The Hopeful Truth Behind Todd Phillips’ Joker (2019)
By: Ryan Dimalanta
Tags: Suicide, Mental Illness, Mental Health, Filmmaking, Film

The Hopeful Truth Behind Todd Phillips’ Joker (2019)

Understanding the stigma surrounding mental illness

Joker (2019)

Arthur Fleck sits in a locked and padded room, wearing white scrubs and a crazed smile. He’s cuffed to a metal chair — to a metal desk that sits in-between him and the psychiatrist. A wicked cackle and a lit cigarette hangs from his lips.

“What’s so funny?” says the psychiatrist.

“Just thinking. Thinking of a joke,” says Arthur.

“You wanna tell it to me?” says the psychiatrist.

“You wouldn’t get it,” says Arthur, smirking ear to ear, beginning to sing the words to Frank Sinatra’s, That’s Life —

That’s life (that’s life!). And as crazy as it may seem…

If you’ve seen Todd Phillips’s controversial film Joker (2019), you’ve felt the terror of Arthur’s final words — it’s just a movie, right? But you know what comes next: the perilous fate that awaits the psychiatrist.

Yet the knowledge of what’s to come can’t quite warm you of this feeling: the cold tendrils creeping up your spine as the horrors of Phillip’s film unfold before you.

Even when you’re at home, surrounded by loved ones, supposedly safe, in bed, the covers pulled tight around you — you’re still checking corners, looking into the dark ones, peeking through shades and veiled curtains, hoping the madness hasn’t seeped in somewhere, unnoticed.

What’s that there in the darkness? Behind the painted face, the wicked smile, the cackling eyes and the maniacal laughter that will haunt your sleepless nights for days to come.

Is it just attention that Arthur seeks, or is there more to it? Maybe, he’s right — you don’t get it.

The Stigma

Mental illness is a social health crisis that affects millions of people in the U.S. each year. Yet even as the numbers of mental health cases continue to rise, awareness surrounding the crisis is drastically trivialized and misunderstood.

This is a problem.

Because for people suffering with mental illness, loneliness is an everyday occurrence. It makes it hard to get up in the morning. Sometimes, impossible. It leaves you feeling hopeless, like you can’t be any other way, like things will never get better. Ever.

Because you’re not good enough. Not confident, happy or sane enough. Not normal. No one gets it…I’m utterly alone, you think to yourself as you lay in bed wearing the same sweats you’ve been wearing for the past three weeks, watching all eight Harry Potter movies in order — then reverse order and back again — just to feel an iota of happiness.

Just one, an iota. An inkling of a spark of hope, joy, or a semblance of anything that can distract you from your shitty life for just a moment. Because it’s dark down there in those confined mental-spaces, those cramped thought-shafts and low-feeling tunnels, where you toil away restlessly, forever digging your own personal well of despair…

Deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole.

This kind of darkness grows everyday because of the stigma: a gross generalization that perpetuates the corrosive perception that the mentally ill, or those suffering with mental afflictions, are a detriment to society — a bane to be ostracized and obscured into shameful subservience to the injustices of social norms.

It’s this flawed perception that’s proving fatal to those whom suffer with mental illness, because the stigma continues to perpetuate a serious lack of social awareness surrounding mental health. Which perpetuates a disastrous notion — the stigma — surrounding the crisis.

Living With Mental Illness

Mental illness is a widespread disease that doesn’t discriminate with its afflictions, infecting any mind, anywhere, anytime. According to a survey by NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness), 1 in 5 adults experience living with a mental illness (anxiety, depression, PTSD).

Subsequently, 1 in 25 adults experience living with a serious mental illness (bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, schizophrenia). Unfortunately, adults are not the only ones affected by this crisis. 17 % of kids (ages 6–17) in the U.S. also experience living with this sickness.

I can relate.

I’ve been afraid for most of my life. I can hardly remember a time when I wasn’t afraid of something — afraid of being judged, laughed at, ostracized, anxious as hell every second of the day because I didn’t feel safe in this turbulent world we live in.

Because like millions of others out there I, too, live with mental illness. I’m anxious, manic and depressed. And I live with these afflictions each and every day. But I’m dealing, coping, probably better than most; through years of therapy and cultivating a sense of self-awareness that I use to wage war against the deleterious thoughts that riddle my mind like parasites.

Yet what has helped me most through these long years of pain and suffering has been the love and support of my family. It’s our collective strength that has guided me through the darkness.

But I’m still afraid.

In 2017, there were an estimated 1,400,000 suicide attempts in the U.S. 47,173 of those attempts were successful. Today, suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S.

