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'Joker' - A Journey into Mental Illness

Loneliness and Laughter

By Christopher DonovanPublished 3 years ago 7 min read
2

My mood was okay. Not brilliant, not awful - I was okay.

However, given that I was only 'okay,' I also needed to be careful. Fill my mind with happy, joyous things, I'd remain good. Cram it full of darkness, and I only had myself to blame if I dipped.

Thus, watching 'Joker' probably wasn't the wisest step, mental-health-wise.

It's a jackhammer, slap-in-the-face experience. Even more so, if you, like the film's anti-hero, have 'issues' to manage. It'd probably affect you even if you began the film on your own metaphorical Cloud Nine, and had never flirted with poor mental health once in your life.

But, for me, not quite on Cloud Nine, and with a smorgasbord of mental health conditions, it left me shaken. It's a dark, brutal, unforgiving ride.

And, quite frankly, it's also pretty amazing.

As a piece of film-making, it's bold, bravura, and risky. Todd Phillips may not yet be on David Fincher's level when it comes to making darkness look beautiful, but, under Phillips' gaze, I've rarely seen ugliness look so stunning. So interesting.

You are more likely to see Travis Bickle prowling Phillips' Gotham, than Michael Keaton in a rubber-suit. Gone are Tim Burton's mock-Gothic leanings; instead, the Gotham in 'Joker' is recognizable for anyone who's ever lived in London, or New York. It's grimy, decaying, and the perfect home for Joaquin Phoenix's damaged loner.

In terms of acting, Phoenix deserved every award and accolade he got. Given Jack Nicholson's and Jared Leto's histrionics in previous incarnations, it would've been easy for Phoenix to play to the gallery when he took over the role of the 'Clown Prince of Crime.' After all, it's a role ripe for melodrama.

But, he doesn't. He's surprisingly - and brilliantly - low-key.

Granted, as the movie progresses, and as Arthur becomes subsumed by his villainous alter-ego, Phoenix's performance rises a few notches. But, there's no over-acting, we never stray into the realms of 'camp.' Even when the Joker has fully taken hold, we never lose sight of the lost, lonely, and damaged man behind the make-up.

And, whilst we're briefly talking about acting, it was nice to see Robert de Niro doing so for the first time in a while.

Murray Franklin may not have the complexity of his greatest roles, but we saw the human behind the chat-show host, and - what could have easily be a one-note cipher existing purely for plot development - became a character who, much like the film's protagonist, meant this Gotham was populated with recognizable humans, instead of mere cartoon grotesques.

And, that last point is - for me - the film's greatest achievement: For a blockbuster, and for a film that has its own fair-share of dazzling set-pieces, 'Joker' is ultimately a film about humanity. Specifically, mental health.

A Dark Heart

The three films that make up Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight Trilogy may be superior pieces of cinema, but - like most of the director's work - take away the quasi-intellectualism, and the sheer impressive scale of the film-making involved, and there's an innate emptiness at their heart.

The heart at the middle of 'Joker' may be pitch-black, but there's undeniably one there. And it's an incredibly damaged one: Arthur Fleck.

Arthur is one of the biggest 'losers' to ever be put on the big-screen. He lives with his mother (a soul as damaged as he is), has no real meaningful relationships in his life, and works as a rent-a-clown.

He's also, obviously, very, very ill.

Are we ever implicitly told what mental illness Arthur Fleck has? No.

Do we need to know? Again, no.

And I actually salute Phillips and his screenwriters for this.

Despite the manuals, mental illness is uniquely personal: Although each condition shares a number of universal symptoms, how each person experiences them is different.

It's why so many films about mental illness don't work: I've watched many things in which it's been spelled out a character has, for example, Borderline Personality Disorder, but have sat there thinking, "Yeah, I know that's a common symptom, but I don't do that... nor that..."

The danger is that the actors (or rather, the character they're playing) are just working their way through a series of symptoms. But, ironically, the more we're told (and shown) about specific symptoms, the less interesting it becomes. It's no more than the visual equivalent of the latest edition of the DSM.

And that's just dull.

Because those symptoms are the least interesting part of mental illness. Why you have them is where the true fascination lies. And, although Arthur's actions become increasingly harder to justify, we never fail to see the motivation behind them.

And, again, the film is brave on this count.

Arthur's personal history is a tragic one; it's easy to understand his damage given his upbringing. But...

The world he lives in is just a big a cause.

Isolation and Brutality

Phillips' visuals have already established that this Gotham is a cold, brutal, and uncaring place. But, this is reduced to a more personal level when we see how Arthur tries to exists within it.

It's a world where he's summarily judged, mocked, and bullied, by strangers. Even when he hands them the card he carries around to explain his sudden, uncontrollable bursts of giggling, he still receives no compassion.

For anyone who's tried to explain their mental illness to another person, this is a common feeling.

It's a world in which Arthur is told, bluntly, by a social worker, there's no money left to continue supporting him; when she tells him, "they don't care about people like you," it reminded me of meetings I have had with mental health professionals. Like me, Arthur is ill, but not ill enough to be given help. His recovery will fall on his shoulders alone.

Given that we know full well Arthur possesses neither the personal skills, nor support network, to manage any sort of recovery (or even any sort meaningful existence), he's a walking time-bomb from that moment onward.

He's alone, broken, and without help; he's either going to drown or explode.

And this where the, previously deified Wayne family, come in.

We've always known Gotham is a Hell-hole; if it wasn't, Batman would've gone to another city. But, we've always been told that, despite their wealth, the Wayne's were a positive force, full of philanthropic intent. However...

What if they weren't? What if they were actually part of the problem? What if their wealth had come, as so wealth much does, by exploiting the people on the rungs below them on the social ladder?

Historically, Bruce's father, Thomas, has been painted as a saint; in 'Joker' we see a capitalist whose attitude towards the working class makes much more sense. In two of the movies most under-stated scenes, Arthur speaks to the family butler, and then the head of the Wayne clan himself: The contempt he's treated with shows just how seriously the people in charge take his concerns, and anguish.

If the people who run this world don't care, what chance has Arthur got? What chance does anyone like him got?

And, before anyone gets upset with me, no - I am not saying that faced with such uncaring brutality it is only right that Arthur paints his face white, and becomes Batman's sworn nemesis. Quite frankly, Arthur's actions are not justifiable.

However, they are understandable. There's a huge difference.

And it's that understanding that sets 'Joker' apart. An understanding that, although metal illness is a uniquely personal experience, it does not exist in isolation: it's also a product of the world the individual lives in, and it's then further shaped, even more, by that very same world.

If we create societies like Gotham, places where compassion, and understanding, are in short supply, then we'll keep on fostering the mental illnesses that thrive - like parasites - within those environments.

Did I enjoy the film? Honestly, I'm not sure. I'm not certain it's a film you do enjoy; endure is probably closer to the truth. However, I'll watch it again. And again.

It's grim, unsettling, and is an unflinching insight into a troubled mind. Into mental illness. And that's one of the main reasons why it's so, so good.

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movie review
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About the Creator

Christopher Donovan

Hi!

Film, theatre, mental health, sport, politics, music, travel, and the occasional short story... it's a varied mix!

Tips greatly appreciated!!

Thank you!!

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