In many ways, the real reason the sequel to Joker is called Joker: Folie à Deux has little to do with a shared delusion between Harley Quinn and Arthur “Joker” Fleck, and more to do with Todd Phillips and Scott Silver calling out the delusions that fans have about those they worship. A delusion that can be shared by both parties in the situation only so long as the “revered” obliges the projections being cast onto them (see: Taylor Swift). Once they stop, however, the fans’ “love” for them suddenly disappears, turning often to hate—hence the expression: “there’s a fine line between love and hate.”
In Harleen “Lee” Quinzel’s (Lady Gaga) case, the love she claims to feel disappears as soon as Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) refuses to be “the guy” (read: Joker). The one she fell “in love” with when she watched him blow Murray Franklin’s (Robert De Niro) brains out on live TV. Or the one who was portrayed in the “really good” (Lee’s words) TV movie about the entire course of events (presumably including dramatized scenes of Fleck’s hyper-shitty early life). So it is that, like fans with celebrities, Lee’s first connection with Arthur is entirely parasocial.
At first, of course, he’s only too willing to play the part she expects of him, knowing on some level that her attraction is rooted in what she knows of him through the media’s portrayal—which only focuses on his “Joker era.” As such, he’s often reluctant to be “full Arthur” around her, while simultaneously being amazed that she could possibly be interested in him in any capacity—Joker or otherwise. And yet, like many who have been glamored by lovebombing, Joker falls for Lee’s flattery easily, letting her beguile him with the notion that they’re both two broken souls who can “mend” one another. To boot, that he is powerful and can do anything he wants—a feeling that becomes even more adrenaline-boosting when buttressed by notions of “two against the world”-type love. As for Lee, she sees in Joker someone who can be her diabolical savior. The “sexy” solution to all her “psychotic” woes because he accepts them, is unfazed by them. And because his are so much worse.
Accordingly, it doesn’t take long for the pair to start projecting all of their unhinged ideals and fantasies onto one another—with Joker in particular constantly fantasizing about Lee in various musical settings that often remind one of a sort of “macabre La La Land” (particularly that sequence when they’re dancing with a giant moon behind them). Indeed, in one of many contrasts to the usual telling of Joker and Harley’s story, it is so clearly Joker who is more obsessed and smitten with Harley than the other way around (as Margot Robbie’s version elucidates in Suicide Squad and Birds of Prey). Because, as he tells his interviewer, Paddy Meyers (Steve Coogan), he’s a changed man now thanks to “not [being] alone anymore.” Falling prey to the old adage, “You’re nobody until somebody loves you” (which really should have been a musical number in the movie at some point). Or until you create a sinister alter ego and go on a killing rampage like Joker. Thereby becoming a magnet for freaks and faux freaks alike. Lee, as it turns out, subscribes to the latter category—ostensibly looking to Joker to make her “legitimate” on the disturbed and deranged front. As it transpires though, she’s ultimately more fucked-up than Joker in terms of callousness and plotting. Discarding him with ease once he renounces his Joker identity on live TV.
Up until that moment, however, she was willing to do whatever it took to be with him based on her false projection, hoping against hope that he’ll take her cues about how he’s “supposed to be.” Case in point, she even insists upon Arthur wearing the Joker makeup she smuggles into his prison cell. So committed is she to upholding this projection of hers. Joker, meanwhile, is still too blinded by his “love” for her (read: his own false projection), dumbly remarking, “You brought makeup.” Lee asserts, “I wanna see the real you.” She then starts to apply the signature Joker colors to his face. This apparently getting her “wet” enough to not be totally repulsed when Arthur asks her, “Can you do it?” before they start to fuck. As in: can she guide him/his penis on how to even “do sex”? The scene is among the grimmest in the movie, with no fantastical/musical elements added to it as a means to mitigate the drab, grotesque “consummation” of their “relationship.” A relationship that is a folie à deux in that each person has their own separate but shared delusion about the other.
Perhaps one of the most overt examples of this from Lee is her wording of the phrase, “When I first saw Joker—when I saw you on Murray Franklin… for once in my life, I didn’t feel so alone anymore.” That she has to remind herself that the pathetic, maquillage-free person in front of her is “technically” Joker—not Arthur—seems telling of the fact that she’s already noticed a disconnect between the man on the screen and the flesh and blood man in front of her. Who, if she’s being honest, can’t quite measure up to the projection she already saw and then built further up as her own.
Arthur’s parallel belief in Lee as a kindred spirit (especially since she lies to him and says she’s from the same neighborhood and also had an abusive childhood) is also doomed to be dashed sooner or later. Particularly since his “living in a fantasy world” tendencies start to ramp up as he dreams of the two of them together in various musical scenarios, singing such love songs as “Folie à Deux” (one of the original songs on Harlequin) and “To Love Somebody” (originally sung by the Bee Gees). The lyrics of the former are most telling of each person’s respective projection as Lee lackadaisically sings, “In our minds, we’d be just fine/If it were only us two.” This line indicates that without the inevitable outside influence of others, maybe their delusions about one another could stand a chance and the relationship could still survive…albeit on a bed of lies.
Lee then adds, “They might say that we’re crazy/But I’m just in love with you.” And yes, it is an adage widely disseminated in various art forms that the word (and act of) “love” is synonymous with “crazy.” To name a few examples, “The things we do for love,” “Love makes you do crazy things,” “Your love’s got me lookin’ so crazy right now,” etc. But the “crazy” in Joker: Folie à Deux is all about the insanity of projection rather than true love itself being the thing that makes a person go “crazy.”
Then again, isn’t every form of falling in love ultimately a product of projection? People fall in love with the version of someone they build up in their head only to unearth some form of disappointment after they’ve already convinced themselves it’s love. Gone too far down the rabbit hole to turn back. But for Lee, it isn’t too late (as it never is for rich girls) once she realizes that Arthur refuses to be “who he really is.” Or rather, who she and everyone else so desperately wanted him to be: Joker.
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