Why Do a Joker Musical If You Don’t Want to Do a Joker Musical?

As a lifelong aficionado of both the dark, brooding narratives of Scorsese and the glitzy, grandiose spectacles of classic Hollywood musicals, I found myself both intrigued and disheartened by Todd Phillips’ latest offering, “Folie à Deux.” The film, a sequel to the Oscar-winning “Joker,” promised a daring foray into the world of musicals, a genre that has always held a special allure for me. However, much like a clown who refuses to fully embrace the circus, this film failed to deliver on its promise.


This past Monday morning, Warner Bros. faced the music. To a much worse extent than projected, Joker: Folie à Deux is dead on arrival — a costly flop that’s proving to be even less popular with audiences than it has been with critics. (If you think the film’s Rotten Tomatoes score is bad, wait till you see what CinemaScore participants gave it on the way out of theaters over the weekend.) The likeliest explanation for this box-office fiasco might be the simplest: The crowd that made Todd Phillips’ violent, fashionably gritty origin story Joker a billion-dollar sensation was probably a bit less keen to see a movie in which the clown prince of crime sings and dances like Fred Astaire. In an age in which musicals are a tough sell (and often misleadingly sold with the film’s songs left out of the trailers), there was no guarantee people would flock to one set in Gotham City.

It’s quite intriguing that Phillips decided to risk his sequel’s commercial success for a major genre shift. If he had fully embraced this change, it could have been impressive. However, the irony lies in the fact that while “Folie à Deux” offers enough musical elements to disappoint both comic-book fans and those with allergies to Broadway – given that Batman’s main villain expresses feelings instead of killing, which is unusual for a Batman movie – the film approaches each musical number with a hesitant, almost shy, attitude, as if it were uncomfortable going all out like Sondheim. Phillips has created a spectacle based on popular music that is daring in concept but surprisingly cautious and timid in its execution.

In the original “Joker,” Joaquin Phoenix’s character, Arthur Fleck, is portrayed as a man with one foot rooted in the imaginary world within his mind. This sets up a logical progression where his delusions escalate into a full-blown spectacle reminiscent of show business. When watching “Folie à Deux,” you can’t help but anticipate Todd Phillips to reach for the grandiosity. The film doesn’t fully embrace its musical aspect until about a half-hour in, when Arthur, under the influence of Lady Gaga’s Harley “Lee” Quinzel, starts dancing in the common area of Arkham Asylum, expressing his emotions through the lyrics of Stevie Wonder’s “For Once in My Life.” This fantastical sequence, presented as a single, continuous shot, seems like the initial step out of the grim realism of “Joker” and into a more vibrant, emotional world; it’s as if the melodious musical within Arthur were just beginning to awaken, first as a small, personal daydream of singing and dancing.

In essence, the musical sequences in the movie “Folie à Deux” don’t really build up much further. They are largely understated and surprisingly lackluster, consisting mainly of Arthur and Lee singing to each other or to themselves, often barely audible, like novice lounge singers struggling with stage fright. It seems that Phoenix, the Academy Award winner, may not have been born for musical theater; despite his convincing portrayal of singing Johnny Cash songs in “Walk the Line,” there’s no indication in “Folie à Deux” that he possesses the vocal power required for such performances. On the other hand, Gaga does have the talent, but it’s seldom given a chance to shine; only occasionally does she get to showcase her abilities, such as during her bold rendition of “If My Friends Could See Me Now.” The majority of the songs emerge softly and hesitantly from the actors’ mouths.

These songs, by the way, are exceptionally elegant – a playlist comprising hallowed ballads and timeless classics from artists such as Frank Sinatra, The Bee Gees, the Carpenters, and Burt Bacharach, along with musical numbers drawn from MGM productions of the 1950s and 1960s. The collection follows a logical sequence; it seems as though Arthur could have grown up listening to this music. However, there’s an unusual harmony between their sweetness and Arthur’s occasional violent madness: Those expecting Phillips to jarringly reinterpret such standards (similar to the Donovan scene in Scorsese’s Goodfellas or the “Singin’ in the Rain” scene from A Clockwork Orange) might be taken aback by the earnestness of the performances. The film’s use of musical irony doesn’t extend beyond a troubled character singing sugary pop hits from mid-20th century.

As a movie enthusiast, I’d put it this way: In “Folie à Deux,” the visual spectacle isn’t over-the-top, but it dangles just outside the realm of extravagance. The stage settings are tastefully lavish, reminiscent of Vincente Minnelli’s “An American in Paris” or Francis Ford Coppola’s ambitious yet financially challenging “One From the Heart.” The rooftop waltz scene between Arthur and Lee in a grand, moonlit hotel evokes this kind of dreamy, cinematic magic. However, these grandiose moments are fleeting, leaving one craving more. A hint at a love story between them, akin to Sonny & Cher’s variety show, is intriguingly suggested but not fully developed. The dance sequences are sparse, the choreography minimal, with some numbers taking place under a single spotlight on a darkened soundstage and others focusing tightly on the actors as they sing.

In my perspective, minimalism in this project was deliberate, much like the sparse yet profoundly moving musical piece by Lars von Trier titled “Dancer in the Dark”, starring Björk. I can understand that “Folie à Deux” seems reluctant to immerse fully into the lavishness that the musical genre offers, perhaps reflecting Arthur’s diminished sense of joy. However, it could be argued that the lack of full commitment to the musical form is more a reflection of the director’s creativity rather than Arthur’s. Is it a question of courage, or perhaps a lack thereof? The statement “These musical sequences are half-hearted on purpose” might serve as a convenient shield for a director unwilling to fully actualize the potential of his audacious concept.

Despite its aim to portray realistic character development, the initial Joker film surprisingly veered towards the style of a grand production. It boasted superior musical numbers, whether intentionally or not by director Phillips. Consider the eerie private tai-chi ballet performed by Arthur post-murdering subway thugs – a scene that masterfully builds tension between the grim reality of his actions and the joy in his imagination, heightened by Hildur Guðnadóttir’s chilling score. The film is also known for its iconic stair dance sequence set to Gary Glitter’s “Rock and Roll Part 2” – a wildly energetic victory dance of a disturbed character embracing his perceived coolness. A sequel like Folie à Deux might envy even one scene with that vibrant energy. It’s not hard to visualize, in fact, a bolder jukebox musical inspired by it. A darker, more twisted version of Moulin Rouge.

if you’re going to make a grand Joker musical, why not commit fully?

In the climax of “Folie à Deux”, the stairs become a heartbreaking finale for the delusional romance between Arthur and Lee. This scene is particularly moving because it challenges not only the false victory portrayed in the film Joker, but also the fantasies these characters have about igniting the world together in Folie à Deux. Towards the end, Arthur begs desperately, “I don’t want to sing anymore,” as Lady Gaga delivers a mournful rendition of “That’s Entertainment”, a song she sang more enthusiastically earlier in the movie. This is one moment where the sequel strikes an emotional chord. However, the film could have been even more poignant if it had the courage to fully embrace its own themes, transforming into the grand musical it hints at. As any skilled clown would say, you must fully commit to your performance.

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2024-10-11 21:56