THE PEOPLE'S JOKER - Mark Reviews Movies

The People's Joker

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Review by Mark Dujsik | April 4, 2024

What is the origin story of a superhero or supervillain, if not a tale of transformation or, more to the point of The People's Joker, transition? That's one of the many ideas at the core of co-writer/director/editor/star Vera Drew's debut feature, a parody of both a particular universe of comic book characters and the world of mainstream comedy. The whole project feels like a couple of inside jokes piled atop each other, and in between that, struggling to rise above the continual gags, is a personal story of self-realization.

It's certainly a daring movie, beyond the potential issues and battles regarding copyright law that could result from its release. Here, we get a disclaimer at the top, asserting that this a fair-use parody, and some similar language below the title card, as well as end credits that include the basic argument, a list of lawyers, and a large proclamation that even more anonymous attorneys are presumably ready for any sort of legal challenge that could come the movie's way.

The best bit regarding such defensive statements, perhaps, is a cheeky acknowledgment of thanks to the parent media conglomerate that owns characters like Joker, Batman, Poison Ivy, and others who appear plainly in this story. Controversy, after all, is often the best marketing. Then again, maybe that gratitude is sincere because the heads and legal team of the company came to their senses about how much real or perceived damage a little indie movie could have on one of its many, many brands.

Whatever the case—and future legal cases—may be, Drew proves to possess a fairly deep knowledge of comic book universe she's using as the backdrop for this story. That's definitely the more accessible element of the movie's two-pronged send-up approach, considering the fact that the proliferation of superhero movies over the past couple decades has made all of us armchair experts of the material to one degree or another. Here, Drew plays a transgender woman who eventually comes to be known as Joker the Harlequin, a stand-up comic who challenges the established order of professional comedy in Gotham City and laws that have made unauthorized comedic performances illegal.

The world of this tale is fascinating, in terms of both its narrative world-building and the do-it-yourself ways in which Drew brings it life. Batman (voice of Phil Braun), for example, has retired from crime-fighting, publicly announced his secret identity as Bruce Wayne, and started a Presidential campaign. He's always a two-dimensionally animated figure, still donning the cape and cowl but also sporting a curly mustache that immediately makes us think of a silent-era, melodramatic villain. Considering the movie's dissection of the Dark Knight's relationships with a string of underage Robins, the facial hair fits.

One of those former Robins, by the way, is yet another Joker, specifically Jason Todd (Kane Distler), a trans man whom our Joker comes to affectionately call "Mr. J." On one level, the character serves as the epitome of a psychologically abusive romantic partner, and on another, Jason is a direct parody and deconstruction of a particular cinematic portrayal of the Joker. The "damaged" tattoo on his forehead should give away which one.

There's something admirable about the way Drew and co-screenwriter Bi LeRose have taken apart all of these characters and, at times, their portrayals in specific pieces of media (Jason's back story, for example, is shown by way of panels—or very good facsimiles thereof—from maybe the most famous Batman graphic novel), only to rebuild them from ground up and with a different perspective on their purpose, goals, and meaning to this particular tale. The same can be said of the physical world itself, which combines hand-crafted models of Gotham, a cartoony landscape of our Joker's hometown of Smallville, and the extensive use of green screen to show us other locales. Some of the characters are humans in costume, and others are cartoons, while a select number are brought to life by cheap computer animation, such as Ivy (voice of Ruin Carroll) and, for reasons that get into the other satirical target here, Lorne Michaels (voice of Maria Bamford), who runs a late-night comedy TV show and a pyramid scheme of an improvisational troupe.

That's where and how things become a bit too cluttered for the movie's own good. The story, its aims, and its multiple targets are all over the place, ranging from the meticulous crafting of the funhouse mirror of this comic-book world to a scattershot attack on the very notion of something like a comedic "institution" (Michaels' long-running show is one, obviously, and the acronym of the story's improv company, called the United Clown Bureau, might ring a bell for some).

Somewhere in here, too, is a far more sincere tale of our Joker's origin, as a kid (played by (Griffin Kramer) whose mother (played by Lynn Downey) treats the notion of gender dysphoria as a personal slight against her as a parent. More importantly is how that relationship leads to more real confusion and turmoil than living the identity this Joker feels in the core of herself.

The People's Joker is ambitious and admirable for its scope—not only in creating this world, especially on what's obviously a limited budget (used imaginatively), but also in just how much it wants to say. It's ultimately and, often, confoundingly too much.

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