The Joker’s Fine Performance & Empty Refrigerator

Saw the Joker with Joaquin Phoenix. Wasnt really impressed and have no idea why people would walk out the theater or there would be alarm for probable violence. I’ve seen worse that caused no eyebrows to be raised at all.

The first thing that crossed my mind is “so a black woman is going to become attached to a weird white dude that was following her around. Who’s fucking fantasy is that? 🙄” OK so that’s my only spoiler because that part was too much a suspension of disbelief.

Domino (Deadpool) and Mrytle Snow (American Horror Story) was in this movie. Cool characters that made them totally memorable but totally forgettable and DOA in this movie. They could have been replaced by anyone and you wouldn’t care or notice but at least they are getting paid.

Phoenix did well in his performance of this traumatically abused and mentally ill Joker but this particular backstory is hollow and convoluted. You don’t know what’s real and what’s part of his imagination, which is intended but thwarts the story. There is a difference between ‘leaving something to the imagination’ and just leaving one altogether confused. This story was confusing and it wasn’t something that made you think about moral parallels after it was over (something that seems to be intended but fell slightly short). Normally I like these kind of characters and have some sympathy and understanding for them but I didn’t feel that for this version of the Joker (or any of them except Ledger). No sympathy and minor compassion I had but I really didn’t care if he lived or died like a Greek tragedy. His dying as a type of ordinary people’s arch hero might have been more fitting for the storyline but we all know he winds up in Arkham Asylum. Its hard to picture this Joker, who’s already 30 years old to Batman’s 12, giving Batman a run for his money in 20 or 30 years. He’ll be too old and he lacks the sarcasm, wit, macabre humor and forethought of his predecessors.

“Do I look like a man with a plan?” – Ledger.

Well yes, actually you do. More so than this one. Nothing was set up like the bank robbery in Dark Knight. This was just a man following his haphazard whims to kill at the moment and then ponder ‘who am I? I thought I was somebody then found out I was a literal nobody. Oh I’m gonna be solmebody alright!’

As I said, Joaquin Phoenix was great although his manic laughter seemed forced and unnatural. That was likely intentional but it lacked that maniacal charm of the other Jokers. Phoenix has a weird bod but he’s always been attractive to me. A little dark, weird, and mysterious. I like that and see it both in himself and some of the characters he plays. I like his dancing in this movie especially the first one in the bathroom. I thought it was theatrical and graceful.

Leto might have gotten the most flack for this character’s portrayal but I like the different incarnations of this character. They all stand well on their own. My least favorite is probably Caesar Romero but even he did well for that campy amusement that was 1960s Batman. My favorite is the sarcastic deadpan one liners of Ledger and Nicholson but I like the look and attitude of Leto.

After I watch movies I often read the reviews, blogs, articles and synopses of them. I read some of them for this movie and many kept referencing ‘The Killing Joke’ animated movie. I hadn’t seen it because I don’t care for cartoons (outside of Saturday morning Looney Tunes lol). I finally saw it recently. I didn’t like it. I was disturbed by the main female character, a wannabe superhero named ‘Batgirl’ playing an overtly sexualized second fiddle to an overbearing paternalistic father-figure that is Batman, who berates all her efforts in crime-fighting and trying to subdue a criminal who also sees her as nothing more than a piece of meat to be toyed with.

As if that wasnt enough, she is casually shot and maimed by the Joker as if she’s nothing more than background fodder. I thought she was something more than that, superheroes don’t get permanently maimed! And her near-fatal injury does nothing to excel the story. Batman doesn’t seem to care and her dad becomes some type of naked pawn in a Joker’s game of psychotic BDSM. The Joker also has her chained and naked dad look upon the naked pics of her scattered on the wall of an abandoned carnival ride.

I often heard and read that the origins of famous comics, nursery rhymes and fairy tales are dark but oh shit 😲🧐.

Batman reluctantly goes to save Batgirl’s father from the Joker. Her father, interestingly enough, doesn’t want him killed but wants him ‘tried by the book.’ Batman subdues the Joker, says he can’t kill him because they are somehow intricately linked and need to get to know each other more, the Joker tells him a joke, and they both start laughing like demented old friends.

CUT!

