Even die-hard fans have never seen the Clown Prince of Crime like this.make it a clown Princess of crime. Drew (who is also co-writer, director, and editor) blends an autobiographical story with dazzling, fantastical DC Comics iconography to create a story about a man who leaves his hometown of Smallville to find the Caped Crusader. She plays the Joker, a trans woman and aspiring comedian who heads to the dystopian Gotham City. A crime-fighting reality TV demagogue whose comedy is regulated by the cult training program UCB (United Crown Bureau), he has to fight to become the star of the popular skit show UCB Live. Having a penis is a prerequisite for climbing the strictly binary comedy ladder.
What’s a would-be clown to do who struggles with gender dysphoria, an addiction to the smile-inducing antidepressant Smilex, and childhood trauma? Our Joker goes rogue and teams up with the Penguin (an adorable Nathan Faustin) to start an illegal “anti-comedy” troupe of DC outcasts. Among them are the Riddler (Trevor Drinkwater), Catwoman (Daniella Baker), and a shapeshifter. Non-binary Poison Ivy (Carol of Ruin). She sparks a bad romance with fellow edgelord transgender stand-up artist Jason. While sparring with Jay Todd (Kane Distler) and the fascist Batman (Phil Brown), she grapples with her gender identity and finds her confidence to become her authentic self. To go.
By the time he’s dancing down the stairs to the Prince-sounding song “Party Woman” (a la 1989’s Batman), he’s struggling with a new name (Joaquin the Harlequin) (a la Joaquin Phoenix). He shows off his sense of victory. In self-acceptance, you’re rooting for this cackling anti-heroine who loves the anarchy that upends Gotham City’s social order, and perhaps the order of corporate Hollywood as well.
Written with Bry LeRose, narrated in flashbacks, and drenched in a relentless barrage of references and visual gags, the flashy, colorful “People’s Joker” features a head-spinning array of visual styles. Jump up and down enthusiastically. (Although references are made to Martin Scorsese’s Goodfellas, The King of Comedy, and many iterations of the Batman legend, the film that dedicates the opening titles with the filmmaker’s mother is Joel Schumacher, the author of Batman Forever.
Live-action, animation, computer-generated pastiche and other crowdsourced elements from more than 100 artists make this movie, even before UCB Live’s rough-and-tumble Sims version of Lorne Michaels. It gives the movie a psychedelic green screen fever dream feel. ” (voiced by Maria Bamford) pops up and an extradimensional doll joins the party. Eventually, this anarchy settles into its own shaggy visual language — the partially crowd-funded film had a sub-six-figure budget — and Drew’s deadpan but unironic portrayal takes the film’s overreach. Let the antics take root.
Edited by Sacha Baron Cohen and Tim Heidecker (who also has a cameo as Perry White via Alex Jones), Drew gives a performance that shows his character’s growing confidence. Her quick-fire comedy comes easily (her “yes, and” moment with David Liebe Hart, who plays her improv mentor Ra’s al Ghul, is a cringe-worthy comedy highlight). But there’s also a heartbreaking angst and tenderness about her that punctuates her scenes with her unsupportive mother (Lynn Downey) and her toxic boyfriend, Mr. J. She’s a riff on Jared Leto’s Joker and has “Damage” tattooed on her forehead.
It would be easy to drag this Joker into the darkness of his predecessor, but Drew found a way to transcend it in a fundamentally positive way. After a legal standoff with rights holder Warner Bros. Discovery infamously halted operations on the 2022 festival circuit, pre-credit cards have been issued with a warning that “copyright or trademark infringement is not knowingly committed.” While another credit card owner cheekily thanks WBD for the free release, her film, ironically, resonates with its material. and has proven scalability. All of this makes The People’s Joker the cinematic coup of the year, finally delivering a boundary-shattering anti-heroine worthy of Hollywood.
Unrated. at Alamo Drafthouse Cinemas (including Crystal City and Bryant Street) and Parkway Theater in Baltimore. 92 minutes.