Unfortunately, these are the most current statistics that we have on this health crisis. The stigma surrounding suicide has led to underreporting, and the AFSP (American Foundation for Suicide Prevention) estimate the numbers to be higher.

Scary, right?

It’s this kind of madness that Joker reveals. And through the eyes of Arthur Fleck you catch a rare glimpse of the pain and suffering of one of cinema’s most iconically disturbed minds.

Joker (2019)

FADE IN…

INT. LOCKER ROOM — DAY

ARTHUR FLECK sits in front of a mirror, painting his face.Tears begin to well in his eyes, as he forces a smile. It doesn’t come easily. He uses his index fingers to stretch it out from ear to ear.

Then a silent tear trickles down his painted cheek. He continues to smile, a broken grin that stretches painfully, forcefully. Ear to ear.

EXT. SIDEWALK, GOTHAM — DAY

Arthur stands out front of a shop, promoting. He’s in full clown attire, painted face and all. He’s twirling a sign that says: Everything Must Go.

A gang of kids ramble down the sidewalk, jeering as they rush up to the would-be clown.

Arthur is unaware, a jovial smile plastered on his face as he works, just trying to eek out a living the only way he knows how. But then, his sign is ripped from his unsuspecting grasp by the gang of kids whom hoot and holler, taking off down the street with Arthur in hot pursuit.

EXT. ALLEYWAY, GOTHAM — LATER

Arthur races down the street, in and out of traffic, then turns a corner into the alley and WHACK!

One of the kids smashes the sign over Arthur’s head, shattering it to pieces. Head over heels, Arthur hits the asphalt before he can even shout for help — not like he’d get it, anyway.

“Get him!,” the lead kid says, the gang of kids beginning to kick the shit out of Arthur. “Harder! Kick him harder!”

Arthur is helpless, huddled in a feeble ball, gangly, twisted, limbs that nearly crack under the pressure of the kid’s boots: sizes 7 and up. There’s nothing he can do… But wait for it to end.

INSERT TITLE: JOKER

FADE OUT…

Joker’s opening sequence sets the tone. It shows you Arthur, his sadness, and the violent neglect that surrounds him. It’s this willful ignorance that Phillips portrays in his depiction of Gotham City, shedding light on the stigma and the controversy incited by the film’s representation of mental illness in society.

The Case of Arthur Fleck (the Stigma Personified)

Joker is a standalone depiction of one of DC’s most iconic villains. It’s a unique and widely controversial portrayal from director Todd Phillips (The Hangover Trilogy). It’s definitely not your typical super hero flick (and it’s not trying to be).

First off, it’s about the origin of the villain: Arthur Fleck, played by Joaquin Phoenix — he’s definitely not [insert raspy Christian Bale voice] Batman. Second, instead of creating an antagonist whom you love to hate, Phillips portrays Arthur as the protagonist, a symbolic hero in his own right — idol to the poor, the downtrodden, the lost and misunderstood rejects of Gotham City.

This is what stems the controversy — why the film incites criticism and fear — because there’s a serious misunderstanding of Joker’s underlying theme: the negative effect mental illness has on those whom suffer from its afflictions.

FADE IN…

INT. SOCIAL WORKER’S OFFICE — DAY

Arthur laughs, not yet a cackle. He’s crying, smoking a cigarette.

The female SOCIAL WORKER grunts, waits.

“Is it just me, or is it getting crazier out there?” says Arthur.

“It’s certainly tense. People are upset. They’re struggling, looking for work. These are tough times. Have you been keeping up with your journal,” she says, looking down at his chart, scratching her pen needlessly as Arthur squirms in his seat.

“Yes, ma’am,” says Arthur.

“Great. Did you bring it,” she says.

Arthur’s knee shakes as he takes a drag and stays silent.

“Arthur, last time to I told you to bring your journal. Can I see it,” she says.

Arthur looks down, scattered. His leg continues to twitch. Finally, stuttering, he takes out his journal and hands it gingerly to the social worker.She takes the journal from Arthur with tired hands, beginning to rifle through the crumpled pages of manic scrawl.

“I’ve been using it, as a journal. But also, as a joke diary, you know, funny thoughts, or, observations…I think I told you I was pursuing a career in stand up comedy,” says Arthur.

“No, you didn’t,” she says.

“I think, I did,” says Arthur.

But she’s not listening. She continues to flip through the psychotic ramblins of Arthur Fleck. She stops on a page. A line stands out in bold: I just hope my death makes more cents than my life. She reads the sentence aloud. Arthur giggles. The social shakes her head — done for the day.

FADE OUT…

This scene is the film’s most telling representation of the stigma. It shows you the weakness of human nature. The flawed aspects of social conduct that tends towards pseudo-norms of acceptable ignorance, willful neglect and self-righteous indifference.

