Joker was a fine movie. A wild thrill ride, and a deep character study. Unfortunately, we don’t live in a world where art is divorced from the environment around it. If all that you’re looking for in a film is something to chow popcorn and drink sugary confections to… then this still might not be for you.

The Plot

Basically Joker is about Arthur Fleck, the titular character, descending into madness following a series of horrible events that start when he’s assaulted, seemingly for no reason, at his job as a clown for hire. It is revealed that Arthur has a tic that causes him to laugh at inappropriate moments.

Things go from bad to worse as he has poor social interactions with his coworkers, his social worker, and others in the world. The only escape seems to be time spent with the one person who believes in him, and who relies on him, his mother. She and he have a complex relationship that evolves through the film, but mostly revolves around him telling her that things are going to look up and her trying her best to improve their situation through her relationship with Arthur Wayne.

Things go from bad to worse as Arthur loses his job, after exposing the fact that he’s carrying a pistol while performing his clown routine at a children’s hospital. On his way home that night he’s assaulted on the subway by three men who are apparently broker’s and financiers, and has finally been pushed far enough to snap and murders all three of them. Police only know it was a man dressed as a clown, and this sets off a political movement against Gotham’s wealthy society.

Arthur takes his neighbor, Sophie, to see him perform standup. It doesn’t go well, as he struggles to quit laughing long enough to tell any jokes, but she smiles though it and the two of them have a short but cute-seeming date. When he gets home, Arthur reads a letter his mother had written, revealing Wayne as his father.

Arthur goes to Wayne manor and has an interaction with a very young Bruce, and a much younger than we’re used to Alfred, before hurrying off home to find his mother being taken away to the hospital in wake of a stroke. The reason she had a stroke is shortly shown to be the two police officers wondering if it was Arthur who committed the crimes on the subway.

At some sort of benefit, Arthur accosts Thomas Wayne in the bathroom, demanding answers about his parentage. Wayne denies it, claiming his mom is insane and that he was adopted. After leaving there, Arthur goes to steal his mothers case file and find out for himself. In it, he learns that his mother was neglectful and abusive to him when he was young, up to being chained to a radiator and severely malnourished. He goes and kills his mother in the hospital bed, and comes home to sit on Sophie’s couch. When she doesn’t recognize him, the audience realizes the entire relationship was made up.

Arthur is invited to appear on the late night show, hosted by Murray Franklin. After hearing of his mothers passing, two of his former clown coworkers show up to comfort him, and in a fit of rage, Arthur kills one and sets the other free. Finally Arthur becomes the Joker fully, after having done his makeup and dyed his hair, he dons his former costume and heads out to his talk show appearance.

On the way, he’s spotted by the policemen who were questioning him before, and a chase happens. Joker gets onto a train filled with protesters, all wearing joker masks, and in the chaos, one of the officers shoots a protestor. Full scale rioting begins, and Joker escapes in the aftermath.

At the show, things take a turn. After being warmly received by the audience, he admits that he was the one who killed the men on the subway, and confronts Murray as one of the people who should be held responsible. When things rise to a head, he kills the host of the show. Thomas and Martha are killed in the alley, Joker is held up as a deity by the horde. A little scene where we can surmise that he kills the therapist at Arkham. Boom, end credits.

Death of the Author

If you can manage to divorce what this movie has to say about the world we live in, or what it has to say about the poor, or the mentally ill, or the wealthy, or protestors, then it’s a really awesome movie. I’m not normally shocked by content in films, and this one had me physically recoiling at gunshot violence that I normally would hardly even take note of.

There’s something Fincher-esque in the way the camera follows the Joker. The frame moves at the same pace, at the same depressed lull and manic run as the characters on screen, which gives us an increased sense of connection to the characters so framed. If you don’t believe me, check this stuff out.

Phoenix is stellar, in what ties for my favorite onscreen appearance from him, right there with 2013’s Her. The man looks and feels like the worst off patient of an asylum from the moment you see him out of clown makeup. I don’t know if he was method acting here, but the weight loss he took for the role is obvious in the films many screens of him shirtless. I gotta say, way to commit to it.

The surrounding cast is no slouch either, with Frances Conroy playing Fleck’s mother, and Robert De Niro playing the penultimate late night host Murray Franklin. Zazie Beetz was unknown to me before I watched this movie, but she stuns as Sophie. As far as I’m concerned, noteworthy performances all around.

