Since its release in October 2019, Todd Phillips’s Joker has been dominating the 2020 film awards season. With 11 nominations at the 92^nd Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Joker is leading this year’s race for most Oscar nominations. 

Becoming an awards season favourite is a particularly impressive feat for a superhero film, as previous films in this genre have historically been snubbed in favour of challenging dramas, due to the perception of superhero films as unartistic child’s play. Success in Joker’s case is also a surprise given that it’s garnered primarily underwhelming reviews by film critics. In spite of poor critical reception, Joker is a prosperous dark horse that’s managed to appeal to audiences as well as film industry insiders… all while not being a very good film. Joker is neither visually nor ideologically interesting. 

The story takes place during the 1970s, with flashback scenes from the 1940s. The movie would be better suited for the medium of film but since it is shot digitally the cinematography has a television-like quality. With its meagre, modern calibre in a historical setting paired with the cool hues of Gotham city’s atmosphere, Joker’s cinematography is comparable to an episode of the CW’s Riverdale.

 A paramount rule of effective storytelling is the idiom, “show, don’t tell,” a technique that Joker fails to respect. The entire story is told through tedious, literal dialogue. Instead of presenting how Arthur Fleck (the Joker) copes with his mental illness visually, the film blatantly explains to the audience that Arthur is struggling mentally with lines like: “Arthur, you’re on seven different medications.” It would have been more compelling for the story to depict this same information cinematically, for example by showing Arthur ingest seven distinct pills that don’t seem to help him as part of his tiresome routine. It’s a perfectly valid artistic decision for a film to be dialogue-heavy, but this isn’t necessarily the case with Joker, as the speech component is used sparingly, only to articulate the fundamental themes of the movie and basic behaviours of the characters. It would’ve been more effective had the film depicted these ideas visually and through compelling dialogue that develops characters into believable people, rather than just leaving them as caricatures and props. 

The audience fails to receive insight into how Arthur feels throughout the film. Arthur deals with a complicated family life, romantic connection, and negative workplace environment while being treated for mental illness; yet there’s no humane, verbal response to any of these ordeals. Thus, the sudden eloquence Arthur exhibits in a pivotal climactic scene with actor Robert De Niro’s character falls short of dynamic—it feels unnatural for this character to suddenly be completely self-aware of his motivations. Had there been more of this raw, ongoing conversation within Arthur’s psyche and with other characters, the film would have greatly benefited narratively. 

Todd Phillips has been unbashful about how Martin Scorcese’s works Taxi Driver and King of Comedy have heavy-handedly influenced Joker. Considering that Scorcese’s Irishman is competing for the same awards as Joker, and is currently being overtaken, we must ask: what is Joker’s unique quality that’s managed to capture the attention of Hollywood and swarms of audiences? 

Movies of the comic book genre have immense fan loyalty, and love of their lore consistently attracts a myriad of viewers. Yet, to attribute Joker’s accomplishments as just a symptom of being a comic book movie is a mistake that fails to recognize how this film has captured the zeitgeist. The collective triumph of Todd Phillips and his Joker is rooted in the way it accurately mirrors the social consciousness of contemporary society and the film industry. 

Prior to its release, Joker had already plagued the cultural landscape as incel hysteria linked to the film sparked both panic and intrigue. Moviegoers prepared for copycat Jokers to emerge off screen and were eager to watch a timeless supervillain descent into madness. Seeing as it’s no longer a taboo to indulge in gritty true crime stories and the average person tuned into popular culture can now recall more than a handful of serial killers by name, Joker is the perfect passively ideological film for an audience that craves direct provocativeness over a developed narrative. 

In a society where mental health is valued, therapy is discussed openly, and vast  numbers of the population take medication for mental illness, Joker understands that its target audience is more aware than ever before of the toll mental illness can take. This film intertwines archaic treatment of the mentally ill, which was normative during the 1970s, with a sympathetic understanding of mental illness that is normative for 2020 to create a false illusion of depth. 

By combining the social culture of two distinct time periods, Joker fails to portray a genuine experience of living with mental illness in either era. If Joker had truthfully utilized its antiquated setting, Arthur wouldn’t have received any mental health aid, and his illness would exist as hidden trauma for him that only the modern audience can recognize. 

The government and general population of this bygone period, a tumultuous time of the Vietnam War and civil rights protest, wouldn’t have the same awareness of mental illness as we do today. Alternatively, if the events in Joker occurred today, Arthur would receive semi-adequate help via a social program, and his cruel coworkers wouldn’t be as openly prejudiced without consequence. 

Joker prevails because it’s easier to follow a one-dimensional victim narrative than it is to see the world as it truly is. Joker appeases its viewer by offering an apparent exploration of mental illness conveniently wrapped in a façade of depth but without real nuance, allowing the viewer to feel a proud sense of pensiveness without actually having said anything meaningful. 

Hollywood’s embrace of a comic book genre film on this level is unprecedented and ultimately telling of how insiders are coping with adjusting to the post-Weinstein era in the industry. The downfall of Miramax’s Harvey Weinstein, once dubbed a “God” by Meryl Streep, undeniably means that Hollywood elites are struggling to grasp control of an industry in transition. 

Audiences and A-listers alike claim to push for diversity in cinema, but the achievements of Joker, a film about a disenfranchised white man in which minority characters exist only as accessories, represent a return to the kind of film that is reminiscent of a more traditional Hollywood blockbuster. 

In the pursuit of keeping their upper hand, it’s necessary for members of the Academy to do the unheard of and uphold a comic book blockbuster as one of the best movies of the year. Todd Phillips’ love of a classic Hollywood narrative makes him a candidate that insiders recognize as a safe financial and artistic bet. As Lulu Wang’s The Farewell is snubbed, Greta Gerwig is largely ignored for the second year in a row, and Jennifer Kent remains in the shadows, a group of wealthy industry gatekeepers breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of Joker’s success. They are familiar with the type of films Phillips is seeking to emulate, they are content that the masses have responded positively, and they welcome him with open arms.