And what. The. Fuck 🤔🙄

So ofcourse I go looking up (white) feminist theory on this and wasnt disappointed at what I found. They called out the same sexist and misogynistic plotline I saw in the movie. Besides sharing the main characters of the Joker and Batman/Brucewayne, I still didn’t understand what connection this this particular animated comic had on the live-action versions of Batman and the Joker.

Let me digress and say I’m not a fangirl with a lot of history and knowledge about comic books or the popular forms of media it creates. I never read a graphic novel outside the little leaf booklets they gave in school. I’m not a fan of cartoons and series based on DC and Marvel graphic novels. My interest only developed a few years ago when I accompanied someone to see a live-action Marvel movie after the genre and movies had gotten hugely popular. My companion filled me in on some history and subplots from the comic book and movie genre.

I’ve seen all of the DC and Marvel movies from the last 3 years. This version of the Joker seemed glum and uninteresting but in keeping with my newfound interest I had to check it out. A computer in hand makes it easy to learn about things and get more information on stuff I’m curious about.

After seeing the new Joker movie and reading the more feminist reviews on ‘The Killing Joke’ I did make an unexpected connection between the two.

In the ‘The Joker’ starring Joaquin Phoenix, there is a scene where he takes everything out of the refrigerator and crawls in. It was weird and I didn’t get it. I thought ‘what a weird and uncomfortable way to kill yourself by suffocation.’ The reviews I watched on youtube didn’t make any mention of it either. I don’t think many people understood the meaning or significance of crawling into the refrigerator. A few fanboys wrote of it being a ‘womb’ or ‘escape’ to some place frozen and void and emerging as the deranged Joker.

In my online research of ‘The Killing Joke,’ I learned about a trope called ‘women in refrigerators.’ ‘Tropes’ are hackneyed cliches that always seem to happen anywhere or in particular situations like ‘the black guy always dies first in a movie’ or ‘women running through the woods in high heels while being chased by a deranged killer.’ This is stuff you can always expect to happen no matter what and there’s even running jokes and parodies in the common movie tropes themselves.

So the ‘women in refrigerator’ trope is about women sacrificing themselves (becoming a victim to torture, rape, and murder) to move the male protagonist along in a movie.

According to wiki: //”Women in Refrigerators’ is a website created in 1999 by a group of feminist comic-book fans that lists examples of the superhero comic-book trope whereby female characters are injured, raped, killed, or depowered (an event colloquially known as fridging), sometimes to stimulate “protective” traits (of male characters). It is often a plot device intended to move a male character’s story arc forward, and seeks to analyze why these plot devices are used disproportionately on female characters.”//

Well, I already know why this plot device is used ‘disproportionately on female characters.’ History and societal sexism and misogyny ofcourse.

But lo and behold, this gives a different take to the Joker going inside his refrigerator.

Like the women in this particular movie-media trope, he is powerless. Stunted. Maimed. A literal nobody. He can not grow anymore as a character and a person so he’s been sacrificed to move his other male character arc along, his alter ego, The Joker. So the fanboys were right about it being a metaphorical ‘womb’ and ‘escape.’ The coldness matches his white look and personality, but it was the fanGIRLS who went deeper into their analysis of character tropes and whomever directed this movie came up with that wonderful inside gem (intentional or intentional? 🤔).

I like. I like it much.

And I would not have understood it or known it it until I read of it and started making connection

Love the Crazy & Abuse The Rewards

Why do men say they like crazy women? That is not a sign of a healthy relationship, a healthy stable-minded woman, and its not good for the man or the woman in the relationship. I don’t want a man who says he likes or wants a ‘crazy woman’ either. He has issues and associates love and desire with jealousy and rage. No, that’s not healthy. It also means he won’t properly address my issues and may do things to drive me into the jealousy and rage he thinks translates into caring and desire. That’s not the type of man I need.

I am normally shy, introverted, and reserved. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 16 during my first stint in the mental hospital. I thought they were wrong. I’m usually on a pretty even keel all the time until i’m messed with. I can’t fight but I will and I will try. I had been kicked out of 3 children’s group homes and I thought I was only spending time in the hospital until they found me another. For some reason, I got in trouble with someone at the hospital, a staff member I think, and picked and carried to the ‘quiet room’ by 4 grown men. I thought it was just an indiscretion but who knows how that confirmed my disorder.

