Joker 2 | Who Failed Us: The Joker, or Hollywood?

Hello Peliplaters!

Have you seen Joker 2? I posted a critical discussion about it a few days ago. To be honest, I'm still disappointed by it. I'd been looking forward to it for a long time—even saving money to see it in IMAX to show my support. But in the end, it brought me less satisfaction than a bar of chocolate. Perhaps there's an unspoken extra bit to that famous Forrest Gump quote: "Your next piece of chocolate might be sweet, or it might be bitter."

Joker 2 isn't just a piece of bitter chocolate; it's sour too.

After calming down, I realized: in terms of chocolate metaphors, Joker 2 doesn't have a stale or moldy taste, but perhaps it just doesn't suit my palate. Todd Phillips is a bold director. Unlike other directors who aim to let sequels inherit the spirit of their original, Phillips's rebellious creativity pushed him to make one that completely deviates from the norm. The problem? His approach was too radical. He shaped Joker 2 into a tragedy, making it a bitter piece of "chocolate" to swallow for many and dealing a heavy blow to fans who were captivated by the spirit of rebellion in the original Joker.

Every fan knows the Joker is a villain who's been expelled from a lawful society. As law-abiding citizens striving to maintain moral order despite life's difficulties, we don't want to see the Joker ascending to the throne and avenging past miseries by destroying everything. We not only like the Joker, but also appreciate his adversary, Batman. In the conflict between these two, what we really want to see is someone addressing the corrupt system in his own way.

So, when all of Arthur Fleck's struggles come to nothing in incomprehensible twists, the audience can't help but curse loudly.

Anger can be exhausting. Joker 2 is indeed terrible, but after venting my frustration, I've realized there's something worth reflecting on in this whole matter.

Firstly, I don't believe this movie is the result of an artist's unchecked willfulness, though many fans might think so. As a seasoned director, Phillips clearly knew what he was doing. This isn't a film he independently funded and shot; the lengthy production process inherently required a director who could ensure the story remains consistently convincing. As a sequel to a phenomenon, the preparation for Joker 2 must have been meticulous.

Furthermore, in terms of craftsmanship, the movie is of exceptional quality. If we momentarily set aside our subjective opinions about its story, we'd find that every frame is masterfully executed. The cinematography and art design are striking, the stage effects and music are mesmerizing, and the characters—from leads to extras—all possess impressive details.

It's not a masterpiece, but it's undoubtedly a work completed with passion and dedication.

If I were Phillips, I'd likely pitch my plan like this: one, what fans truly revere isn't a mortal body, but an immortal symbol; two, everyone has an inner Joker.

Based on the first point, transforming the Joker sequel into a musical is a clever idea. Music is the incantation of modern civilization. Whether it's a demon's whisper or an angel's gospel, it can materialize abstract spiritual symbols through individual notes.

Regarding the second point, if anyone can become the Joker, Arthur's protagonist status loses significance. Amid the masses, the individual becomes trivial. While the performance still needs Arthur's involvement, he's merely the spark that ignites the prairie fire; once the fire is set, the sustenance of the spark becomes irrelevant.

This plan is undeniably ambitious and exciting to contemplate. The issue is that it also challenges today's mainstream culture. Successful challenges spark change, but if they veer slightly off course, a well-intentioned challenge can become a provocation.

Evidently, Joker 2 has crossed that line into provocation.

In the 21st century, we worship celebrities as fervently as people in the previous decade did. The difference is that the development of virtual networks has infinitely narrowed the distance between us and the concept of "celebrity." Hollywood's star system is in decline. We no longer follow a model of ideal living, but freely imitate. We have enough tools at our disposal to make ourselves the center of our own lives. Pacifists rack their brains to find a unique way of life in order to avoid competition. This way of life should ideally be irreplicable, so we can completely be ourselves.

People are increasingly averse to failure, while increasingly fond of being accepted and encouraged. Living our preferred way of life, any criticism of us can be perceived as reproaches by people who don't understand us. We can absorb everything we like as part of ourselves, and we can block out everything we dislike. Through such daily screening, we become absolute authorities on our own identity.

Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Any judgment might seem hasty. What I can be sure of is that Phillips must detest this phenomenon, even to the point of using a sequel that can potentially promise huge commercial success to deliver a heavy blow to people in a very preachy manner.

Anyone attempting to imitate the Joker will be mercilessly mocked in Joker 2. Arthur is no longer a legend; the ending of Joker 2 even blatantly declares, "Arthur was never a legend."

Audiences naturally feel helpless: "Why didn't we see what we wanted?" And this helplessness quickly turns into anger towards Phillips: "Why didn't you give us what we wanted?" In this intertwining of overwhelming despair and fury, Phillips is no longer that once-revered great director; he's no different from any service person who disappoints his customers, who are tempted to tattoo the slogan "The customer is always right" on his forehead.

Who failed us? As I reflect, I realize my assessment of Joker 2 can wait. The movie isn't a mistake; it's just deeply frustrating. Modern etiquette suggests we shouldn't label things we're displeased with as errors. Everything has its own merits, after all.

Did Hollywood fail? Or did Warner Bros? If no one's at fault, our anger loses its target. People often air their indignation as an after-dinner activity while they digest their food, just as we need to be motivated to drag ourselves out of bed every morning.

I truly disliked that morning when I watched Joker 2, while the Joker tumbled from his pedestal in my heart.

Yet, I don't regret watching it in IMAX one bit.