When you're smilin'
The whole world smiles with you, baby
The lyrics of the classic song When You're Smiling seem to be born solely for Joker when, after the first part, the bloody smile that the clown paints on his lips turns all of Gotham into a giant circus, chanting his name. Skipping down the stairs of morality's abyss, Joker completes his journey of corruption more convincingly than ever behind the bars of Arkham Asylum. A perfect ending for such an iconic character.
Thus, I must admit I was a bit surprised and even disappointed when director Todd Phillips used the sequel titled FOLIE À DEUX to try and reverse that dance, throwing Arthur Fleck into a test where he must question the moments when he pulled the trigger. So, what does this journey of picking up the last bits of humanity in this character say about ego and repentance? Todd Phillips has two hours and 18 minutes to prove his vision to the audience.
From here, what viewers need to prepare for in Joker Part 2 are lengthy and frequent imaginary sequences. The film is almost entirely set inside the asylum’s cells, lacking the rats, piled-up garbage, or filthy alleys, replaced instead by endless hallucinations inside the clown's mind. If you're hoping for a return to Gotham, with metaphors reflecting social class and injustice, you’re likely to be disappointed because the character’s battle now is a battle in his mind. It’s a search for answers, questioning whether the real personality is the Joker, worshiped like a saint, or the weak, scrawny Arthur.
This creates the first issue: a world lacking depth. The audience's sympathy for Arthur Fleck largely stemmed from the shared frustration over Gotham's injustices. The absence of figures like Thomas Wayne preaching reform makes the film lose a valuable contemporary perspective. Especially after the first film, where the clown had garnered a large fan base, but in part two, this cult becomes humorously weak, making noise rather than having any real impact on the film's critical decisions, except for one outburst in the final act.
It’s unclear whether director Todd Phillips is mocking the fact that the worshiped god-like Joker is actually just an empty figure, or if he has entirely forgotten the marginalized people that Joker represented. But even if it's one or the other, ignoring the main factor leading to Joker's downfall sometimes renders him ordinary.
Moreover, with the setting confined to Arkham, scenes where Arthur gets beaten up won’t carry the same weight as when he was left battered in an alleyway. This is because we already know the place is full of insane criminals and thuggish guards. I had assumed that making the hospital the focus would serve as a critique of the poor conditions the city government uses to treat those with psychological issues, but even so, neither the inmates around Arthur nor the guards with batons are explored deeply. There are no images of the ruling class, nor any exploration of the lives of the common people or the realities of Gotham. In truth, Folie à Deux lacks the depth that the film five years ago did so well.
Besides that, does anyone else find the guards incredibly short-sighted for laying a hand on Arthur right before his trial? Isn’t it obvious that with just one word to the media from Joker, hundreds of his extremist worshippers would hunt down those guards? Where was that crazy mob when their saint needed them? Everything gets even more ridiculous during Arthur’s trial, where, as the judge said, Joker has truly turned the courtroom into a circus.
Sure, we can understand that the film is trying to criticize the media through the repeated imagery of televisions and the press constantly circling like hungry vultures. They don’t care who the murderer is, guilty or innocent, they just want Joker on the air to get views. But in the end, due to a confined setting that lacks connection to the broader world, the film becomes one-dimensional. It simply shows Joker in the dirtiest place possible, surrounded by the worst people possible, beaten as much as possible, leaving him with no choice but to cling to his delusional dreams.
The second issue, and a sadder one, is Joker’s inner self—the very aspect the film sacrificed all other elements to focus on—still wasn’t portrayed effectively. To embellish the scenes of breaking from reality, Todd Phillips decided to introduce the musical genre. For me personally, the genre crossover wasn’t a problem while watching, because as we remember, Arthur has always had music in his soul. It makes total sense that he would dream of singing whatever he wanted alongside a beautiful woman. The only problem is that Todd Phillips himself may not be strong in this area.
In a way that’s unclear whether it was accidental or intentional, all the songs in the film are performed in the same style: beginning with a slow-motion sequence, followed by the melancholic voice of Lady Gaga or Joaquin, accompanied by cigarette smoke during their first shared moment of madness. The romantic atmosphere was done very well, mixing tenderness with sorrow. The second and third times this pattern appears, it's still somewhat acceptable. But by the fourth or fifth time this formula repeats, I lost my patience and just wished the tempo would pick up so the dance routine would end sooner.