Something that shouldn’t be understated is just how well this movie all f i t s together. The score comes in just when you want it to, underlining important moments, and offsetting ones that should be offset. The DP did a fantastic job, lighting every scene to make us stare at Phoenix’s dark eyes and deep, mournful expressions. The color palate is at times a riot, other times dark and dismal. Again, technically, about as proficient as a movie can be.

The only real stumbling block the movie has is similarity to films that came before it, like Taxi Driver or King of Comedy. I suppose there’s a ton more to be said about American media being obsessed with unlikable characters, but that’s a topic for another day.

The Problem(s)

Okay, so obviously I have some inhibitions about this movie. Arthur is a likable guy from the outset, and that’s a huge problem when he inevitably goes on a homicidal rampage at the end of the film. From the first scene of him getting jumped by a bunch of kids and beaten up for no reason, we want him to have an easier time. It seems like the world is out to get him, mostly because in this world it is. He’s clearly mentally ill, taking a fistful of medication to keep him even, and his social worker, who is clearly tuned out, makes sure to have him journal about his thoughts.

“I hope my death will make more cents than my life,” he writes, bemoaning not only his condition but the dire financial straights he finds himself in. It’s evident that this movie thinks it’s doing something positive for the people who find themselves victims of similar situations, but in reality it just feels patronizing at best and belittling at worst. Arthur takes the long walk home after a long day carrying nothing but his little bag of medication. ” The worst part about having a mental illness is people expect you to behave as if you don’t.”

Todd Phillips is the next problem. Bemoaning “woke” culture and the accountability provided by twitter and other social media sites, he sounds awful similar to that uncle at thanksgiving who complains that you can’t call disabled people retarded anymore, or that boss at work who whispers about someone being gay. What you miss isn’t an era where people could be funny, you miss the era where you could say whatever you wanted without consequence. Beyond that, there are some iffy jokes from other standup’s in the film. One of note was about how men will fuck handicapped women in hopes that no one will see? “What the actual fuck,” I whispered to myself as the joke played on the screen. Trying out new material? Yikes.

Next, the phrase “Kill the Rich” keeps appearing in the movie, and it’s among the Joker’s followers that this ideology is held high. Every time you see protests happening on screen, it seems like the movie is trying to tell you these people are unruly and dangerous and lord knows you wouldn’t want to be one of them would you? Why shouldn’t people have resentment for the super rich, the same people who cut budgets that fund social workers for people like Arthur? Rubbed me the wrong way.

And finally, the worst thing among them, is quite simply the fact that the movie is at the very least hinting at the idea that only mentally ill people go on shooting rampages and kill people. I’m mentally ill, and I gotta say I’m on a perfect streak of notfuckingdoingthat. In a world filled with people shooting one another on subway trains, with people trying to commit violent acts in movie theaters, and committing gun violence in staggering rates, do we really need another movie about a guy going off on some shooting rampage, screaming “You get what you deserve!”

I’ll take what I Deserve

Generally, I consider movies on a few simple criteria. Did the director achieve their goal? Sure, I think Phillips wanted to make people uncomfortable, and technically the movie was brilliant. Phoenix gives a tour de force and it shouldn’t be ignored. Was it enjoyable? No. The entire time I watched the movie, I kept feeling like someone was going to stand up in the theater and open fire, mostly due to the content of the film. There is a thing as to much tension. And lastly, would I see it again? Probably, but I gotta say it’s going to take a long time for my nerves to reset after that.

Overall, I think this might be the best Joker we’ve seen on screen yet. That being said, it’s the wrong time for this movie, and it left a sour taste in my mouth.

If you like this, head on over to my twitter where I live tweet minor films I watch, talk politics and theme, or just gush about D&D and miniature painting.

The best Disney movie of all time is most assuredly Aladdin. Some foolish people might argue The Lion King, for it’s emotional labor, or The Jungle Book, for it’s simplicity and beauty, and some further might even suggest a movie as bad as one of the new school computer animated films like Toy Story.

Those people are all idiots.

Aladdin is the best Disney film ever, not for any single reason, but for hundreds and hundreds of tiny ones working together. From the music, to the beautiful animation, to the setting, the characterization, the cast that set off an entire animated movie trend, all the way to the themes.