After I married, I was not any better but I thought I was fine even after my angry ragey moments. I say ‘we fought’ but I was really the one who started it all because of my inability to communicate with him and express myself verbally. He was emotionally and intellectually void and when my emotional needs were not addressed I felt angry and repressed. He’d say something stupid and defensive and I would start hitting, kicking, biting, cursing him out and trying to stab him. I…
– threw his car radio out the window while he was driving
– threw a rage in the front seat, kicked the windshield and cracked it
– tried to hit him with a hammer and when he out ran me I knocked out the side window to his truck
– slashed his tires
– locked him out the house
– threw his clothes on the ground into grass
– tried to push him down a short flight of stairs but he grabbed me and we’re both tumbled
– tried to physically push him out the house and onto the ground but he grabbed me, reversed it and I was outside my own home. I tried to stab him but couldn’t so I called the police.
-litterally kicked him outta my bed and onto the floor while cursing obscenities

In my mind these were all singular incidents that didn’t imply anything was wrong with me. Looking back… I had issues. This was not how love and care was supposed to be. This isn’t how it was supposed to look.

To his credit, he never punched me or hurt me. He mostly restrained me. Punched me in the arm (lightly but enough to hurt and get me stop fighting for the moment). He smacked me when I smacked and punched him. When it all died down, he calmly picked up his clothes and later got his car fixed and didn’t mention it anymore. When I locked him out he went to stay with his sister. When I kicked him outta bed or our room he took to the couch.

I was not happy with these outcomes and called him weak and neglectful. Like a ‘typical man’ he didn’t want to address issues and problems, he wanted them to be behind us out of sight and out of mind. And like a ‘typical woman’ I wouldn’t let it rest and brought up past shit during every argument and fight. To me, the only way to get over it was to talk about it and address it. If we don’t then it gets buried under a mountain of other shit to drive me crazy. Seems like it could have been this way forever as he was a family man and just wanted to take care of his wife and children, relax, drink a beer, BBQ, and mow the fucking lawn.

I would not be so mollified and didn’t break him until the infidelity. I did a lotta crazy shit that he had apparently gotten use to as part of those ‘crazy’ass women’ until the ‘ultimate betrayal.’

Having a ‘crazy’ass woman’ is not good and healthy. He was not a healthcare professional. I wanted him to be my savior from childhood abuse, trauma, and neglect and when he couldn’t do that I was hugely disappointed and he was ill equipped to handle the fallout. I was back in the hospital twice during our time together. Once for calling the suicide hotline and telling them I was gonna shoot up the Housing Authority, and the other at his insistance after I tried to cut him. He restrained me and I screamed at my then 2 y.o to “give me a fucking knife!”

I never regretted what I did and I was sorry for hurting him with the ‘ultimate betrayal.’ He didn’t deserve it but I didn’t quite care especially when I did it the 2nd time around. I had found some semblance of what I needed and I knew I was not going to stop cheating so I had to leave. Not to be with those other men, they were nothing. My husband looked better, worked harder, was more dedicated, more loyal, not a felon, not a substance abuser, had a bigger dick and was sexually satisfying. I threw it away for crumbs… because something was wrong with me and I didn’t know what or why.

I was afraid of other relationships. I met nice promising men including one in particular. The closer we got the more fearful I got. I was afraid of putting my heart and feelings into someone’s hands only to be disappointed and I’m not above putting another man or any man through the same chaotic mess I put my husband through. I tried to sabatage our getting closer by detailing my volatile relationship history thinking it would run everyone off. I said I was an abusive cheater and I that I wasnt above treating all or any other men the same way, so they can run better run NOW!

They all said “well you’re not treating me like that now, you seem very nice. If and when we’re to that point then I’ll consider what to do then.’

I was incredulous and said they were stupid. ‘When a person tells you who they are, believe them.’ (the actual quote is “when someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time,” but all I had ‘shown’ was a nice, engaging, curious, straight forward goofy girl who smiles easily, ask a buncha questions and seems too excited over things they didn’t notice, care about, or take seriously. I guess that was in contrast to what I told them about being a crazy abusive cheater).

I thought they were desperate and stupid but I was intrigued they were willing not to hold my past against me. Some men (and women) online did, calling me an ungrateful whore and the reason why ‘good men’ didn’t trust women and why they treated them bad. I had encountered this sentiment once in real life, a former friend and her boyfriend. She had told him things I had shared in confidence with her, saying unkind things behind my back regarding my tumultuous relationship and behavior. When he got the chance to talk to me he cursed me, insulted me, and criticized me. Apparently it was women like me who had fucked him over in the past and that’s why he had a bad misogynistic attitude about them.

