Todd Phillips’ Joker
The concept of the human psyche is one of great ambiguity. Lying just outside of focal awareness, our subconscious is a flowing stream of intangible power and idle knowledge, in a ceaseless entanglement with its own creation. Swedish philosopher and physician Paracelsus was the first ascribed with the scientific mentioning of a subconscious level of thinking, to which he accredited a great deal of his successful work in toxicology. It wasn’t until centuries later, when an Austrian neurologist by the name of Sigmund Freud developed an in depth psychoanalytic theory on the complexities of this layer of the human psyche. Our subconscious goes far beyond the act of learning and obtaining information. It is not a storage facility, but rather a serpentine network of instinctually pre-programmed data that dictates the majority of our interactions with the world around us. Directed by Todd Phillips, the 2019 psychological thriller Joker explores this concept, bringing a new level of profound depth to the superhero genre, and divulging the mysteries and psychological intricacies of a longstanding fan favourite - ‘The Joker’. Through deconstructing the life and mind of this infamous supervillain, Phillips unpacks the arcane nature of the human psyche, and with the help of three key film aspects places emphasis on the effects which societal pressure puts on the enigma that is the human subconscious.
Social constructs are a feeble attempt to grasp an understanding of the unknowability of ourselves and the
world around us. However the true problem with social constructs, is that society paints these assumptions
(often based on minimal prior knowledge) as objective truth: what many of us perceive as reality is reliant on
theseshared preconceptions. Because of this, we create boxes. We create categories for a collective, and in
doing so reduce other individuals - and ourselves - to a definitive label, a set criteria, a set manual on how we
ought to behave and how others deserve to be treated based on the box they’ve been placed in. In the case of
Arthur Fleck, who was no more than a boy when the abuse of his stepfather forced him down a winding path of
life-long trauma and debilitating mental health issues, these constructs have formed a suffocating reality.
After being attacked for a lack of control over his laughing condition on the subway, Arthur murders
two men in self defense, and another in a loss of self-restraint. He soon finds himself shaken and alone
in a public bathroom. Leading up to this point, Arthur had been consistently met with a lack of compassion
and an abundance of ignorance for his mental health conditions. From the verbal and mental abuse of his
coworkers, to being physically assaulted by strangers on two separate occasions, the consequences of falling
outside of society’s ideal benchmark had taken its toll. One foot after the other, Arthur steps into a delicate
accompaniment of the melody that resides in his heart. His body cuts through the air with an unprecedented
grace, balletic gestures mimicking an almost fluidic sequence of motions. He has music deep within his soul.
This display of unchained self-expression is not initially a representation of an abrupt or spiralling loss of
control, nor is it a failure to contain his ongoing list of mental health issues - this is his subconscious fighting
to break free from the conforming identity that Arthur has strenuously moulded himself to for so long.
However as the story continues, the motif of Arthur’s dancing develops into a more sinister foreshadowing
of destructive behaviour, the final scene showing Arthur dancing down the hallway at Arkham State Hospital
after evidently murdering his psychiatrist. Through the of this simplistically rich motif, Phillips dissects the
inner workings of a man thrown into a world designed to tear him down, and a society hellbent on trapping
him in the confines of a labelled box. For the audience, this is a telling portrayal of how the pressures of
societal normality can affect the psyche. We put limitations on our subconscious for the comfort of
others - and when our subconscious feels trapped, it grows desperate to break free.
Sigmund Freud’s theory of psychoanalysis divides the human psyche into a tripartite model, each layer
pertaining to different levels of the conscious and unconscious mind. These three layers are the ego, the
superego, and the id. While the superego represents the database of learned knowledge which exists in our
conscious mind, the id represents our repressed instinctual urges and desires. The ego represents the perpetual
conflict between the two, or the contradiction between our knowledge of what is right and what we long for.
This concept of Freudian psychoanalysis is best understood when applied to one piece of literature in
particular: The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. This tale depicts the life of Dr. Henry Jekyll, a man in
a constant struggle to maintain the dormancy of his alternate personality, Mr Edward Hyde. While Dr. Jekyll
was a prestigious and well-admired scientist, his alter ego Hyde was a manifestation of his worst impulses,
and a satisfier of his most rudimentarily innate desires - the id. Much like the superego and the id, whilst Hyde
and Jekyll are binary opposites, paradoxically, they are one in the same. This aspect of Freudian psychoanalysis
can also be applied to Arthur Fleck in Todd Phillips’ Joker, a purposeful combination of colour and lighting
in the scene following Arthur murdering the men in the subway working to characterise this idea of an
imbalance of power between the id and the superego. A flickering light illuminates the bathroom, a sickly pale
green washing over the decrepit stalls. An extensive degree of desaturation instils a sense of unease in the
audience, as the potency of this green hue overpowers all warmth. Immersed, Arthur continues to dance.
