Joker: Folie à Deux

Director: Todd Phillips
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Lady Gaga, Brendan Gleeson, Catherine Keener, Zazie Beetz, Steve Coogan, Harry Lawtey, Leigh Gill, Ken Leung, Jacob Lofland, Bill Smitrovich
Running Time: 138 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★)  

It seems fitting how all these post-mortems are being done on the critical and commercial failure of Todd Phillips' Joker: Folie à Deux since the film itself can almost be viewed as an autopsy of its brilliant predecessor.That this sequel feels made by someone who dislikes the idea of sequels isn't necessarily a negative, but Phillips creates a sprawling, audaciously ambitious mess that manages to tests viewers' patience as much as it subverts expectations. It's a huge, frustrating swing for the fences, revolving entirely around 2019's Joker while simultaneously having very little to do with it. 

Relitigating the previous film's events in painstaking detail, it focuses on the motivations behind Arthur Fleck's crimes and his own fractured state of mind as he faces trial. By this point, the character's mental illness and violent tendencies aren't exactly well guarded secrets, leaving the question as to whether a deeper psychological dive justifies another entry. And now with his perplexing follow-up, Phillips takes extremely bold measures to ensure it does. Some of those work, but others don't.  

Now in custody at Arkham State Hospital, party clown and failed stand-up comedian Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) awaits trial for the murders he committed two years earlier, including his live on-air killing of TV host Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro). As Arthur's lawyer Maryanne Stewart (Catherine Keener) builds an insanity defense arguing the Joker persona is responsible, Arkham guard Jackie (an excellent Brendan Gleeson) gets him into a music therapy class. It's here where Arthur meets and falls for Harleen "Lee" Quinzel (Lady Gaga), an obsessive Joker superfan who was committed for allegedly burning down her parents' apartment. 

After Lee's plan for them to escape and start a new life together is thwarted, an increasingly unhinged Arthur must prepare for court while his legions of Joker fans root him on. With Gotham's Assistant D.A. Harvey Dent (Harry Lawtey) hellbent on a death penalty conviction, witnesses like former neighbor Sophie Drummond (Zazie Beetz) and co-worker Gary Puddles (Leigh Gill) take the stand to testify. Continuing to lean on Lee for support, Arthur's grip on reality slips as Joker reemerges, transforming the trial into a circus sideshow.

Given the heavy influence of Scorsese's Taxi Driver and The King of Comedy on the first film, it wasn't the worst idea for Phillips to pair Joker up with Harley Quinn for a jukebox musical in the vein of New York, New York. But after a promising start, the dark, twisted love story loses its way when scattershot execution and repetitive scenes fail to move the story forward. Clocking in at two hours and eighteen minutes, it feels longer, accompanied by a trial of the century you worry may never end. What nearly saves it are two phenomenal performances and the impressive visuals, both of which are occasionally lost amidst a package that just doesn't come together like it should.   

A cleverly conceived animated opening where Joker is impersonated by his shadow prior to a live TV performance provides a more revealing glimpse into the film's themes than you'd suspect, as the Looney Tunes-style short conveys that ongoing tug of war between Arthur's two identities. And many of the musical sequences do succeed as a manifestation of his insanity, particularly an Arkham rooftop dance and a Sonny and Cher inspired variety show spoof. But even with the presence of old school songbook standards like "That's Entertainment," "When You're Smiling" and "I've Got the World on a String," these excursions become increasingly uneven, resulting in diminishing returns the more Phillips tries to squeeze in.

Of all the picture's issues, Phoenix and Gaga aren't among them, with the former giving another complex, compelling performance that alternates between dark humor and unimaginable despair as Arthur's vulnerability is put on full display for everyone to see. And despite skepticism surrounding her casting, Gaga's work is one of the best things in this, and not just because of her singing during the musical interludes. In capturing the dangerously compulsive infatuation Lee has with Joker, her true motivations remain constantly in question. Their bond not only reflects his narcissistic need for love and affection, but ties into themes of media obsession prevalent in the first film. 

Midway through, the narrative becomes disjointed when scenes drag and action awkwardly shifts between the hospital and courtroom. Musical sequences are either piled on or disappear before returning to relay the same idea in a different song or setting. But while Arthur's trial is entirely too long, it's still entertaining to watch Joker represent himself with a Grisham inspired Southern drawl as the supposedly no-nonsense judge (Life Goes On's Bill Smitrovich!) indulges his craziest whims. By the time returning characters take the stand, what unfolds feels like a bizarre cross between the Seinfeld finale and Colin Ferguson's 1993 shooting trial. Harvey Dent's inclusion makes sense, even if the character leaves so little an impression you'll have to remind yourself he's there, until a late development jolts us into recalling why.

While there's understandable disdain for what Phillips attempts, this approaches the material from an entirely different angle than the first film, far more invested in exploring whether Arthur and Joker really are one in the same. A potentially intriguing thesis on it comes toward the end, but even that's marred by some confusing, if well shot theatrics. Its final minutes feel more deflating than tragic, likely to leave viewers shaking their heads at the infuriating denouement, as if the joke's on them. And in a way, it is. But despite its many problems, this still could be worth revisiting down the road, if only to further examine how a Joker sequel turned out like this.       

