Filmmaker and star Vera Drew makes the Batman nemesis a new kind of subversive icon.
Sometimes the only way to weather the pain of life is to laugh at it. In two much-discussed new releases, the brilliant theatrical takeoff The People's Joker and the Netflix series "Baby Reindeer," comedy is presented as a way to process trauma while defiantly asserting that I'm still here.
The DC Comics character of Batman's archnemesis, the Joker, is a modern archetype of the "killing joke" — the aggressive strength of laughter and the creative fertility of despair. For Christopher Nolan, he was an agent of chaos. In Todd Phillips' Joker (which will get a sequel this fall), he was an icon of the disenfranchised white male. Vera Drew's feature directorial debut, The People's Joker, takes the character's association with subversion a step further. Its protagonist is the self-named Joker the Harlequin (played by Drew), a trans woman who finds liberation on the stage of Gotham City's one underground comedy club, far from the controlling eye of a fascist Batman.
If you're guessing that Warner Bros. Discovery didn't sanction this take on its property, you're right. After its 2022 premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival, The People's Joker was pulled from circulation except for "secret" screenings — including one at Vermont's own White River Indie Film Festival in 2023, according to the director's then-Twitter feed.
This April, The People's Joker finally appeared in theaters, bearing a disclaimer that describes it as a transformative fair use of the DC mythos. Don't miss the chance to see it on Thursday, May 9, 7 p.m., at Main Street Landing Performing Arts Center in Burlington, presented by the Vermont International Film Foundation.
It would be easy to laud The People's Joker just for deconstructing the superhero cinematic industrial complex from a queer perspective. But it's also a visually stunning film, alternating seamlessly between live action and the animation styles of more than 100 artists. Drawing on her background as an editor, Drew has crafted a trippy collage, a frenetic ride through the pop culture landscape, halfway between Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse and the weirdest TikTok account you ever stumbled across.
At the core of it all is a solid coming-of-age story that reclaims the spirit of the campy Batman outings of Joel Schumacher, to whom the film is dedicated. In this alternative version of Gotham, the seldom-seen Batman is a tyrant who forbids all comedy except "UCB Live," where players are rigidly gender-segregated — a knowing dig at comedy training juggernaut Upright Citizens Brigade.
Rejecting this coercive laugh machine, our protagonist joins forces with other misfits to open an "anti-comedy" club. They include a lovable version of the Penguin (Nathan Faustyn) and the acerbic edgelord Mr. J (Kane Distler), who helps Joker embrace her trans identity while also drawing her into the spiral of an abusive relationship.
Cowriters Drew and Bri LeRose know the material they're satirizing, and The People's Joker never stops being funny. The jokes come thick and fast, layered with self-conscious meta-commentary. But these are the well-earned kind of laughs, derived from bitter experience of just how cruel the world can be.
click to enlarge
Courtesy Of Netflix
Richard Gadd's self-referential series has complexity to go with the cringe.
Donny Dunn, the protagonist of the viral seven-episode series "Baby Reindeer," knows something about "anti-comedy" — as does Richard Gadd, the Scottish comedian who plays him. "Baby Reindeer" began as an openly autobiographical one-man show. Its subjects — stalking and sexual abuse — are anything but funny. But Gadd's keen observation and brutal honesty redefine cringe comedy for a new generation.
Donny is a young London bartender and standup comedian whose absurdist antics leave audiences cold. But he does have at least one fan: middle-aged Martha Scott (Jessica Gunning), who walks into his bar one day and describes herself as a lawyer to the stars. With her self-glorifying monologues of dubious veracity and her casual disrespect of boundaries, Martha is a walking red flag. But she's also entertaining, and her innuendo-laden compliments flatter Donny, who's currently living with his ex's mom and trying to figure out his sexuality. Though he doesn't reciprocate Martha's romantic interest, he lets her into his life — and immediately regrets it.
Imagine a version of Fatal Attraction where there is no attraction, only one person's obsessive desire for control and the other's flailing horror. When Martha bombards Donny with misspelled emails that veer wildly between declarations of love and hate, we know she doesn't really want him as a boyfriend, or even as a friend. She just wants all of his attention. And when she shows up in clubs where he's performing and makes herself part of his ailing act, she comes dangerously close to steering his narrative.
It's embarrassing to admit that you trusted the wrong person — perhaps especially embarrassing for men — and "Baby Reindeer" plumbs the depths of that embarrassment. It doesn't spare Donny's vanity, either. We want to yell at him to assert himself, yet we understand his self-defeating behavior because the show traces its roots.
In traditional comedy, a woman like Martha would be treated as a laughingstock or a mere inconvenience. Here she gets her due, both as a compellingly perverse personality and a physical threat. Like The People's Joker, "Baby Reindeer" questions some of the most basic and unconscious assumptions we make about gender and power. It's also funny, in the darkest way. While Joker the Harlequin does eventually surmount her trauma to attain comedy transcendence, whether anyone gets the last laugh in Gadd's scenario remains an open question.
Got something to say?
Send a letter to the editor
and we'll publish your feedback in print!
In addition to La Chimera, here's what is playing in Northern and Central Vermont movie theaters this week. Listings include new movies, vintage films and a directory of open theaters.
In addition to Dune: Part Two, here's what is playing in Northern and Central Vermont movie theaters this week. Listings include new movies, vintage films and a directory of open theaters.
Bio:
Margot Harrison is the Associate Editor at Seven Days; she coordinates literary and film coverage. In 2005, she won the John D. Donoghue award for arts criticism from the Vermont Press Association.
From 2014-2020, Seven Days allowed readers to comment on all stories posted on our website. While we've appreciated the suggestions and insights, right now Seven Days is prioritizing our core mission — producing high-quality, responsible local journalism — over moderating online debates between readers.