“It’s flat and immense, and the heat is intense. It’s barbaric, but hey, it’s home.” With our scene set, unlike it’s modern day counterpart, we meet a silly bazaar salesmen, who tries his best to shed some of his wares on us, through the screen. Only, at long last, to reveal our actual narrative. “It begins on a dark night, where a dark man waits, with a dark purpose.” It’s almost a full seven minutes until we meet the titular character. Everything about him screams about his character. Charming to a fault, clever, and willing to do whatever it takes to survive. Another beautiful song that somehow takes us into a brothel all while running away from a horde of Benny Hill town guards. The message is clear within the first five minutes of meeting Aladdin and Abu what their situation is, that it is good to disobey laws for the good of others, and that there is political drama in Agrabah.

The film here does a pretty good job showing a nineties audience something about a culture they might not know about. Where it blunders, it blunders in the same way that an elderly relative might. It means well in its depiction of a foreign culture to it’s assumed audience. Jasmine bemoans the cultural norm of having to be married. Here, the live action movie does a better job, explaining that arranged marriage was generally used as a negotiating tool for nations who might otherwise not be aligned. We meet the films villain, Jafar, and he shows off that not only can he do magic, but he’s using it for his own agenda against the sultan.

We get to feel like we’re a part of a little melon heist in the next scene, with Aladdin and Abu getting themselves breakfast from an inept shopkeeper. Then, in what would be a throw away scene for many films, Jasmine wonders through the market. Re watching this, it really shows what a fantastic film this really is. Even little things like a nut merchant, or the ever memorable fish merchant, go a long way towards making the world feel full and believable. Our characters don’t drive the world, but exist in it while things also go on around them.

Jasmine and Aladdin meet, because of her assumed privilege in the market she tries to give food to a starving boy, and Aladdin (along with an Oscar worthy performance from his monkey pal) save her hand. They retreat to his overlook of the city, where they both ruminate on the fact that they feel trapped in their situations. Also absent from the live action is the little cutesy interaction with Abu, humanizing him, and characterizing Aladdin even further as someone who will do whatever it takes to reach his ends.

After being caught and sent to the dungeon by the guards, Jafar shows back up in disguise (also conspicuously absent from the live action) to cheat Aladdin into chasing the lamp for him. Again, using Aladdin’s ambition for the princess to notice him as the currency for his motivation. We meet the carpet here, who is one of the best non-speaking roles in animation ever. The interplay between Abu, who communicates in chirps and baby talk, and Carpet, who only can communicate in the score and through physicality, is some of the best Laurel and Hardy style comedy you’ll find in any movie, let alone animation.

Obviously things go wrong, but not due to Aladdin for once. What follows is a tremendous black mark. The use of CGI in its infancy looked then, and especially looks now, really tremendously bad. The escape sequence is just a disaster. However, the reveal of Jafar willing to stab Aladdin for the lamp is dramatic and tense.

Finally, at almost thirty six minutes in, we meet Robin Williams Genie. What is there to say about the Genie? So much of the character is what we, film lovers, is also how we remember Robin. His particular style of mile a minute jokes, impressions, and high energy, is seemingly tailor made for animation. There couldn’t be a Genie without Robin, and only Robin can be the Genie.

Williams Genie was so important that it caused Disney to chase his success with almost every movie they made afterwards with supporting characters performed by larger than life comedians. If you want to know more about the subject Lindsay Ellis has a great youtube video about it.

What follows is a transformation for Aladdin, and then what most people consider to be the best song from this movie, Prince Ali. Genie hosts the parade and the song, with his trademarked hyperactivity. It feels grandiose, and fun, and like our down and out street rat might have finally done it. A clip of the live action shows this song, which would be smart in most cases, but just serves to showcase how small and different it is to audiences who know and love the original.

Aladdin goes on to woo the princess, who spots him for the boy she met at the market. Lies dig deeper, as Aladdin hasn’t learned his lesson yet. Eventually he makes it back to the courtyard and is captured by Jafar’s men to be drowned. Genie uses one of the wishes to save him, and confrontation is had between Aladdin and Jafar.