Embracing this imbalance, he welcomes chaos with open arms. The superego gives way to instability as
Joker moves into the flickering spotlight of this rundown Gotham bathroom, and Arthur reverts to his
default visceral state. Apathetic, impulsive, and perfectly devoid of morality, the id has silenced any surviving
slither of reason. Colour allows for visual representation of a transfer in power to be put forth to the audience
in this moment. An alike use of colour can be seen in David Fincher’s Fight Club. In this film, the director uses
desaturation and pale green hues to differentiate between the unnamed protagonist’s true self, and his neurotic
alter ego Tyler Durden. Through a similarly cunning use of green, Phillips and cinematographer Larry Sher
vividly illustrate Arthur’s acceptance of who he believes Gotham’s people have forced him to become in their
cruelty and limiting archetypes.
Paired with lighting, colour serves a second distinct purpose in the unveiling of Arthur’s descent into madness
throughout the film. Following a disheartening encounter with Thomas Wayne, we see Arthur alone in his
kitchen. The man he believed to be his father had rejected him without second thought, and the only woman
who had seemingly offered him love, nurture, and protection from his harsh reality was not the woman he had
dedicated his life to caring for. He stands over the counter in a trance-like state, looming shadows unfurling in
the deepest corners of the room as the malevolence that lurks in his subconscious once again fights to break
free from an exhausting face. The absence of light also draws attention to the sombre essence of the scene,
constructing a darker atmosphere and placing emphasis on Arthur’s declining mental state. Despite all he had
done, this atmosphere assists the audience in finding reason to sympathise with him for his ill-fated
circumstances. The dissonance between a warm orange glow emanating from the dreary Gotham streets and
the array of cool blue hues flooding the room around him reflects an inner struggle between Arthur and his
neurotic Joker persona; the conflict between the superego, encompassing Arthur’s remaining hope in society
and the knowledge of what is morally right, and the id; the embodiment of the most instinctual, primitive
strand of his subconscious, and his desire for violence and serving self-indulgent ‘justice’. With this use of
complementary colours and lighting, Phillips and Sher successfully establish a striking parallel between
Arthur and his environment, accentuating the symbiotic relationship between these two entities in the entirety
of its disharmonious nature.
Throughout Joker, director Todd Phillips uses the film aspects of colour, lighting and motifs skillfully to
delineate the deteriorating psyche of a man suffering from mental illness. Most importantly, however, Phillips
does well to separate Arthur from his conditions, and recognise him as an individual rather than defining him
by these pivotal traits. Elyn Saks is a professor of law, psychology and psychiatry at the University of Southern
California, and a woman living with chronic schizophrenia. In a powerful retelling of her story, Elyn delivered
this line in regards to the portrayal of those with mental illness in media - “Portray them sympathetically, and
portray them in all the richness and depth of their experience as people and not as diagnoses.” By creating
these alternative methods of understanding Arthur for the audience, most notable with a brilliant use of
complementary colours to reflect his subconscious battle, Phillips fabricates a story in which Arthur can bee
seen in a sympathetic light despite his flaws, as a man living with schizophrenia, rather than labelling him as
a schizophrenic. These details are not only crucial to understanding the entirety of Arthur’s narrative - they
also hold significance on a larger scale. The stigma which society has created around mental illness and
diverging from normative behaviour and ideals is exhausting for those who are unwillingly shoved into
these boxes. A study carried out by the World Health Organisation suggests that at minimum, 30% of those
with mental health issues will not seek help. This includes approximately 55% of those displaying signs of
a severe anxiety disorder, 56% of individuals with major depression, and around 50% of people who have
Bipolar Disorder. These shocking statistics outline exactly how these labels and the subliminal baggage
they encompass negatively impact our society. If anything is to be taken away from Arthur’s story, it’s this:
do not reduce yourself or others to a single word. It is a cheap and dwindling expression of your character.
Don’t be quick to define others with a label - the subconscious isn’t designed to be cornered.
