by SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD
To say I have found comic book film depictions less than rewarding is understatement. So, I must level with you: I had zilch desire to see Joker, even though it featured three extraordinary principal actors whose work I adore - Joaquin Phoenix, the film’s Arthur Fleck, who evolves into the malicious, monstrous Joker, nemesis of Batman; Frances Conroy, Fleck’s once beautiful, but emotionally wrecked mother; and Robert DeNiro, the short-sighted, intellectually impaired, yet enormously popular Johnny Carson-like evening TV host, worshipped by Fleck.
Like most social workers, I have seen and continue to see endless cruelty and thwarted longing in my work, and in our society, with tragically limited appropriate resources. Because of this, I am revolted by films that exploit violence for the sake of depicting more violence. Although Joker premiered to acclaim at the 2019 Venice Film Festival, several reviewers placed the film in this category, and worse, and I believed them.
Why did I change my mind? My adolescent and teen clients convinced me that I was absolutely, completely wrong in my pre-judgment of Joker. The film exposes - screams - truths about the emotionally victimized and our country’s cruel and inadequate mental health awareness, services, and systems. The cost of abandonment and victimization was largely reviewed as self-pity - a profound social commentary ignored. Joker is warning. It is wake-up call. Please read on.
Although I do not work directly with individual children or adolescents, I do work with families and groups, which brings contact and connection with children of varying ages. I often invite extended family members into this work, for doing so helps to isolate perpetrators of family abuse (who do not wish to change) and contain the harm they inflict, a concept I will continue later.
Working with the young is pure privilege, and their spontaneous sharing and insights about Joker (reported to be the highest grossing R-rated film in history) propelled me to see the film and recognize that my pre-judgment was off-base and disrespectful to genius exposing shivering depiction of silent screams. Joker can best be described as tutorial; it illuminates how circumstance (one’s birth ZIP code), trauma, hopelessness, isolation, and cruelty - the refusal, the inability to hear another’s desperate attempts to reach out and be heard – and instead, if seen at all, to be viewed as worthless - can cause inner violent rage, leading to mental illness. My young clients’ understanding of all that so many ignore is, in a word, astonishing.
I'll share a few youthful observations from family therapy and group therapy sessions. From a 14-year-old boy, with clever and abusive parents, who use him as a pawn to avoid divorce: “No one listened to Arthur Fleck when he was young, and so the anger and loneliness inside of him went haywire.” And this from a 16-year-old girl, with an inappropriately seductive father, who demeans and ignores his wife: “The Joker felt like a freak, and to hide this, he put on a mask so no one could see how bad he hurt. Then he just stopped caring about anyone else or what he did to them.” From an 18-year-old high school senior who wants to become a social worker: “Arthur’s social worker had to say goodbye in one meeting, as her services were cut. It really threw me when she told the truth - no one gave a damn about her client, or about her.” From the 14-year-old son of a mentally ill mom: “My mom tries so hard for me. I see her in the Joker’s mom. Even their handwritings are similar. But the cards are all stacked against my mom and his.” From 12-year-old twins, a son and daughter, who finish each other’s sentences, as their parents who have only completed grade school and exist through welfare, look on with pride (as part of therapy, and sincerely meant, I have praised the couple’s marvelous parenting): “I have read about the life of Joaquin Phoenix. He has also suffered, but he has made a good life, and we will, too.”
Joker’s plot revolves around Arthur Fleck’s thwarted pursuit of emotional stability. Fleck longs to be a stand-up comic. During the day, he works as a clown, entertaining kids in a hospital. At night, he goes to comedy clubs, conceiving puns, which he dutifully records in his journal. Fleck’s dream is to be a guest on Murray Franklin’s (DeNiro) late-night talk show. We witness his tragic pursuit of a father figure to rescue, love, and support him; instead, his developing madness leads to the hellish transformation into Joker.
The entire cast of Joker performs brilliantly and seamlessly, but it is Joaquin Phoenix who merits concentration. The man himself, not only the part he plays, is inspiration; and surely, part of his acting acumen relies on his ability to access torment he well understands. Joaquin Phoenix’s parents had been followers of the religious cult, Children of God, which they abandoned in the 1960s when cult leader, David Berg, began to recruit through sex (including the early seduction of children). Impoverished, yet creative and resilient, they became missionaries in the southern U.S., Venezuela, Trinidad, and Puerto Rico, where their oldest child, River, and his sister Rain (Rain, Joaquin, Liberty, and Summer were born during this period) performed and begged to protect their family. In 1979, the family drove from Florida to Hollywood, changing their last name from Bottom to Phoenix, reinventing themselves as a family of child actors and singers.
River’s accomplishments are well known and brought acclaim and stardom. Joaquin and Rain were present the night in 1993 when River’s drug cocktail led to his death. Prior to his death, River shared a haunting prediction with Joaquin, telling him that Joaquin's acting would result in tributes far richer than his own. Following the death of his brother, Joaquin struggled emotionally for years, feeling empty and worthless, regardless of praise received, following each film undertaking. Now, in a stabilizing relationship with the highly regarded actor Rooney Mara, by his admission, Joaquin’s work no longer consumes and overwhelms, as he has a life that sustains and to which he can ever return.
Earlier, I wrote of how family therapy can isolate powerful family members who have no desire to examine and change their damaging patterns of interaction. This is accomplished by supporting forces of familial health, and in this way protect and provide confidence to dominated, frightened family members, including children and teens. On a societal level, social workers do the same by consistently advocating for appropriate systems and necessary programs, and educating about destructive forces in our society - and sheer ignorance surrounding us - all that would have offered Arthur hope and opportunity. All that would have destroyed the seeds of the Joker.
The depth of abuse and brutality in Arthur’s transformation is extremely unsettling and painful to witness, much less understand, especially by those who have not examined their own pain and loss. Yes, more concise editing may have strengthened the film, and the mania, criticized by many as over the top, is voluminous. Still, Joker offers a masterful depiction of the torment of those who feel, as they are treated, like trash (not only the economically vulnerable) - their self-hate expressed in myriad, frightening ways, including in the voting booth.
Joker is a film that can encourage insight into ourselves and others, and encourage self-awareness among our young clients who are seeing it in droves, leading to a clarity in personal and educational direction. Further, its truths propel us to continue to do all we can to commit to our craft and, despite opposition, never stop working to isolate and neuter forces that destroy essential options and necessary hope, regardless of powerful manipulation through selfish, seductive appeal. Joker addresses reality - our country’s cruel and inadequate mental health awareness, services, and systems. It empowers, offering a long-ignored call (and warning!) for the insight and action necessary for survival.
SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD, whose private and pro bono clinical social work practice is in Philadelphia, is a certified group psychotherapist and family life educator. She is a recipient of the Lifetime Achievement Award (2004) and the Social Worker of the Year (2018) from the Pennsylvania chapter of NASW, and the 2013 NASW Media Award for Best Article. In 2018, she was one of five graduates of the University of Pennsylvania School of Social Policy and Practice selected for the school's inaugural Hall of Fame. SaraKay is the author of Whoever Said Life Is Fair, Setting YourSelf Free, and Burnout and Self-Care in Social Work. Her writing has been published in peer-reviewed journals, newspapers, and blogs. SaraKay's professional life continues to be devoted to highlighting destructive societal forces through communication, advocacy and activism. Read more about her work at SaraKaySmullens.com.