Analysis: ’Joker 2’ Couldn’t Carry A Note


Joker: Folie à Deux flopped because making it a musical stripped away the grit and intensity that made the original a cultural hit.

The first Joker worked by being a grounded, raw exploration of Arthur Fleck’s descent into madness, captivating audiences with its psychological depth.

But Folie à Deux confused fans by introducing surreal musical sequences, clashing with the dark, grim tone that made the original so impactful. Instead of expanding on Fleck’s dark psyche, the film veered into flashy, out-of-place spectacle, alienating much of its core audience.

While Lady Gaga’s casting as Harley Quinn brought excitement, it couldn’t save a film so confused about its identity. The romantic subplot, paired with lavish musical numbers, undercut the psychological tension that had defined Joker.

Fans who were expecting another deep, character-driven narrative found themselves watching a movie unsure whether it was a musical, love story, or psychological thriller.

Adding insult to injury was the film’s massive $200 million budget, which created unrealistic financial expectations. Folie à Deux opened at a disappointing $50 million, well below the original Joker’s $96 million. The film needed strong legs to cover its costs, but its disjointed storytelling and alienated audience made that difficult.

The comparison to Cats is inescapable. Like Folie à Deux, Cats suffered from trying to impress with spectacle over substance, failing to resonate with audiences. Both films were expensive gambles, banking on visuals and star power to cover a lack of coherent, compelling narrative, and both missed the mark.

Folie à Deux lost sight of what made the first Joker resonate with audiences. It tried to be bigger and flashier but forgot that Joker succeeded by being dark, intimate, and unsettling. Instead of building on what worked, it sacrificed grit for spectacle—and the box office proved it.

The Devil Gets His ‘Grotesquerie’ On

Grotesquerie is an unsettling dive into the macabre, but it risks falling into the same over-the-top melodrama that has plagued some of Ryan Murphy’s past projects.

The series opens strong, with Niecy Nash-Betts playing Detective Lois Tryon, a hard-drinking cop investigating gruesome murders tied to religious symbols. Nash-Betts brings depth to Tryon, a character unraveling as she navigates her failing personal life and a case that seems to grow darker by the day.

Sister Megan, played by Micaela Diamond, adds an unusual energy as a nun obsessed with true crime. Her partnership with Tryon avoids feeling like the typical detective pairing, adding tension and intrigue.

Together, they navigate a world filled with grotesque crime scenes and questionable morality, with each murder more shocking than the last.

Murphy builds atmosphere well, using grim visuals and eerie soundscapes to keep the tension high. The show doesn’t shy away from disturbing images, pushing viewers into a brutal world that’s both fascinating and horrifying.

It’s here that Grotesquerie excels, keeping its audience on edge through suspense rather than cheap scares.

However, there are already signs that Grotesquerie could suffer from the same flaws that have hurt other Murphy shows.

The intense focus on shocking visuals risks overshadowing the story, and some critics have expressed concern that the series might descend into melodrama as it progresses. The balance between character-driven drama and horror could easily tip too far, leading to narrative chaos.

For now, Grotesquerie intrigues with its strong performances and eerie world-building.

But if it falls into the same traps as Murphy’s previous work, this promising start will be nothing more than a stylish descent into madness.

The Soft Prophet (or The Beauty of Utterly Here)


The Cot

Nothing to do but drowse and dream,
when sunlight slants through windows
and the house holds its breath.

You trust the world completely,
gentle beast of earth and hearth.

What is it about your stillness
that makes me pause?
You’ve found the secret:
the holiness of rest,
the revolution of surrender.

Tell me, soft prophet,
what god speaks in your dreams?
What wild wisdom runs
beneath that maroon velvet?

I want to learn
how to give myself to the day
as fully as you do,
how to make an altar
of any quiet corner,
how to believe
I belong exactly here.​​​​​​​​​​​
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