Genie is excited after ousting the bearded baddie, and all but begs Aladdin to free him as he promised. But, once more, Aladdin hasn’t learned his lesson and lets his ambition get the better of him. Jafar manages to steal the lamp, and throws his maniacal plans into action.

After effectively deposing the sultan and princess, Jafar decides to become an incredibly powerful sorcerer. Sending Aladdin to “the ends of the earth, WHOOPEE!” Of course, he survives to head back to Agrabah and save the day, after a nice Buster Keaton tribute. He knows he made a mistake, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. Shoulda, coulda, woulda, Mr. Din.

He arrives back home to find Jafar getting awfully familiar with Jasmine in what can only be described as a weirdly sexual garden of Eden metaphor. Jafar proves himself to be a master of wordplay, by telling Jasmine her time is up then sealing her into an hourglass, telling Abu not to toy with him then turning him into a toy, and other mind numbingly obvious puns. This guy sure is full of himself.

“Wait,” Aladdin surely must be thinking at this point, “this guy sure is full of himself.”

So, in a stunning display of full circle storytelling, Aladdin uses Jafars own ambition for power and greatness against him. Ta-da, big victory for the good guys. Laddy frees the Genie, all is right in the world.

Finally Aladdin has proven his worth, and through that we can all learn that the worth of a being isn’t tied to their material possessions or their power or their political position, but to their deeds and moral character.

But really, after all that, you might be wondering why it’s my favorite. And i don’t really have an answer, other than to say it holds a place in my heart that feels like comfort. It’s objectively good, but i don’t think that’s why I love it. I’ve certainly loved objectively bad movies. I think that the reason I love Aladdin is because it was the first time I met Robin Williams, or because it’s still the movie I want to watch when I’m sick at home all day, or maybe because I’ve seen it upwards of thirty times and I still laugh at all the jokes at nearly thirty years old. At the end of the day, whatever movie makes you feel that way, hold on to, and don’t let go.

The morning started out like most did. Steven woke up to the sound of his wife’s hair dryer, signaling she was about through her morning routine. The sun rose on the crisp fall morning and he knew it was going to be a good day.

  He decided to stay home that day, “To hell with it, I’ll catch up on the paperwork tomorrow…”

  After seeing Sylvia off to work, putting on some tea, and running through his own morning routine,

  Steven sat down to read the latest news. Top story, the state’s oldest man finished a marathon. Next, some company he’d never heard of was being sold to the government, “Third one this month,” he thought. It went on like this for hours, reading news, drinking luke-warm tea, and soaking in the stolen day.

  A loud knock on the screen door interrupted him. “Mr. Caster?” A nervous, but loud voice shouted from the front of the house. A young boy was standing there, in military camouflage, holding a paper out and flanked by two of his fellows. Before having a chance to read the paper hastily shoved into his hands, the largest of the three informed Steven of their purpose. “We’re here to search for illegal weapons and drugs, under the Good Americans Act. Cooperate, and no harm will come of you,” Steven notices the third young man holding an almost comically oversized needle, “Resist, and face consequences.”

  They push past him and into the house, and he strides out into the garage full of rage and indignation. They wouldn’t find anything in his damn house; he hadn’t believed in guns or drugs his whole life, although he wished he had now. Mind made up he went out to the deuce and a half truck parked in his driveway to speak to these punk kids supervisors. “Everyone has a boss,” he thought. As he got close, he was greeted by Chuck, a man about twelve years his senior at thirty nine. “Hey Red, didn’t know this was your place!”

  “Chuck! I haven’t seen you since the days in the factory, how the hell have you been?”

  “I’m alright, Steven. Sorry about this, it’s just a job.”

  “Who’s in charge, Chuck?”

   “The captain is down the road at another house, but Cory over there is highest ranking with us right now.”

  Steven strode over to Cory, a boy he had been in boy scouts with, whom he remembered as being overweight and curly haired. These days, he looked hardened and angry, and Steven decided not to test him directly right then and there.

  “Cory, what the hell is this about?” Cory muttered something official sounding and wouldn’t respond further, acting as though he didn’t recognize his childhood companion. Finding his confidence, Cory said, “Get the fuck back inside, Steven. You don’t want to get hurt.”

  Steven went back inside to find his home upside down. Shelves off the wall, drawers upturned in the floor, cabinets thrown open and their contents strewn across the house. They wouldn’t get away with this.

