Film criticism thrives on subjectivity. Movies are composed of many elements—performance, direction, cinematography, sound, narrative—that can be assembled to suggest meanings audiences may accept, reject or reinterpret. Absences and silences can be just as revealing as what’s on screen. Because of this, any film can be read in multiple ways and occasionally a single interpretation dominates discussion, sparking hot takes, debate and controversy. Todd Phillips’ 2019 reinvention of the Joker character is one such film that generated intense public conversation.
Our Editor-in-Chief Joseph Wade summarized this dynamic neatly in his review: “Joker doesn’t really choose a side; it more offers a mirror to the viewer and asks you to read into it what you will… it is this distancing from the usually black-and-white, good-and-evil nature of comic-book cinema, and culture as a whole in the age of social media, that is the biggest contributor to Joker being read as problematic.”
Certain critics approached Joker with a specific narrative in mind, seeking evidence to justify an “anti-Joker” position. They highlighted tone, alleged political messages and perceived ideological risks. Here I address several common criticisms—questioning, clarifying and contesting the most persistent claims about the film, which I consider a legitimate Best Picture contender.
Don’t Watch It
Some critics urged audiences not to see Joker at all. One piece argued the film offers sympathy to a violent man, framing his actions as a response to social rejection and implying the film endorses his violence. That argument ignores nuance within the film. Arthur Fleck’s descent is not reducible to “people didn’t laugh at him.” His mental state, delusions and long-term mistreatment play a central role; empathy for a character with mental illness and social abandonment does not equal endorsement of his crimes.
Refusing to view a film and instead denouncing it based on hearsay or preconceptions is a weak critical stance. Critics should engage the work before forming definitive judgments. I entered Joker expecting a problematic message and emerged with a different perspective. Dismissing the film sight unseen undermines credible discourse about it.
Incels, the Alt-Right and Violence
“It’s an anthem for incels… the movie plays right into advanced fears that it could act as a kind of incel manifesto.” — A sampling of critical concerns
These fears were accelerated by the trailer and media commentary. The idea that Joker functions as an incel manifesto rests on equating social outsider status with the misogynistic, sexually-driven ideology of incels. That equation is a mismatch. Arthur is not motivated by sexual entitlement; he is a deeply lonely, mentally unwell man seeking happiness and recognition. The film intentionally positions him as a representative of broader societal failure—poverty, crumbling social services and alienation—rather than as a spokesperson for a specific misogynistic movement.
Critics also connected the film to past theater violence, citing the Aurora shooting after a Dark Knight screening. The actual links are tenuous: that shooter’s motives and the public narratives around the event were complex, and the association with a comic-book character was largely speculative. Blame placed on films often reveals pattern-seeking panic rather than concrete causal relationships.
Politically, Joker contains clear critiques of economic inequality and the erosion of social support. The film’s Brooklyn-like setting is riddled with garbage strikes, cuts to public services and a wealthy elite figure who embodies callousness toward the poor. Those elements align more readily with a leftist or Marxist reading than with an endorsement of right-wing violence. The protest scenes deliberately blur political identities, suggesting that anger, not a simple partisan message, drives unrest. The film questions systems and power more than it recruits followers for violent ideology.
Racism
Some commentators argued the film traffics in racist tropes by staging violent encounters with people of color or by reshaping historical events. One critique compared scenes to instances like the Central Park Five or Bernhard Goetz, asserting the film whitewashes or substitutes racial dynamics. Those readings, however, often impose an external narrative onto what the film actually shows.
Joker’s scenes of assault are contextualized as class-based abuse: Arthur is attacked by men linked to the wealthy or to institutions that mistreat him. The film does not present criminality as a racialized property of people of color. In fact, its notable minor characters—Arthur’s social worker, his neighbor, several hospital staff—are people of color who interact with him as empathetic, complex humans. The film’s social critique treats exploitation and suffering as broadly shared across racial lines, while implicitly acknowledging that racial divisions have historically been used to prevent solidarity. This approach frames racism as one factor within a larger class struggle, not the central pivot of Joker’s narrative.
Boring or Bad?
“The experience of sitting through it is highly unpleasant… claustrophobia and boredom.” — Dana Stevens
“To be worth arguing about, a movie must first of all be interesting…” — A.O. Scott
“This was one of the most middling films I have ever seen… I just graded it higher due to how great Phoenix is.” — Felix Biederman
Some reviewers labeled Joker boring, empty or merely a product. Those responses often reflect unmet expectations—viewers anticipating a conventional comic-book movie or a straightforward manifesto. But the film deliberately avoids those conventions: its cinematography frequently confines the frame to convey Arthur’s isolation, while wider compositions in the third act open into social chaos. Costume and color choices map emotional states, and the score amplifies Arthur’s inner dissonance. These are deliberate artistic decisions, not accidental inefficiencies.
Calling the film “middling” without examining what specifically misses the mark—pacing, structure, character development, thematic clarity—does a disservice to nuanced criticism. Many elements are openly crafted: Phoenix’s performance, the production design, the tonal choices. Whether those choices cohere into a masterpiece is a fair debate, but blanket dismissals that ignore these crafted components are incomplete.
Ultimately, Joker’s greatest achievement may be that it sparks conversation. Films that avoid risk often elicit safe consensus; Joker provokes disagreement, moral anxiety and deep interpretation. That the film resists tidy categorization—political, moral, cinematic—means it will be contested. Whether you see it as dangerous, brilliant, flawed or overstated, Joker has reopened discussions about mental illness, inequality, media responsibility and the consequences of social neglect. Those conversations are valuable, even when they are uncomfortable.
