Director Tod Phillips' Joker: Folie a Deux, which he cowrote with Scott (The Fighter) Silver, is a twofold sequel that further reinvents DC's Clown Prince and (now) Princess of Crime, detailing their us-against-them, Elseworlds allegiance.
Joaquin Phoenix resumes the titular character, aka "Arthur Fleck," joined this time by Lady Gaga's Lee Quinzel, aka Harley Quinn. They meet in Arkham Asylum through a music-therapy session, and from there swap hopes and dreams, heightened by envisioned, song renditions, influenced by Sonny & Cher/Donny & Marie preludes, and on effective occasion, punctuated by Hildur Guonadottir's baleful orchestrations.
One might assume Joker 2 to be a warped musical due to its extended, song numbers, and during its earliest phases, it is, but this constitutes only a joyful, we-could-have-had-it-all precursor to the story's prime purpose, forging an intense, "aired live," courtroom drama, where characters from the initial chapter reflect on Fleck, including Leigh Gill's beleaguered Gary Puddles (remember him?), in one of the movie's best scenes.
For the most part, the judicial dueling comes down to how insane Fleck is. His lawyer, Catherine Keener's Maryanne Stewart is adamant on selling Fleck as two, distinct personalities (shades of Paolo Barzman/Paul B. Margolis' 2008 Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde). Stewart is pitted against Harry Lawtey's Harvey Dent, who's just as adamant in crushing any behavioral excuse, while Fleck remains at odds with both.
Some may argue that Joker does, in fact, deserve empathy, claiming that he's the result of stressful circumstance and not innate cruelty. Nevertheless, it becomes clear that his relentless need to endanger Gotham is, in the eyes of any sane, compassionate person, a repellent crutch, perhaps only worsened by Quinn's adoring (if not insincere) push.
In this regard, the setup plays rather like a bully who bullies because he was bullied at some point or another. I never bought into that justification. If anything, one who's persecuted should know well enough not to inflict pain on others. It's easy, therefore, to perceive Joker as inhuman, and all the hows and whys behind his actions don't matter. The proceedings press this it's-all-for-me point, as Joker performs his manic defense. He demands understanding (a love, if one will, beyond even Quinzel's), but through his vile antics, his irredeemable nature becomes evident, even to himself.
(Incidentally, rumor has it that Christopher Nolan considered a third, Dark Knight chapter in which Heath Ledger's Joker would have stood trial, to demonstrate the absurdity of defending his terroristic core. That doesn't quite happen in Joker 2, not to the extent that it could have, but the implied nudge is there. Again, it cements Joker's inborn villainy beyond contention.)
It's safe to say that the Joker sequel builds like a psychological cyclone (and would one want anything less?), but even among the later-phased tensions, musical numbers prevail. These, though more cynical in intent, help to instill an aesthetic continuity, but they also keep Gaga in the picture, and make no mistake, she stands out in this.
In the wake of its crazed ascent and some may argue, anti-climatic epilogue (featuring Connor Storrie's slashed-face "surrogate"), Joker 2 is an uneven but ambitious product, and its ambition (whether through its writing, directing or performances) deserves respect for swerving a proven formula into a different, artistic direction. Moreover, whether this one will go down as one of the great sequels is still up for debate, but for the sake of an experimental, DC segue, Joker: Folie a Deux will at least endure, as will all related, Batman lore.
