’s singing here is a lot less refined than it was in Walk The Line, and that’s the point. Arthur Fleck is an ugly person in an ugly situation within an ugly movie. The performance had to be raw and rough, and that’s what Phoenix delivers, with a scratchy, unflinching pitch. This isn’t about sounding pleasant, it’s about the shared sense of madness and toxicity these two share.

The same goes for Gaga, though given her background as a wonderful vocalist and performer, it’s impossible to make her sound rough. But she, naturally, puts all of her raw energetic gusto into delivering the showstopping numbers. When the movie isn’t focused on the musical numbers, they both give phenomenal performances as actors, with Phoenix going for broke with his deranged courtroom prosecutions, and Gaga consciously embracing the satirical performative affections of a toxic attention seeker and a compulsive liar.

However, this is where I started to have issues with the film. I am a ride or die Harley Quinn fan. This is a character that I’ve known and loved since I was a kid watching Batman: The Animated Series. It’s also a character I greatly sympathize with, being one that is essentially trapped in a toxic relationship because she’s unfortunately, purely, and wholly in love with an abusive monster who only loves himself. It’s why we feel for her, and why we root for her when she ultimately realizes this and decides to find the strength and courage to break it off with him.

But “Lee” isn’t that version of Harley. In this film, she’s the toxic half of this relationship: an attention seeking user who doesn’t care about Fleck, and puts on a performative act of affection for him simply because she’s intrigued by the celebrity of “Joker” and the trial surrounding him. In fact, she’s the reason Fleck decides to throw away everything and embrace the “Joker” persona and the fame and attention that comes with it.

This is a HUGE problem. Because not only does it diminish one of the best characters in DC to a horrible individual, but it’s the character that actually should be the real victim in any version of the mythology. It’s the essence of who Harley is, and the movie chooses to subvert it in order to make Fleck more sympathetic. That’s actually just a really bad take, because it seemingly doubles down on the misogyny and toxic masculinity the first film was criticized for. Just as the first film seemed to suggest Fleck was a product of what the unfairness of society did to him, this film is suggesting he’s evil because of a woman who just wants to use him for fame and attention. Like really? That’s the takeaway we’re supposed to take from this?

The problem with both Joker films is that Phillips and Phoenix love the Arthur Fleck character and sympathize with him so much, that they seem to be comfortable blaming external circumstances, like how mean society is or a woman who seduces him, for his sins. They just can’t seem to admit that Joker is merely just a horrible monster and a product of his own demented actions and self-righteousness. It’s a character defined by neediness, and self-pity when everyone else in society is also suffering. It’s a character that, between the first movie and this one, is still endowed with a sense of entitlement, arrogance, and self-righteousness. As such, the film reduces a great character like Harley Quinn, with a terrific actress like Gaga into a two-dimensional stereotype of a toxic woman, to further create sympathy for a toxic man. This is really not great, and none of the well staged set pieces, or brilliant artistic endeavors can really justify this being the point of the film.

This I think is another problem with Folie à Deux. I don’t quite know what the point of it was, if thematically and even from a character perspective, it’s fairly redundant with the first movie. Does it set itself apart stylistically? Absolutely. It challenges what could be done with the genre in a way that’s even bolder than what the first film did. But if the film is going to be ambitious in that regard, and it very much is, then why not try and be ambitious in how it evolves Arthur Fleck? Or ambitious in how it could challenge Phoenix’s and Phillips’ love for the character. That would have made the difference between flawed work of art and complete masterpiece. But the film decides it loves this character and sympathizes with him too much to take him further.

That being said, once more, I must compliment Phillips for what, on an artistic level he’s trying to do here. Even the Looney Tunes-esque introduction is unique and bold. If nothing else, that’s the highest compliment I can give Joker: Folie à Deux. It is absolutely unique and in a league of its own as a comic book movie. There has been nothing like it in the history of comic book cinema, and I doubt there will be anything like it ever again. Combine that with brilliant performances from Phoenix and Gaga, and you have a movie that has all of the makings of a masterpiece. However, it is also completely held back by it’s mishandling of the Harley character, the sexist pro-toxic masculinity themes, and its inability to really do something greater with the character of Arthur Fleck other than make him sing. Overall, this movie is a lot to take in, and something that will leave you conflicted for days. But having said that, you simply can’t always have great art without great controversy. For me, Joker: Folie à Deux truly represents both sides of a truly chaotic coin.

Overall Score: B –