detail study
"Hey, Penny," you say. "Penny Fleck."
The woman was dying, with an infusion tube inserted into her nostril, lying in the pale sunlight that enveloped the hospital bed. You said that you always hated her name, you shared the name of her surname, and then you firmly put out the cigarette butt, got up and walked to the bed, talking about your tragicomic judgment about your life, like a closing statement, while being cold, Patiently killed her with a pillow. The fake mother.
Last night, you walked through the heavy rain, as if you were carrying the truth of your own life in a hot darkness, and pushed open the door of fantasy love. There is naturally no salvation there, so that you are finally awake. You return to your home, naked from the deformed upper body of childhood abuse, and sit in the forest where fate mocks you, laughing wildly.
The darkness was scorching hot, erupting like a volcano. After cooling, solid ashes are bound to spread over the dead. The fake mother who was a delusional patient was just the first.
It all really started. Now, you don't have to doubt yourself because of a word you thought was your only close relative, dance with a gun in front of a TV music show, and feel half-intoxicated that you have another specious talent, so you miss the gun . You don’t have to think in vain and unconsciously that the strange woman you have a crush on will not call the police after finding out that you are stalking, but come to your door to give you a chance to show your comedic talents, and you have done it calmly for the first time, with remarkable results, which is rarely confirmed. Once - even consciously - I was able to do stand-up comedy. You don't even need to take medicine anymore because you've stopped struggling, and piercing the head of your ex-colleague who framed you is like piercing a sac of water, neat and tidy.
You have finally bid farewell to restraint and twisting, and can be free and unrestrained. Dance down the steep stairs you've trudged through countless weary journeys, dance on the stage you've only dreamed of.
Sitting in front of an idol of yesteryear, you can even control your laughter for the first time. Perhaps, at this point, you are still unsure whether to shoot yourself on the show, or even when you turn to the page of your notebook with your life testimonials. This page is a double testament to your class and trauma, where you wrote "sense" as "cents" and "whole life" as "hole life" (hole life); Seeing this again, you may be reminded of the situation when the black counselor pronounced that sentence in a true voice, and then reconfirmed that your dyslexia caused by purely objective circumstances has been limiting you A factor. But you've let it go, when the situation changes suddenly, your conversation with Murray slips out of your mind, the rage that builds up is out of control like your previous neurosis, and jumping over the only philosophical question of suicide shoots the gun at the gun Turning to others is the only result.
Murray Franklin, your gods of the past, your lost ideals, your last innocence, slumped red on his and their thrones. The shudder of existence shakes your legs, and you dizzy with pain and happiness. Philosophical problems disappear, replaced by infinitely expanding social problems.
The city is falling into ruins, and the people who are willing to call the Joker carry you out of the crashed police car, cheering for you to wake up. You're standing on the hood of the car, surrounded by smoke and dust, shouting so much that you can't help but dance again. Then you realize something, stop dancing, slowly open the corners of your mouth with a dagger, and let the smile nest in your face from now on. The crowd is like a sea, and your head and arms are surging. Unconsciously, you have become the incarnation of revenge at the bottom, a twisted flag, and a flower of evil of the times.
director and film
Todd Phillips "made his debut" in Hollywood with "The Hangover" and filmed "Joker" ten years later. It is not difficult to imagine that he has been depressed for a long time. This may once again exemplify the current mainstream life logic: disgust yourself first, then you are more likely to fulfill yourself. Don't say that he was nominated for an Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay earlier in 2007, because in the face of winning, the nomination is just a handmaiden.
Some people say that in addition to the details, the most interesting thing about this film is the lighting, that is, the use of light and shadow, but I don't think it is as good as the soundtrack. After all other attempts at identity/emotional identification have failed, the part where Arthur dances down the steps with his assumed clown name (counting from his dressed back down the hallway) is brilliant. Surging, dark, jumbled noises like sawing wood, indescribable human voices shouting, mixed in, and finally rising to a restrained, undulating force with kicking movements, implying that the future is still unpredictable - the clown can Suicide as a last resort, self-salvation, or reject it and turn the gun on someone else.
The plot fell to the latter, and the music at the end was subdued but agitated, and the tone was unmistakable upward. As far as artistic needs are concerned, this is appropriate. However, it also revealed the director's position: sympathy for violent resistance.
The soundtrack is the inclination. It's more straightforward than the story itself.
Maybe off topic
1. For Hollywood, the system is largely a tool used to shape both good and evil heroes. Looking back, this time was no exception.
2. A dark place cannot tolerate a little darkness from outside. It is understandable not to introduce it.
3. Under the strict review mechanism, the magnet chain is justice.
4. There is nothing really great in this world, except for the indelible light and warmth in a person's heart.
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