Small disclaimer: I haven’t seen Joker or its newly released sequel. However, the sequel has garnered mixed reviews so far. From what I understand, the first film focuses on a character who adopts a Joker-like persona—a mentally ill individual who transforms and commits violent, shocking acts. This is odd because the film is called Joker but isn’t actually about the Joker. The character is inspired by the Joker, even borrowing some of his iconic look. It was a fresh take on the character, but only in name; unlike the comic book Joker, Arthur Fleck never aspired to be the “Prince of Crime.” Though I haven’t watched it, this is the impression I have of the first movie. Todd Phillips’ grounded vision of Gotham, much like Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy, offers a more realistic take on the mythos. Just to be clear, it’s called Joker, but it’s not about the Joker, even though it borrows from the source material.
Maybe that’s why it should have had a different title—something more reflective of its intent, rather than evoking expectations of a traditional comic book film.
I never had any desire to see Joker or Joker: Folie à Deux. So, what changed my mind? The answer is the negative reaction to the sequel—it made me curious. Reports of people walking out during screenings caught my attention. How could a film that made $1 billion have a sequel that fails to match that? People have told me the movie is bad, which only piques my curiosity further. Based on what I know of the plot, it seems to be a darker, more sombre film than the original. The first movie was an action-packed drama-thriller, while this one is described as a musical courtroom thriller. Dealing with the consequences of the first film is something rarely seen in movies these days. I can see why this might divide audiences, especially those expecting a conventional, action-packed Joker. That choice is also part of the reason I want to see it—it seems like a very bold move from conservative Hollywood. The marketing seems to completely avoid highlighting that shift in tone.
Before I watch Joker: Folie à Deux, I need to watch Joker—the film that looks like him but isn’t really about him.
Joker Review
At its core, the film is rather unpleasant to watch—it’s about witnessing terrible things happen and watching a man spiral into decline. Arthur always seems just one breakdown away from doing something truly dangerous. We soon get a glimpse into his mental health issues, and it’s clear that the support he’s given isn’t nearly enough for what he needs. Everything he does feels like a performance—smiling and laughing to mask the pain. The violence in this movie feels personal, and you can’t help but feel bad for everyone involved. Joaquin Phoenix is outstanding in this role, not just following the script but embodying the character fully. His facial expressions change on the fly, giving off an air of menace followed by moments of guilt, which makes his performance deeply unsettling yet captivating. Anybody who has struggled with mental health issues can see part of themselves in Arthur. That’s what makes it so compelling. Compared to other DC comic movies, this is far lighter on action, focusing more on the drama. Each action has consequences, slowly leading to his further decline and drift into insanity. Everything that happens adds up. The film takes on a much darker tone, shifting from portraying a somewhat sympathetic character to a more menacing one. Yet you can still sense that Arthur exists underneath it all, which makes it even more chilling.
Unwittingly, Arthur becomes the Joker, making this a Joker origin story that’s not really about the Joker but uses his image. Yes, that includes the Batman origin story, linking him to the Joker indirectly by influencing the events that lead to the death of Bruce Wayne’s parents. To me, it’s obvious that Arthur never wanted to be the Joker. Society as a whole helped create and give him that name. I don’t quite buy the idea that this movie isn’t about the Joker when it borrows so much from the source material. It’s a refreshing, self-contained story that works, but it doesn’t leave much room for a follow-up. I’m not sure what to think about it—how do you continue Arthur’s story? Arthur in prison, perhaps? Do you fully make him the Joker, or do you continue his long drift towards becoming the Joker? Sorry—not the Joker, but someone who looks more and more like the Joker. Maybe they could take a different route, like exploring Harley Quinn treating Arthur, only to descend into insanity herself.
Joker: Folie à Deux
Before watching it, what intrigued me was the shift in genre to a musical thriller, reflecting Arthur’s ongoing struggle with trauma. If you watch Joker, you’ll notice that Arthur is a performance- and theatre-driven character who wants to be a comedian. So, it’s not a stretch to shift the focus towards a more musical element. While I’m unsure if “eccentric” is the right word to describe him, his tragic, shock humour remains central to his character.
My expectations going in were pretty low, but I think it’s a far stronger movie than the first. The musical set pieces replace any action scenes, breaking up the film and adding a much lighter tone to an otherwise dark movie. However, anyone describing this as a full-on musical is misrepresenting it—the musical sections are a small part of the film. For Arthur, it feels like he’s constantly on stage, with the singing and dancing serving as performances to shield himself. He’s not a singer, and that’s deliberate—his eccentricity shines through as he clings to this tragic, self-imposed role.
Some might argue that this film doesn’t progress his character much, but it’s clear he’s still resisting fully becoming the Joker. The institutional abuse he endures is implied rather than shown, but he suffers more from the consequences of his own actions. Yet, he never fully becomes the monster people expect. Instead, he offers a performance when things get tough. Some of the most powerful scenes are those where you see Arthur’s vulnerability; he’s just a scared man, and the film often feels like he’s being dragged along by forces beyond his control.
The pacing is much stronger in this movie. It feels like Arthur’s dream about being in prison, with the musical sections representing his fantasy escape. His character arc makes sense, and by the end, he finally seems to regain control, only for it to be taken away again. If you watch closely, the entire film hints at this—foreshadowing the ending multiple times, which is why I think it’s a dream. Lee’s character, waking up from the same dream, is a truly painful moment, and it explains the title perfectly. I’m not sure if Lee is meant to be a metaphor for the audience, but it certainly feels that way.
This isn’t a bad movie—in fact, I think it’s far better overall than the first. That might be an unpopular opinion, but it feels more cohesive and enjoyable. The challenge of expanding such a self-contained story is significant, but Folie à Deux manages to do it well.
Conclusion
Overall, I enjoyed Joker: Folie à Deux far more than the first film. While it was never going to appeal to mainstream comic book fans, the original’s success still baffles me. This sequel feels more like a continuation of Arthur’s story—a fitting conclusion to his character arc—rather than a typical sequel. The film defies expectations in many ways, from its musical elements to its avoidance of traditional fan service. Even though I’m still puzzled by the decision to call this series Joker when it feels so different from the comic book character, the direction Todd Phillips takes makes sense within this unique vision of Gotham and Arthur Fleck. It may not satisfy everyone, but as a character study and a bold cinematic experiment, Folie à Deux stands out as a compelling and well-crafted follow-up.