Nothing has spoken to how great the potential for indie cinema has been in 2024 than in its queer representation. Earlier this year saw Jane Schoenbrun breakthrough with the allegorical I Saw the TV Glow (2024) which mixed dysphoria with surrealism and analog media. Where the A24 film held an impressive box office run, there was another trans story that was even more radical and, thanks to some legal disputes, hasn’t left news cycles for roughly two years. Whereas I Saw The TV Glow feels like it was made in 1997 on a VHS tape with warped audio, Vera Drew’s The People’s Joker (2022) feels like it was made in 2003 and what happens when your family computer gets a Trojan virus from Kazaa. I mean that as a compliment.
In all seriousness, The People’s Joker is the shining beacon for what independent cinema can achieve in the modern age. As theaters have largely given up on people not named Tom Cruise, it’s more difficult to release smaller projects and have them resonate. Since 2022 when it first premiered, the film has been the subject of scrutiny with many questioning whether it would even be released. Even on the recent theatrical run, Drew has gone to painstaking lengths to state in interviews that her lawyers don’t want her encouraging this behavior. Not just anyone could make a DC Comics satire and get away with it. It takes skill but, maybe more importantly, it takes luck.
And with that, The People’s Joker became the subject of a national theatrical tour fitted with Q&A’s. The week before its VOD release found Drew participating in a wedding video that she states on Letterboxd is now officially lost media. Add in merchandise that says “I saw The People’s Joker and now I’m trans,” and it’s clear what this film’s intentions are. It’s not to poke fun at Batman (though it is there). It’s more to understand oneself through media.
Much like Schoenbrun, it’s easy to believe that Drew spent her youth in front of screens consuming media less because of its value and more because it made her feel less alone. This is a film that recognizes an age when the internet was in its infancy, where everything has a public access vibe. It recognizes the hours of watching talk shows which, no matter how offensively dated now, brought amusement to a confused young woman. Even the idea of treating the not-not stand-in for Saturday Night Live as a religious experience speaks to the turn of the century millennial who bought into messages less because they were life changing but because it was a chance to hear dirty jokes.
The world of The People’s Joker may look most familiar to those whose childhoods are also steeped in early [adult swim] programming, notably Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job. With over 100 credited artists, Drew’s world comes to life with a mix of crappy green screen and cobbled animation that feels dissonant from each other. There’s rarely any sense of realism and constant tonal shifts caused by abrupt editing. This isn’t a world for cineastes. It’s doubtful any of these images would be used on Every Frame a Painting without a hefty dose of irony. The film celebrates its cheapness in a way that finds some greater meaning in what it wants to say. Even the fact that a lot of the supporting cast (including Drew) have some connection to Tim and Eric only shows how much this is designed for the 2:30 AM crowd.
Despite feeling at times like a companion piece to Rapsittee Street Kids: Believe In Santa (2002), the film is a postmodern treatise that mixes its premature aesthetic with a somewhat mature screenplay. One of the more disorienting elements of the film is that it feels both rooted in arrested development and self-actualization.
While we shouldn’t be expecting Drew’s Joker the Harlequin to give a stump speech that solves transphobia, she does create one of the most wonderfully chaotic cases for letting trans women be. They’re just as confused and lost as any of us. They make bad decisions and even the anti-comedy speaks to some revulsion of the self. As any trans girl will tell you, there is an awkward period that is downright embarrassing, and Drew captures it beautifully. In fact, choosing to celebrate it with gawdy imagery only enhances the difficulty that comes with loving oneself.
Placing it on the backdrop of Batman may be where things become more muddled. In some respect, a film of equal quality without The Joker would’ve received less attention. However, what does placing a trans narrative in Gotham do to enhance the story? For starters, Batman as a character is somebody that several generations have grown up with. Since 1989 especially, there has been an influx of media focused around The Caped Crusader that has made them at times indomitable. To not have it in the public domain feels cruel, especially as kids playing heroes and villains continue to make up stories. They have been part of our lives in many forms. While Drew isn’t seeking to make a treatise as dense as The LEGO Batman Movie (2017), there is some rebellious spirit that is trying to, as the title suggests, give The Joker back to “The People.”
And what better way to do it than by embodying the millennial spirit of cosplaying as these characters while spinning iconic scenes into something meaningful to you? Want to see a trans woman do the stairs dance from Joker (2019)? That’s here. Want to see Bane heckle people at a comedy club? That’s here too.
