Joker 2's Ending: Betrayal or Masterstroke?

Is Anyone Out There Laughing? It seems that the answer is a resounding "no." Todd Phillips’ latest endeavor, Joker: Folie a Deux, is hitting a wall of disillusionment, leaving audiences feeling as if they've just cracked a bad joke. This is quite the contrast from its billion-dollar predecessor, the 2019 Joker, which charmed its way into 11 Oscar nominations and even snagged one for Best Actor. Phoenix as Joker/Arthur Fleck and Gaga as Harley Quinn were set to be Hollywood's golden duo this year, but Hollywood, as we know, thrives on surprises—usually the kind that leave us shaking our heads in disbelief.

So, what happened? If you had a penny for every dissatisfied fan, you might just be able to fund the next iteration of this narrative catastrophe. Many feel downright betrayed, and you can’t blame them. This time around, we’re met with sluggish storytelling, a retro soundtrack that feels stuck in the '50s, and Phillips’ apparent indecision on whether to embrace a full-blown musical or stick to his ’70s variety show roots. Talk about a mixed bag! Still, the true source of fan ire seems to be the film's ending, leaving many asking, “What just happened here?”

Let’s be clear: there’s no “right” way to absorb this cinematic offering. What I’m about to share isn’t a defense of Joker: Folie a Deux, but rather a delightful detour for thought, particularly regarding the film's finale, which I believe might be its most brilliant stroke—crickets included. Now, is this thing on?

In a stunning twist of irony, Arthur Fleck tosses aside his Joker identity like last season’s fashion. He tells the court he’s just a man who craved love rather than a symbol of chaos. Not surprisingly, this revelation sends his “fans” into a frenzy, and the relationship with Lee collapses like a poorly structured soufflé. Lee wanted the Joker, not the mundane man behind the mask. Seated in Arkham, Arthur loses the last remnants of his humor, lamenting lost love. Cue the entrance of guard Jackie Sullivan, who informs Fleck he has a visitor. Spoiler alert: it's not a happy reunion.

One fellow inmate, a silent observer throughout the film’s runtime, delivers a joke that echoes right back to the notorious scorn from The Dark Knight: “You get what you f***in’ deserve.” Classic! Unfortunately, the punchline takes a darker turn when that inmate decides to give Arthur a stab—literally. As our beloved Fleck bleeds on the floor, that unnamed joker-in-the-background adopts the perfect sinister laugh; an ensemble of blood, malice, and lost sanity blending together as Arthur takes his last breath. Voila! One Joker departs, and a new one rises from the ashes.

Now, let’s flip the script and revisit the nostalgia train from whence we came. Post-release of the first Joker, I noticed a collective unease with the way the film borrowed from comic lore. Phillips flaunted his intent to craft "a real movie," but, as we know, even the Joker can’t escape comic book purgatory. He positioned his film alongside Scorsese classics, but let’s be honest—it also leans heavily on Batman’s broader lore. If it weren’t for that comic book connection, would fans have rallied around the film in such droves? Hardly.

Let’s not forget the specter of violence that hovered around the release of the original film, igniting fears of a repeat tragedy. At the end of the day, a film doesn’t rake in $1 billion while also driving folks mad with anger without some underlying force. While many viewers wore their Joker fandom with pride, others took issue with some seeing Arthur Fleck as a tragic hero fighting his own battle against societal demons.

But, behold! The narrative gets even wilder when we dissect Arthur Fleck’s character. His grievances are, frankly, self-absorbed. He glances at the down-and-out but does nothing to lift them. This, folks, is like a writer penning an exposé on social injustice while sipping nonfat lattes in an upscale café; it doesn't exactly scream integrity. When Arthur laughs in Arkham, he cryptically proclaims to his therapist, “You wouldn’t get it.” Indeed, the citizens of Gotham didn’t get it either—and perhaps neither did some of the audience members.

So, what’s the big joke? The original Joker served as the setup, and Joker: Folie a Deux serves as the punchline. It opens with a sneak peek reminiscent of Looney Tunes—there’s our beloved Joker, wrestling with his shadow, which steals the limelight and handles the bloodshed while Fleck gets left in the dust, beaten up by his own narrative.

When we reconnect with Fleck, he’s a shell of his former self—awaiting trial and heavily medicated. Enter Lee Quinzel, a seemingly sincere inmate who believably encourages him to return to his roots of laughter and chaos. Oh, the irony! While his lawyer spins a web of deception for the jury, Lee has her own agenda, seeking to manipulate not just Arthur but the very narrative of who he is.

Now, Lee isn’t the traditional Harleen Quinzel we’re familiar with; she’s a woman with deep pockets and ambitions to match. She spins a tale of romance while she manipulates Arthur back to his darker self. It’s a sinister reversal of roles that has all the excitement of a late-night thrilla in Manila.

Lastly, let’s talk about the audaciousness of wanting something from the Joker that never was there to begin with. Is it wrong to feel betrayed by the story we’ve been fed? Not at all. It boils down to what we desire from our beloved clown prince of crime—except maybe that punchline