Horror movies are a time honored tradition. People of all ages huddle around screens everywhere, clutching popcorn and one another, praying to survive the terrors onscreen all while knowing they will. What drives us toward these sometimes terrifying, sometimes horrible, sometimes hilariously over the top films?

Classically, horror movies tell us precautionary tales. Freddy Krueger is literally a walking nightmare, sent to punish those who would engage in underage sex. Frankenstein is a story about the danger of judging a book by its cover and mob mentality. Get Out about the dangers of believing an indulgent lie about being in a post racial society. Some of the best reveal things about ourselves, and still others just allow storytellers to breach subjects they couldn’t otherwise.

If you had asked me when I was fifteen what makes a horror movie good, I probably wouldn’t say any of that. I would tell you which movies I thought were worth watching. I loved Spawn, and Jeepers Creepers, and Mimic. Looking back, now, I see that I probably was more in love with the visuals of the genre, rather than anything of any substance. What was really going on, through todays eyes, was me doing my level headed best to look tough and edgy to the people whose opinions I valued. Spawn had made a splash as X-rated then R-rated and I was way younger than I ought to have been to have been watching it. Jeepers Creepers had a fantastic visual realization of that feeling of driving though a place you don’t belong, with eyes and forces wishing you gone. Mimic was a great monster movie, right there with any of the greats throughout history. It was COOL to be the person who saw one of these movies and wasn’t bothered by its contents. “Dad wasn’t scared, so I certainly can’t be scared.” “Danny said he was bored, so I thought it was boring, too.”

A few years later, I was off to college and I didn’t think horror cinema was worth my time. “Saw? No, not for me, I only watch intellectual films.” Not to say there weren’t movies that got to me then as well. I remember watching The Mist, and being horrified by the ending and interested in the alternate reality it presented. Mostly I was into television at the time, and horror just wasn’t for me.

Something in me changed when I watched The Shining for the first time. I still remember finishing that movie, and being afraid to walk into the darkness of my bedroom that night. I remember having to pause the film; because the tension had reached such a pitch that I couldn’t focus anymore for fear of something in the room with me. After that I was addicted. The Village, a terrifying and tense mystery. The Conjuring, with its focus on rooting itself in reality. Oculus, with one of the cleverest concepts of any film I’ve ever seen. Crimson Peak, a love story about ghosts. The VVitch, more recently, with a return to cautionary tales and oozing cinematic style. Hereditary, about the horror of family and loss.

All that to say that last week my wife and I watched Insidious, and Insidious 2. These movies had been recommended to me countless times, by countless horror fans. I’ve always loved the fiction of H.P. Lovecraft for his weird takes on reality, and I’d been told time and time again these movies capture that mystery and style. I would disagree. The movies aren’t bad, with passable acting and some legitimately interesting camerawork alongside a very creative narrative. The movies only fall flat where all horror movies fall flat. Horror, to me, is about building suspense and letting it out. The first movie does this wonderfully. Each little piece of the story, each scene, either slowly builds the foreboding sensation that something evil is brewing; or lets all that tension loose in a rickety launch down a screaming roller coaster hill. The movie doesn’t rely overmuch on the genre trope of the boo scare, instead leaning on very obvious figures lurking at the edges of screens, or outright behind our principle actors. There is enough insanity to believe the weirdness, and enough narrative gap to leave the viewer wondering what the rules are of this crazy world. Then, you might be driven to watch the second movie.

The problem with the horror sequel, in general and here, is that there isn’t anywhere left to go. Good filmmakers and editors work really hard to create a roller coaster with bumps and hills and loops that gradually builds towards one final peak, and then lets you off at the end. With a sequel, there isn’t any more room to build up. The movie opens and starts its tricks right back where we left off. A figure lurking on the edge of screen, a piece of furniture moves on its own. But, like the audience, the characters are aware of the rules of this world now. They shouldn’t be horrified or confused as to these things anymore, but just annoyed they have to go back to ghost… busting again. While some clever things happen, narratively, that tie the first and second movies together, all in all the second movie just makes the series suffer.

This isn’t going to make me stop watching horror. Far from it, in fact. I want more weird horror movies, like Hereditary. I want more extremely real horror movies, like Get Out. I want more outright terror fests, like The Shining.