More importantly, Vera Drew makes a strong case for why Batman was the franchise to explore her identity within. So long as you speak the same language, the film comes alive with this rich pathos that finds emotions radiating through the disguises. Early in the story, Joker the Harlequin mentions seeing the Batman Forever (1995) stand-in and wanting to be Nicole Kidman. Having the subsequent monologue be a nervous attack on coming out stories before admitting she doesn’t care what cis people think feels revolutionary. Whereas mainstream media is still too squeamish about allowing queer characters to exist outside subtext, Drew’s overeagerness to make it the whole story reflects how much art has often failed diversity.
The People’s Joker, even in its simplicity, is spinning too many plates to not have a few come crashing down. Even then, it’s admirable to see art try to tell a trans story that isn’t tragedy. This is best shown in the subtext of Joker the Harlequin’s trans boyfriend Mr. J (Kane Distler) who is based on the Jared Leto version in Suicide Squad (2016). Prior to that role, Leto played a trans woman in Dallas Buyers Club (2013) who was treated like garbage for the whole film. Despite controversy, it got the actor an Oscar. While not necessarily a talking point necessary to appreciate the playful jab of Leto’s Joker finally being trans, it does help to show the dedication that Drew has to molding the world into something more obtuse.
Most of all, it feels revolutionary to see a T4T relationship that is complicated. What starts as a conventional love story slowly evolves into a commentary not only on toxic relationships, but breaks down the notorious decades long depiction of The Joker and Harley Quinn as “squad goals.” There’s several fourth wall breaks that feel like Drew finally getting to share her personal grievances. The fact that it also works as a personal story of a gaslighting partner only shows how malleable substance is. The People’s Joker slowly evolves from a lark into a commentary on how art not only lets us down in diversity, but in healthy portrayals. By having Joker the Harlequin and Mr. J’s relationship end on a mea culpa arguably feels more radical than anything else the film is doing. Life isn’t a movie. The world isn’t over just because two people aren’t compatible.
This is a story where trans individuals get to experience love. Even if it doesn’t have a conventional ending, the big reveal at the end speaks to an emotional complexity that many wouldn’t consider. This isn’t simply a fantasy of wanting to be Nicole Kidman. This isn’t about taking down Batman – though Drew has some choice words about that. This was always about being happy with oneself. As a child, Joker was hopped up on drugs she calls “the purple haze of Smylex” and everything since was about coming down from the high and filling the emptiness inside. For as esoteric as the finale may strike some, the emotional wallop has been hidden just below the surface waiting for one last metatextual twist.
Another reason that The People’s Joker may deserve some accolades is that it’s one of the most irreverent coming out stories of the 21st century. This is the byproduct of growing up on [adult swim] with one eye and being too aware of online queer discourse with the other. There’s several points where Drew’s humor feels rooted in talking points that have long been mocked online. She even calls upon former boss Tim Heidecker to play a not-not Alex Jones stand-in spouting the most absurd conspiracy theories. This is a film that feels at times rooted in the bigotry of 2017 conservatism while also being so flippant to model citizen behavior. In a time where trans people are ostracized, Drew is more obsessed with the chaos of the self, painting our reality as the real enemy.
I do believe that the Batman iconography does at times wear a bit thin and shows its limitations. Still, The People’s Joker always felt more like an exercise than some intricate masterpiece. This is meant to level the playing field, create something so carefree that it’s not meant to age well. One can hope that this symbolizes Drew’s awkward transition years and the wackadoodle prism it existed within and whatever comes next feels more accomplished. Maybe she’ll just go around satirizing every film she ever watched as a child. Whatever the case may be, she at least has some interesting ideas that are worth expanding on.
For now, Vera Drew should be proud of the film she made. It does feel like it’s opening doors to the potential of cinema’s future. She sits alongside filmmakers like The Daniels who use a post-modernist pop art style to convey humor and pathos in ways distinct to the 21st century. As our lives become more online and we rely on avatars and fan fiction to portray what we want others to see, there’s a good chance new icons will emerge. Maybe they’ll speak some truths that larger audiences aren’t ready for. Even with its regressive pallet, The People’s Joker feels like progress in the right direction. No longer can it be said that there aren’t trans Batman characters. The only trick from here is getting them in the main cast.
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