Saw Joker .During the movie I felt a mix of nausea, disgust, sorrow and pleasure. Afterwards, I had a headache, but in the best way possible. Maybe this paper is to help me better understand this movie, with the dark lighting, grim ambience, filthy apartments with no skyline, and unsettling music. It left me feeling unsettled, angsty, and maybe, if you are reading this, you have some similar emotive responses leading to your curiosity about his diagnosis.
A friend told me, “If a movie makes you feel something, good or bad, it’s done its job. It’s not about whether you like it or not, it’s about if it worked to make you suspend disbelief that that person or those people were actually going through that thing.” And Joaquin Phoenix’s Joker did that. He was incredible. Maybe the complexity of the story and the things I will discuss here are in part the reason it is the top comic book movie of all time.
Perhaps the start of the empathy the audience begins to feel is when they show a character who we want justice for, and some sort of growth and transformation in that character takes place. Joker clearly demonstrated empathy. Although odd, his kindness towards his mother—giving her a bath, greeting her when he got home—seemed like he was an immature and childlike boy trying to show kindness to her. Further, when he made a kid laugh on the bus, we saw his human side, his desire to connect to others. He seemed to feel empathy for his coworker, Gary, and sorrow when the other clowns made fun of him. Towards young Bruce, he demonstrated humor and also a desire to connect. When reflecting on the kids who beat him up, he said, “Oh, they were just kids.”
All of these instances developed our empathy for him and give us a background to continue to care about his character, even when he begins to commit horrific acts of violence.
He says “The worst part of having a mental illness is people expect you to behave as if you don’t,” which anyone who has suffered from mental illness might resonate with. There were parts of him that deeply needed empathy, but at the same time there were aspects of his moral decision making that are not tied to mental illness, but rather choice—namely his violent murders.
When his boss asked him why he lost the sign, he said, “Did you not hear? I got mugged.” This was an authority figure who did not see him, understand him, and ultimately believed the worst about him. I wanted to jump into the scene and defend him.
To the social worker, he said, “No one hears me, you never listen, you ask me the same questions.” His therapist responded, “You are on six medications. They have to be doing something.” He yearned to be heard, understood, empathized with. He wondered if anyone could see his suffering.
He told the man he thought was his father, Wayne, that he just wanted a little warmth. From the talk show host, instead of ridicule for his medical condition, he desired a hug, and even went as far as to have a delusion where the host told him, “I wish I had a son like you.” In his fantasy of his female neighbor, he desired a back rub during his mother’s hospitalization.
Rest of the story forms base from there .
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