Last year, when the ashes of a burning Hollywood were but a metaphor, three films rose above them to challenge the bloated, scurrilous morass that is Double-Twenties Cinema. All three movies, in their own unique ways, restored my faith in the medium’s future. One uses extensive practical effects, one features CGI characters, and one is fully computer-animated top to bottom, without a single human element visible.
The following is my review of the 2024 sequel Joker: Folie à Deux, directed by Todd Phillips, starring Joaquin Phoenix (returning as the titular villain) and Lady Gaga (as Harleen “Lee” Quinzel). This review was written as I viewed the film for the first time, notated over the course of its 138-minute duration.
Cast back your mind over thirty years ago, before the onset of this godless, profane century, to the comparative innocence and joyful day-glo palate of the Year of Our Lord 1991. My college pals and I were attending the historic Tara theater in Savannah, along with a significant percentage of the coastal town’s population.
Last night it happened, again. I willingly sat through a film that evoked such animosity, such blinding and violent hatred in myself, I couldn’t sleep afterward. I lay awake, practically steaming, trying to work out how I could find and slaughter every member of the cast and crew.
I’ve noticed that it’s become de rigueur to over-criticize everything (other than personal politics, mandates, foreign governments, or presidents not named Trump), particularly when it comes to the Sopranos prequel. People are so desperate to appear savvy and informed that they will over-analyze things, thereby nullifying the joy of discovery. You talk yourself into hating, in the futile hopes of besting the haters. You’re afraid to love something that someone else might hate.
To prove my point, I’m going to stick thoughts into your head that will make you hate your favorite things. Let’s start with The Sopranos!
I know what you’re thinking; we’re all thinking it. They dressed young Tony Soprano up to vaguely reference Chris-Chan, and they did it intentionally. It fits the timeline; filming preceded the eldritch horrors that ultimately led to prison for Chris-Chan. I don’t even want to joke about what he did, and in case you don’t know what the hell I’m talking about: I am not crazy.
My personal credentials for this review are as follows:
I don’t care what your agenda, politics, cause or reasons are. I don’t want to hear about sequels, prequels, reboots or recasts. I don’t care who’s offended, what’s offensive, or problematic, or should be cancelled.
I don’t want the following movies fucked with. Ever.
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