Upon its release in October 2019, Joker was widely criticized by the media for its thematically disturbing elements of mental illness and gun violence. Despite what many mainstream outlets feared at the time, the film did not inspire mass shootings at movie theaters. The sequel has engendered a different kind of controversy: the poor critical and commercial reception attendant to a bad movie.
And it is truly bad. Joker: Folie à Deux, replete with jarring musical numbers and out-of-place character development, fundamentally does not work as a faithful continuation of the first movie.
Joker ended with the mentally unstable Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) becoming a revolutionary icon after shooting late-night show host Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro) on live television. Riots ensue, and Arthur fully embraces his Joker persona after living most of his life as a timid man. A major revelation in the film is that Arthur imagined a romantic relationship with his neighbor. As a result, you’re left wondering whether the televised execution, five previous murders, and chaos that followed were real or all in Arthur’s deranged mind. Now that the sequel is out, the ambiguity that made the original entertaining is gone.
Folie à Deux picks up with Arthur serving his time in Arkham Asylum, where he meets and falls in love with an obsessive Harley Quinn (Lady Gaga) in La La Land–like fashion. Facing the death penalty, he must convince the jury that he wasn’t in full control of his actions and place the blame on his Joker identity. Arthur’s lawyer argues he suffers from multiple-personality disorder, but by the end of the trial, Arthur admits that he invented Joker and declares himself guilty of the murder spree. The confession pleases neither his supporters nor his girlfriend, and he ends the story the same way it began: alone.
The plot is easily one of the most frustrating aspects of the film. Once again stricken by melancholy, Arthur doesn’t have much agency. Neither does he have any clearly defined goals. You understand Arthur wants to be with Harley, but beyond that, it’s unclear whether he wants to get out of Arkham or stay imprisoned for his crimes. The closest Arthur gets to taking initiative is when he fires his lawyer, represents himself in court, and dons his clown makeup for all to see.
The scenes in which he embodies Joker are particularly entertaining, including one where he cross-examines his former coworker Gary Puddles (Leigh Gill), who’s genuinely terrified of Arthur. Gary’s trauma from witnessing one of Joker’s murders tugs at the viewer’s heart, as the witness sobbingly testifies Arthur was the only person at work who never made fun of his dwarfish height. Arthur is clearly shaken by the exchange, which later influences his abandonment of Joker. Despite that excellent courtroom scene, Arthur’s turning point is arguably the plot’s fatal flaw.
Moreover, the sequel’s musical bits add nothing meaningful to the story. While the singing and dancing are decently choreographed, there is no rhyme or reason for why these scenes exist other than to distract audiences from the boring script. There’s also no consistency. Many musical numbers play out in Arthur’s mind as events unfold around him, while others take place in reality. Every time one pops up, it takes you out of the story.
Joker incorporated music skillfully yet sparingly, creating iconic moments such as the celebratory staircase dance that reflected the main character’s transformation into his alter ego. Folie à Deux clumsily drops classic cover songs anywhere and everywhere, hoping each beat sticks the landing without much concern for developing its two lead characters.
Those criticisms aside, the movie is technically well-crafted. Despite their pointless song-and-dance numbers, Phoenix and Gaga turn in good performances. Writer-director Todd Phillips competently directs the film with his own stylistic flair. And director of photography Lawrence Sher captures gorgeous cinematography again, even though his camera shots in the first outing were more memorable.
The defining problem of Folie à Deux lies in its deconstruction of the titular character. Joker is not a force of nature here. The story focuses more on Arthur as the man behind the mental illness. He’s emasculated throughout, especially toward the third act, in a number of ways (spoilers beware). It’s almost as if Phillips apologizes for how audiences empathized with Arthur in Joker and tries to make up for it five years later. The sequel also retreads familiar ground but ends in a completely different spot. Arthur reverts to his old self at the beginning and works his way back up to becoming Joker before ultimately renouncing that name.
The 2019 film resonated with fans because Arthur was a haunted human being who eventually descended into madness after being pushed too far. Without condoning the violence, you can understand where the protagonist comes from as he gets back at society for simultaneously ignoring and punishing him. It’s an unsettling yet satisfying character arc. Folie à Deux scraps that character progression in a matter of minutes.
Joker should have remained a standalone film. Not every critically acclaimed or commercially successful movie needs a sequel, especially if it will retroactively undermine the original work.