And yet, aside from the titular song and the scene we saw in the trailer where he smashes the judge's head with a hammer, nearly all the other songs are love songs, conveying only one message: Joker’s feelings for Harley Quinn, that she is the new light of his life. Singing a lot doesn’t automatically make a musical film, and what the movie lacks is the ability to use those melodies to push the story forward.
The entire second act of the film shows little to no progression, circling around the same repetitive, delusional dances just to highlight the contrast between harsh reality and the desire for ordinary love, between the indecision of becoming Joker or returning to Arthur. These are all things the audience already knows by heart after watching the first movie. So why add a bunch of classic songs to reiterate the same old issues? Didn’t Arthur already agonize over these dilemmas before fully embracing the Joker persona? What purpose does this second part serve with all of this?
The only praiseworthy aspect of the film’s musical sequences is the breathtaking, painting-like visuals, the carefully crafted color compositions, and the usual 10-out-of-10 performance from Joaquin Phoenix. He continues to prove himself as one of the most talented actors of his generation, and regardless of how poorly the film might score, the rounds of applause are something this star absolutely deserves.
As for Lady Gaga’s role, let's set aside her appearance or acting skills for now, because before we even get to those, her character is already underwhelming from the script itself. Marketed as a key figure in the second part, Harley Quinn is surprisingly shallow in her development. She shows up as a fan of Joker, falling in love at first sight, and just like that, forgets to even introduce herself. The title Folie à Deux refers to shared psychotic disorder, where one person is affected by the psychological issues of the other. In the film, it’s likely referring to Folie simultanée, meaning two individuals who are independently psychotic, but when close, their delusions start to align. Unlike the theories suggesting that Joker would drive Harley Quinn mad, it seems she’s already insane, perhaps even more so than her idol.
This makes Joker's lover a conflicting role in relation to the film’s goals. Why? Because, as we’ve seen, Arthur Fleck is a very passive character, even in the first part. So, if even in the battle within his own mind, he is dependent on Harley Quinn—if his journey to find his identity is dragged from place to place, and even his madness must be borrowed—how much of his final transformation in the last act are we supposed to sympathize with? How are we supposed to view this Joker if he only changes because someone else tells him that the other personality is wrong, or flawed? A good character doesn’t necessarily need to stand on the side of righteousness, but they must have conviction.
Joker is constantly passed around from one person to another, and he looks so small. Strip away the makeup, and Lady Gaga's Harley Quinn isn’t much different from Sophie—another woman who, for most of her screen time, exists in the one-dimensional imagination of Fleck. Two lost souls in love in a lost film.
Speaking of the final act, it seems Todd Phillips became aware that his 2019 film had been misunderstood as promoting violence, which is why we now have an ending directly inspired by the Breaking Bad series, delivering a much clearer message about the cost of crime. For me, the last 15 minutes were well-executed. It shows us an endless cycle: for all the chaos Joker brings to Gotham, the city returns just as much karmic retribution. It’s straightforward, easy to grasp, and almost impossible to misinterpret.
If I reveal more, it would be a spoiler, so I’ll leave that for you to experience in theaters. In the end, films like Joker require subtlety because even a slight misstep can cause the message to be distorted. Personally, I find it somewhat narrow-minded to depict a life without a single good person or a society that offers no opportunity. If I had to give an example, Capernaum from Lebanon also tells the story of lives at rock bottom, but hope is always flickering in the eyes of the children, giving the lessons we learn a completely different tone.
Unfortunately, I must be blunt—watching a character lying beaten on the ground, forced into a hopeless situation, with a soundtrack behind him singing, “Well, that’s life,” is not a message I can agree with. You might find this review too harsh, but for me, Joker films are important because, both on screen and in reality, there are many who idolize him, speak his words, do what he does, and believe in what he believes.
So while I do acknowledge the bravery of the team for taking such a bold new direction, it’s difficult to call this second installment of the Clown Prince of Crime a successful experiment.
As Kafka on the Shore writes
Everything begins with the imagination. Our responsibility begins with the power to imagine.
Comparing life to a stage, it seems Arthur Fleck has taken on the role of Joker beyond his reach this time, and Todd Phillips is unable to fully take responsibility for his dream and vision.