Joker: Folie à Deux Review

Joker: Folie à Deux attempts to turn its antihero’s chaos into an ambitious musical, but the result is a perplexing, overindulgent sequel that fails to recapture the cultural spark of its predecessor. While the 2019 Joker drew polarized reactions, its bold homage to 1970s neo-noir films and Joaquin Phoenix’s visceral performance made it undeniably impactful. By contrast, this follow-up stumbles into tonal incoherence, with a premise that intrigues on paper but falters in execution.

Set shortly after the events of Joker, Arthur Fleck (Phoenix) remains incarcerated in Gotham’s grim Arkham State Hospital, awaiting trial for a series of murders that made him a folk hero to some and a monster to others. Lady Gaga’s Lee Quinzel, a fellow inmate and admirer of his “work,” is introduced as a precursor to Harley Quinn. Their connection unfolds through a series of musical sequences, blending emotional intensity with elaborate renditions of classics like “Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered” and “That’s Entertainment.”

At its core, the film grapples with Arthur’s identity crisis — his fame is tied to Joker’s violent persona, leaving his true self increasingly irrelevant. This psychological tension could have been fertile ground for a nuanced exploration of fame, delusion, and morality. Instead, director Todd Phillips leans heavily on musical interludes that feel disconnected from the sparse narrative. These sequences, though occasionally inventive, fail to elevate the film’s emotional stakes, serving as interruptions rather than amplifications of the story.

Phoenix and Gaga bring their A-game, but even their committed performances struggle against a script that underwrites its characters. Phoenix’s Arthur, once a chillingly tragic figure, now feels stagnant — a “poor little clownsie-wownsie,” as one critic aptly put it. Gaga’s Lee Quinzel has flashes of depth, but her character oscillates between fangirl and femme fatale without clear motivation. Their duet moments, while musically intriguing, lack the chemistry to carry the weight of the film.

Thematically, Folie à Deux raises questions it seems unwilling to answer. Is it a critique of fame? A meditation on shared delusion? Or merely an experiment in genre-blending? The movie’s refusal to pick a lane results in a slog that feels both overlong and dramatically inert. Attempts at courtroom drama fizzle out, and the psychological layers hinted at in the musical numbers remain underdeveloped. The film gestures at big ideas without fully committing to any, leaving the audience adrift in a sea of tonal and narrative ambiguity.

That said, the film isn’t entirely without merit. Some musical numbers offer inventive staging, and the decision to have Phoenix and Gaga perform live-to-film lends authenticity to their performances. But even these moments can’t mask the underlying emptiness of the story. The supporting cast, including Brendan Gleeson and Catherine Keener, are given little to work with, and nods to comic book lore — such as Harvey Dent’s involvement — feel perfunctory.

Joker: Folie à Deux struggles under the weight of its own ambition. What could have been a bold reinvention of the comic book genre instead comes off as a muddled, self-indulgent misfire. While it may spark conversations about its unconventional choices, it’s unlikely to leave the lasting impression its predecessor did. Sometimes, the best sequels are the ones that remain unmade.