                 I just don’t want any sequels.

Game of Thrones wrapped up last night, and I certainly have some biased and unfair opinions to share.

This last season has been divisive, to say the least. Basically, it’s two story arcs crunched into six episodes. First there is the conclusion of the war with the dead, wherein the show still performed as we expected. This season opened with Sophie Turner seeming fierce in a way only briefly glimpsed in previous seasons, Kit Harrington sporting his trademark brood, and Emilia Clarke still riding around kicking asses. There were some weird moments, sure. Who doesn’t fondly look back on Dany and Jon having sexual tension on a mountain while the dragon watches from the corner? A personal favorite of mine was episode three, the darkest episode of any television show ever, particularly the scene of Jon running out and back into cover for what seemed to be a half hour to the tune of the benny hill music. We all felt deeply connected to the unraveling dragon queen who needed her Starbucks.

It may seem like I didn’t like the last season. Mostly, I didn’t. Characters were outright changed to fill out a plot satisfying ending and it rings extremely untrue to any longtime fan of the show. Despite that, there are several moments of beauty in the last season. Tyrion (Peter Dinklage) and Jamie (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) have a handful of deeply intimate and revealing scenes. The story of their brotherly love has been one of the best executed in this final slew of episodes. Episode two saw a beautiful moment where Brienne (Gwendoline Christie) finally reach the peak of her ambition and become a knight. The list goes on, and there are many true and honest character moments to be had sprinkled here and there in these episodes, but I’d say that the bad moments far outweigh the good.

In episode five, The Bells, we see Daenerys fully lose her mind and burn Kings Landing to the ground. Questionable editing choices (Why did the wall explode and we didn’t see the dragon come through it? Why did we hold for around eight seconds on a dying horse?) lead to characters that truly matter not getting the service they deserve. Varys (Conleth Hill) is killed shortly and quickly with hardly a few words to spare. Missandei (Nathalie Emmanuel) is killed in a weird display of character assassination. The people we’ve come to know and love feel more and more like chess pieces programmed into a sequence to reach the required ending positions.

However, last night’s episode got something right. We begin with Davos (Liam Cunningham), Jon, and Tyrion walking through the rubble at kings landing, surveying the mess, and letting the reality of what happened settle with them. Grey Worm (Jacob Anderson) executes some surviving Lannister soldiers and Jon broods. Moody. Tyrion has a deeply emotional scene where he wanders through the wreckage of the Red Keep, across the map room, and into the catacombs to find his sister and brothers corpses, entangled in loving embrace. Emmy worth performance from Dinklage, who I would say is the true standout of the entire show. Things go off the rails a bit as we see Arya (Maisie Williams) doing what looks an awful lot like stalking prey while Jon and Tyrion prepare to confront their queen. Dany has a revealing speech, basically to the effect of never wanting to stop killing in the name of her ideals. This speech was what was missing from the previous episode, and truly reveals her characters unhinged point of view. Tyrion quits his job like we’ve all always wanted to.

What follows are two scenes where Tyrion and Dany battle for Jon’s soul. I suppose these two scenes were satisfying for some, but I just don’t think Kit Harrington’s heart was in it. He kills Clarke, as pretty much everyone figured he would. Drogon melts the chair… So that’s why we couldn’t afford elephants. There is some discussion about who will rule, decisions are made, and Tyrion gets to shine once more. After a stirring speech about the world and the importance of books, har har wink wink at the audience, Bran (Issac Hempstead Wright) is elected leader. Poor kid, he’s just not very interesting on screen and loses the scene to bigger presences. Some other things happen, which don’t really matter and we see what should be the final glimpses of most of the characters. The Starks all say goodbye to each other, and Brienne gets a scene where she literally decides what history will remember of her true love Jamie. Then we’re treated to a nicely rounded scene that has Tyrion directing the small council. Pan out and roll credits as these new rulers argue over what the best way to do things is. Except the show doesn’t end there. Yuck.

Maybe it was the entire bottle of wine I drank, but a couple of moments in this episode worked their magic on me. Maybe I just want to remember a show we all were so desperately invested in better than the horror show that has been fan reaction in the form of internet uproar and petitions for reshoots. But maybe, just maybe, the show delivered on a promise. They delivered us an ending even the author hasn’t yet. Maybe we shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.