Joker – 2019
I grew up at a Sierra sawmill. We mountain kids developed strong brand allegiances and we would argue and occasionally resort to fisticuffs to protect the honor of our chosen trade name. Ford or Chevy? Ford! Jif or Skippy? Skippy! DC or Marvel? DC! Once a month the tiny general store across the creek received a shipment of new comics. I’d empty my piggy bank and be first in line when the store opened gathering up Superman, Superboy, Supergirl, Aquaman, Wonder Woman, Justice League and Batman comics at 10¢ each. A reading orgy commenced. This is the era I met Batman’s nemesis, the Joker, originally created as a homicidal serial killer but who morphed into a goofy, ridiculous, thieving trickster when in 1954 the newly formed Comic Code Authority descended !SWOOP! on the comic book world, promoting mass burnings and demanding a ban on carnage and sexual innuendo so young males would be deterred from !BOOM! juvenile delinquency and HUH? homosexuality. !ZAP! Fast forward 50 years and meet Joaquin Phoenix, DC’s 2019 Joker and we’ve circled back to the beginning, Joker as Gotham’s homicidal serial killer. Phoenix’s psychotic channeling of Arthur Fleck, the Joker, is so nightmarish and god awful, skin-crawling creepy !POW! that we may have to brace ourselves for a revival of the Comic Code Authority. !SMASH! Arthur, the abused clown, writhes and slithers into the role of maniacal abuser, flowing into twisted, contorted dancing to navigate demented, disturbing, and delusional episodes. !SPLAT! The more whiteface and rouge Arthur applies and the longer and more grotesque the dance, the greater the madness and mayhem ahead. Consider yourself warned. !WHAM! Mark my words, if the stodgy Academy can shake off their anti-comic book/graphic novel bias, Joaquin Phoenix will win Best Actor for his raw interpretive performance of insanity. !KABOOM!
