Aafter murdering five people (six if you include his mother), a very frail and scrawny Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) is admitted into a psychiatric institution. He is a shadow of his former self, and increasingly disconnected from his infamous Joker persona. This begins to change after he meets a fellow inpatient, a mysterious woman called Harley Quinn (Lady Gaga). She rekindles his desire to laugh out loud. They both put on clown make-up and climb into the rooftop, for the first performance of the film. This is a real event, captured by the cameras of the institution. Countless imaginary and allegorical dance numbers are scattered throughout the rest of this 138-minute movie.

An expert decides that Arthur is fit to stand trial. He is convinced that the Joker is not the byproduct of narcissistic/split personality disorder, but instead a premeditated and carefully staged performance. So he goes to court, where the bulk of the film takes place. The judge warns Arthur that he will not allow the defendant to turn the proceedings into “a circus”. That becomes virtually impossible after Arthur is allowed to wear his clown make-up. He promptly fires his lawyer and decides to represent himself. This gives him the opportunity to cross-examine some of the witnesses. He questions their morals, their fears and even their surname, in some of the films most finely scripted dialogues.

Joker: Folie a Deux is a meditation on sanity, psychosis, spectacularisation, voyeurism, schadenfreude, and toxic mimicry (ie relating to morally corrupt characters). Joker fans enjoy every second of the show, and cheer him on raucously. They admire the villain precisely because of his subversive behaviour. Those who found pleasure in watching him kill five people (one live on national television), now enjoy watching him deconstruct and mock the American justice system. Our allegiance too lies with the irresistible villain. Perhaps we are all latent murderers. This is also a movie about the nature of acting and the essence of cinema. The dilemma that Arthur faces is one experienced by many actors. The Joker/Arthur Fleck are a fictional version of real-life actor Anthony Perkins, a film star troubled by his murderous character Norman Bates (a role he reprised several times throughout his life). And it is our ability to switch allegiances that enables cinema to engage, rivet and deceit viewers.

Todd Phillips gave up the violence that closed his 2019 drama in favour of a more complex character study. The motivations of the Joker remain as elusive and ambiguous as ever. That’s entirely relatable. We all snap and put up a little performance every once in a while. Phoenix once again excels in the role of a thoroughly complex character, oscillating between palpable vulnerability, self-deprecation, conceit and cynicism. Lady Gaga is pleasant to watch, but her character lacks development. She comes out of nowhere, and the nature of her immediate bond with Arthur is poorly examined. It feels like a role clunkily inserted into the story for the sake of Oscar baiting. There is speculation that a further sequel is in the back-burner, created specifically for Gaga’s character. This would allow the scriptwriters abundant opportunity to rectify these shortcomings.

The music numbers are vaguely charming, however mostly unremarkable and decidedly unoriginal. Lady Gaga intones Burt Bacharach’s Close to Me (best remembered in the voice of Karen Carpenter) to great results. Joaquin Phoenix sings If You Go Away, an English-language version of Jacques Brel’s Ne Me Quitte Pas. Two fairly obvious choices. The less easily recognisable songs of Hal David and Anthony Newley are also sung by the two leads. A non-diegetic rendition of Sherman Kelly’s Dancing in the Moonlight infuses the film with a little optimism and groove.

Joker: Folie a Deux jremiered in the Official Competition of the 81st Venice International Film Festival, when this piece was originally written. An enjoyable experience, even if it never surpasses the original film. In cinemas on Friday, October 4th