The Banshees of Inisherin

Director: Martin McDonagh
Starring: Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, Kerry Condon, Barry Keoghan, Gary Lydon, Pat Shortt, Sheila Flitton, Bríd Ní Neachtain, Jon Kenny
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Put simply, Martin McDonagh's The Banshees of Inisherin charts the sudden disintegration of an adult male friendship. It's a fairly straightforward premise, if not for the fact that this topic is rarely explored on film to the extent it is here. Initially resembling what could be mistaken as a comedic feud between lifelong buddies, it takes a turn into darker territory, as its era and fictional remote island setting become a key component in understanding where they're each coming from. You feel for the protagonist, a kind, likably dim man who wakes up one morning to discover his world's been turned upside down. But the same could also be said for his new enemy, who's struggling with some kind of existential crisis. What exactly this crisis entails hardly matters since the relentless pursuit of an answer only causes more trouble and hurt than either can handle.

There's something so bracingly honest and relatable about how McDonagh presents this, fully acknowledging the isle's inhabitants lead what appear to be dull lives, characterized by routines that do provide a certain amount of joy and relief in the face of a war reaching its end. For one of them, the shattering of their routine will prove catastrophic, while another searches for meaning that may not exist. It's anyone's right to end a friendship and certainly frustrating when the rejected party won't take a hint, but what eventually happens in the film suggests far deeper issues are at play. But it isn't until one of them goes off the deep end that you start considering what this was really all about.

It's 1921 with the Irish Civil War nearing its close when on the isle of Inisherin the amiable Pádraic Súilleabháin (Farrell) plans to meet his best friend and drinking buddy Colm Doherty (Gleeson) at the pub, as he does each day at 2 pm. But after being stood up and Pádraic discovers him sitting alone in his cottage, Colm tells Pádraic he's sick of him, wishing to instead spend his remaining days composing and playing music rather than listen to his pal's incessant chatter and complaining. 

Despite Colm's firm insistence they go their separate ways, a disbelieving Pádraic grows increasingly agitated by his friend's devastating rejection. Even as Pádraic's sister Siobhán (Kerry Condon) and troubled local boy Dominic (Barry Keoghan) try to smooth things over, the feud escalates to alarming levels, with Colm taking drastic steps to ensure his ex-friend stays away. And when that doesn't work, the situation gets uglier and more personal, resulting in life altering consequences for all involved.

McDonagh's script is rich enough in detail and the performances so lived in that it's easy to imagine how things were between the former friends before this started. We also know as little about Colm's state of mind as Pádraic does. To some extent, Colm isn't completely sure either, only expressing frustration that his life's whittling away while he drinks at the pub and listens to his friend babble on about nothing. 

If Colm's solution is to cut Pádraic out so he can focus on his music, neither go as planned due to him underestimating his friend's emotional pain. You can see both sides, as Colm takes a variety of approaches to let this man down easy and spare his feelings after ignoring him fails. Still, Pádraic refuses to get the message, doubling down in his efforts to somehow change Colm's mind. One's unshakably stubborn while the other's sort of endearingly annoying, even as neither can quite come to terms with their own shortcomings, preferring to deflect blame rather than take a look in the mirror.

Gleeson plays Colm with solemn, matter-of-fact directness while Farrell's innocently naive loyalty and confusion wins you over in spite of the character's obvious faults. Condon does sublime work as Siobhán, who clearly loves her brother, but knows he won't give in, trying anything to keep the peace before both men pass the point of no return. The only stabilizing force left in Pádraic's life aside from his donkey Jenny, she's about to reach the end of her rope. As the wacky, troubled town youth Dominic, Keoghan provides much of the film's comic relief opposite Farrell, until the scene-stealing performance reveals the character as someone more troubled than his goofy prankster facade lets on.

McDonagh balances a lot, managing to invoke a lot of laughs from a screenplay drenched in tragedy, as the two main characters discover much of what happened didn't need to. Farrell and Gleeson (re-teaming for the first time since the director's 2008 debut feature In Bruges) are seamless together, each giving career high performances as friends with so little experience being mean that their attempts result in disaster.

There comes a point when Colm takes a series of actions that aren't just crazy and selfish, but fly in the face of what he claims to be doing this for. It's not about Pádraic so much as what his presence and carefree attitude represents for man who feels trapped, his dreams and goals slipping away by the day. But rather than provide relief, cutting ties with his best friend creates new problems that bring him no closer to solving the existing one. 

It's a testament to Farrell and Gleeson that you still sense a small amount of affection and camaraderie left between them even after the worst has seemingly occurred. There's even a tinge of regret in a last act that's surprisingly difficult to watch, as they clumsily lose control of their worst impulses. Where this goes after the credits roll is anyone's guess, but if the fitting final scene implies some kind of impasse has been reached, it's a tiny one, arriving entirely too late. As it turns out, these former friends were far more skilled at destroying themselves than each other.              