I couldn’t handle the criticism so at some point I closed down and closed off. I knew I was not going to be quiet about who I was and what I’d done, I just needed to be more selective about who I told. This became a sort of litmus test too, to determine their reaction and see if they could handle a woman like me. If the reaction was all bad, I needed to cut him off pronto.

In the meantime, I was still talking to several gentlemen and one who managed to outlast them all. He was not perfect but I didn’t care because he gave me what I longed for, emotional support and someone to talk to. In his calm manner and open discussion, he helped me realize many things about myself, my behavior, and my relationship. He felt sorry for my x but still found me worthy to love and trusted me. He said I had been spoiled in my last relationship and I didn’t understand that since I’m sure it had been lacking what I needed. He said “you’ve been spoiled because even after all that shit you did he still tried to accommodate and give you what you want. You tore up his shit and the was no repercussions.”

“Why would there be repercussions, it was our shit?”

“Were you thinking about ‘our shit’ when you tore it up.’

“No. It was his shit. And he fixed it.”

“And you didn’t have pay nothing did you?”

“Huh? Why dafuck would I have to pay anything?”

He shook his head. “Spoiled.”

“I’m not fucking spoiled! I want what I fucking want and if I’m not getting it then what use are you to me.”

Then he added that I was also controlling. Spoiled AND controlling? So not me! I had been denied much in my life and I couldn’t control it. I wanted to commit suicide at 9!

But when I saw my attitude towards him the longer we were together, it sorta clicked that maybe I was slightly spoiled and a wee bit controlling. I expected him to not only listen to me (which he did well) but also to take my suggestions, my advice, to accommodate whatever I said and wanted and I took over his medical trips to the doctor by not letting him speak and asking/answering all questions so I could get a clearer understanding of what was going on. I was convinced he didn’t ask enough questions, didn’t know enough, didn’t understand enough, and that I did.

“I got this. What do you think I did before I met you.”

“Apparently you missed out on a lot. But it’s cool because I know everything and what I don’t know I’ll ask about.”

This caused a little conflict… and I wanted to fight. But first I wanted to see what the results would be before I tried it. I didn’t think he would ever hurt me but I don’t wanna make the mistake of losing him either.

“You get on my nerves, what would you do if I hit you?”

“Well I’m not your x and I’m not staying around for you to do all that shit. I don’t hit women and if a woman wanna hit me and fight then I’m not talking to her anymore. We’re done”

“But you love me.”

“So. That don’t mean I gotta stay around and take abuse from anybody.”

“You can’t just leave someone you love.”

“Didn’t you?”

“GOTDAMMIT! 😤🙄 Thats a low blow. I did it for his own good”

“And leaving you because of that would be for my own good.”

“🧐😤🤔”

This was new to me. And intriguing. And this type of discussion was exactly what I needed and why I loved him. The foundation my husband created by which I judged all other men for my needs was working out fine. I didn’t bring much to the table but entitled sacasm and a bad attitude of distrust under a superficial layer of niceness but I got men who were calm, relaxed, passive, non-confrontational, affectionate, and willing to please. That’s what I like and wanted but couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t hit, fight them, hurt them, or break their hearts.

Profound words of wise lover:
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll hurt you?”

“No.”

“Why not. You know my history.”

“Can’t go around being afraid of what might happen. Sometimes the rewards outweigh the fear (or risk). If you’re afraid of getting hurt you’ll miss the rewards.”

I’m a reward? 🤔
Nobody ever told me that and I never figured that.

My depression, anxiety, and reflection of my past behavior and attitude help me realize I was not normal and exhibiting an emotionally healthy and stable attitude. I needed help and needed to stick with my medications and attend my doctor more regularly when I had one. I always thought my negative outweighed any positives and any effort to have me wasnt worth it unless you were just desperate to have somebody. I still think that so that’s why I stay away from most men and regard them with caution. The ones I have I love and am afraid to lose because who will be there to pick up the pieces of my broken mind after a rejection. Nobody. Nobody I trust and perhaps nobody I want.

Fear. Pain. Risk.

I can avoid it all if I just hide away in the comfort of my sanctuary and stay away.

But eventually someone will come calling and my curiosity will entice me to find out why.