With his film, Joker, Director Todd Phillips has been able to capture the zeitgeist of the culture war every bit as terrifying as The Handmaid’s Tale. That he has managed to start a twitter war with the Clown Prince of Middle Class Woke, Taika Waititi, is proof positive of that.
The real danger of the cultural landscape of Identity Politics is when white men start seeing themselves as an identity.
Joker isn’t a movie, it’s a bloody manifesto.
Any white males watching this movie alone in a cinema quietly weeping or hysterically laughing should be a red flag.
The cultural gatekeepers of Identity Politics online, Slate, The Guardian and the New York Times have quickly attacked the film because any art that justifies white male rage must be delegitimised as quickly as possible.
I’m personally surprised that Action Station hasn’t launched a petition demanding a boycott of the film.
Joaquin Phoenix’s Joker is a tour de force performance into how monsters are made not born.
The abuse his character suffers, the pain of his upbringing, the depression and mental illness, the betrayal of his mother to feed a violent misogyny, all set against a backdrop of cruel indifference by a corrupt capitalism, combines to make a terrifying piece of cinema that is as bitter as it is addictive.
Phoenix’s transformation into a violent clown of the absurd is mesmerising and utterly compelling. His dance down the stairs is the march of the nietzschean übermensch descending into madness.
The populist riots that explode against the elites adds real subversive authenticity that extends well beyond the screen
In his final joke, just before he blows the head off Robert De Niro’s character live on air, he asks, ‘What do you get when you mix a damaged child with a society that doesn’t care?”
“You get what you fucking deserve”.
The Anti-Defamation League must be milli-seconds away from adding “You get what you fucking deserve” alongside the Ok sign and bowl haircuts as hate crime symbols.
It is a piece of film that marks an inflection point in cultural identity politics and all those lonely, bitter, angry, damaged white boys warping into adult Jokers finally have their anti-hero to sacrifice to.
One simply doesn’t know whether to weep or laugh hysterically.
Terrifying art imitating a horrific life.