Arthur should be able to rely on the social worker to understand his pain, yet she’s indifferent. She sees Arthur’s plea — I just hope my death makes more cents than my life — and all she wants is to get through the session, because the city has cut her funding and now she’s out of a job.

This is Arthur’s plight, his pain. It’s what incites the film’s narrative. It’s the root of his motivation, stemming every action he takes, every interaction he has, and how each contributes to his creeping descent into madness.

By showing Arthur’s pain, Phillips allows you to empathize with a character whose moral compass doesn’t contain a North Star; someone you wouldn’t think twice to care about — but you do, right?

You feel for Arthur, you see him — his brutal upbringing and the violent neglect that ignites his turbulent mind. You begin to empathize with him— albeit, unwillingly. This is how Phillips gets you to invest in the film, and how he gets you to invest in the notion of the stigma and its disastrous effects on those whom suffer with mental illness.

Joker’s Gotham (Empathy, Hope and Madness)

In Phillips’s Gotham, ignorance reigns supreme while the rich perpetuate the segregation of social classes through propaganda. Here you see the stigma; rooted deep and set in with concrete, built atop metal skyscrapers and the dying hopes and dreams of Gotham’s poor and downtrodden.

Yet the Philips also shows you what Arthur needs most: someone to listen, to care, to show an iota of compassion for his plight. Because a person neglect of empathy — someone who’s devoid of society’s respect, compassion, and understanding— is a person without hope.

And then the madness sets in.

FADE IN…

INT. ARTHUR’S APARTMENT — DAY

Arthur sits in the entryway. Next to him is the body of RANDAL. A pair of shears protrudes from his eye socket, blood pooling underneath his body.

“Why would you do that, Arthur!” says GARY, huddling in the corner.

Arthur huffs and puffs. “Do you watch the Murray Franklin show — I’m gonna be on tonight.”

Gary cowers.

“It’s okay, Gary. You can go. I’m not gonna hurt you,” Arthur says, breathing deep.

Gary scurries past Arthur. As fast as his short legs can muster, he rushes to the door and pulls on the knob with ready hands —

CLACKK-CHNKK-THUDD

“Hey, Arthur…Can you get the, umm, lock,” says Gary, pointing up.

“Sorry, Gary,” Arthur says, still huffing. He gets up and heads to the door. He begins to open it, then shuts it. “Gary…”

“Yeah…” says Gary.

“You were the only one that was ever nice to me,” Arthur says, kissing the crown of Gary’s bald head. “Get out of here.”

The door opens and Gary rushes out, tail between his legs.

FADE OUT…

Preventing Madness (Human Kindness and a Critique of the Criticism)

As you know, Joker has incited a wave of criticism for its controversial portrayal of Arthur Fleck, as an empathetic protagonist — this didn’t sit well with a lot of people.

They said it was the violence.

Surviving families from the 2012 Aurora shootings — where 12 were killed at the screening of The Dark Knight Rises — spoke out to express their concern that Joker would incite the same kind of violence…The U.S. military even warned against “incel violence” at the premiere of the film…(There were no specific, nor credible threats made)

They said it was misinformed.

One of the more toxic ideas that Joker subscribes to is the hackneyed association between serious mental illness and extreme violence…(Yet, there have been more mass shootings than days this [past] year…According to the Gun Violence Archive (GVA), there were 417 mass shootings by the end of 2019)

The Fallacy

The fallacy in these arguments comes down to 3 things:

( 1 ) The film is a work of fiction and not reality. Therefore the events that take place in the film are purposefully exaggerated. It’s art: an expression of reality, not reality itself.

( 2 ) Violence is a part of human nature — always has been, probably always will be — and cannot be avoided by assuming misconceptions about a widely misunderstood topic, nor by hysterical speculation. Hysteria is a madness of its own sorts.

( 3 ) Mental illness is a deeply personal experience and not subject to scrutiny under generalized terms. (i.e. per case, as each individual experiences a unique onset of afflictions. What is true for one, is not true for all) Yes, the events in the film are horrendous and you hope that Arthur’s heinous acts never reach your streets, but the possibility for mentally ill patients to take their own lives is devastatingly real. Because, when a person is denied the hope of a better tomorrow, death can seem like the only option.

But it’s not. There’s still hope.

Yet the fallacy stokes the controversy. In turn, perpetrating the hopelessness that leads to the unnecessary death of those living with mental illness. So when considering Joker and the issues it presents, you must acknowledge that the film is a work of fiction and not an explicit representation of reality. Therefore, the themes take precedence.

Not the stigma.