Edge of Tomorrow

Director: Doug Liman
Starring: Tom Cruise, Emily Blunt, Bill Paxton, Brendan Gleeson, Noah Taylor, Kick Gurry, Dragomir Mrsic, Charlotte Riley, Jonas Armstrong
Running Time: 113 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

"Live. Die. Repeat." That's the catchy tagline for Edge of Tomorrow, and it's hard to accuse the studio of false advertising. But for the first half of its running time, the film feels like it's going to aspire for more than that, only to take a promising premise and one of the more interesting protagonists Tom Cruise has played, and instead settle into a routine action vehicle indistinguishable from his other recent offerings. And the set-up really is great, casting the actor in his familiar alpha male power position, only to pull the rug out and expose the character as kind of a bumbling fool, ill-equipped for the situation he's been thrust into. Initially, it could be described as Groundhog Day meets Starship Troopers meets Metal Gear Solid, as everything surprisingly fires on all cylinders for a while. At least until a key reveal that causes the movie to go on autopilot.

When a race of alien Mimics take over Europe, public affairs officer Major William Cage (Cruise) is unexpectedly ordered by United Defense Force head General Brigham (Brendan Gleeson) onto the beaches of France to suit up for combat. As a high ranking official whose position is limited to a desk job motivating those in battle, rather than engaging in it, the terrified Cage objects to the assignment, even threatening to use his media clout to blackmail Brigham. Instead, he awakens in handcuffs at Heathrow Airport, discovering he's been labeled a deserter and is now being prepped for combat under the gruff Sergeant Farrell (Bill Paxton).

It's a losing battle, not just for the inexperienced Cage, but all the humans involved in the invasion. Only he's the one who has to continually repeat it, waking up each previous morning after dying in combat, hoping to eventually gain enough experience and information to defeat the Mimics. His ally is Sergeant Rita Vrataski (Emily Blunt), who agrees to train him, immediately recognizing the rare phenomenon he's experiencing and how they can use it to claim victory.

Right away it's apparent that the film is bucking more than a few trends and at least attempting to deliver something a little different than we've come to expect from the current onslaught of overblown action spectacles. When we meet the protagonist he isn't very likable at all. In fact, he's smarmy and egotistical, fully deserving of the "transfer" he's about to receive. That he also almost wets his pants at the thought of battle is just icing on the cake. Think of it as an extended feature length episode of Undercover Boss in battle, if the supervisor in question is forced not only to do the grunt work, but demoted against his will. None of these soldiers know who this guy is and at first glance understandably find him to be a real idiot.

What's surprising here is how good Cruise is at playing against type, excelling even when not cast as the smartest, most physical guy in the room. Through this Groundhog Day scenario, Cage is suddenly given more than enough opportunities to gather information and figure out how to defeat the alien race, with the script effectively exploiting every one of them. That Emily Blunt's Rita isn't a sidekick or love interest, but a fierce warrior guiding Cage every step of the way and training him for battle. They lose a bit of that heading down the final stretch, but Blunt's believability in the role never wavers and is easily the film's most valuable asset.

To say a movie looks and feels like a video game would in most cases be disparaging, but director Doug Liman invites complimentary comparisons to that medium for a change with some excitingly choreographed action sequences. And while slugging around a heavy, armored metal suit wouldn't seem to lend itself to the most practical or mobile means of combat, it manages to look a lot less silly on screen than you'd picture it described. More importantly, it's fun, and despite doubling as a virtual advertisement for Hollywood's over-reliance on CGI, the technology at least looks good this time, making it easy to get pulled in, even while watching on the small screen.

The eventual disappointment is only that much greater when the overexplanatory reveal kicks in and Liman hits the default button, making clear his intentions to cruise (sorry) along to the finish. Really the whole last 45 minutes or so are mind-numbing, as the characters go through the requisite motions of blowing things up and getting killed over an over again to take us to the thoughtless place we feared we were going before the opening credits started rolling. While it's unfair to necessarily expect deep introspection from an action spectacle, teasing us with it, only to then cop out, is a far worse offense. The blame could lie at the feet of the source material, author Hiroshi Sakurazaka's Japanese young adult novel, All You Need is Kill, which was the film's working title before common sense (and maybe fear of a possible Beatles lawsuit) prevailed. But is calling it something as bland and forgettable as Edge of Tomorrow really that much of an improvement?

For a while there, this really looked like this was actually going someplace intriguing. It's difficult when a film has a great concept but the writing feels forced to over-explain it, causing considerable disappointment. What the approach does provide is a definitive end point with numerous explosions along the way, and despite an opening that wisely teased the opposite, an opportunity for Cruise to further extend his decades-long run as a kick-ass action star. At least this time he's spreading the wealth with a co-star capable of matching him in an arena he usually dominates. Liman probably accomplishes all he can with the material he's working with, and as far as big action blockbusters go, you could definitely do worse. Far worse.