Metin_7

This is not a mere portrait, it is a profound work of art, a moving reflection of unbridled passion, a heartfelt tale of tenderness and sincerity.

Every scene is painterly lit with a finely balanced composition, and you can't resist the beautiful lead performers dissecting your heart, radiating the obvious presence of chemistry between them.

An impossible love is the most tragic and the most intense form of love, and Portrait of a Lady on Fire is a grandiose tribute to that.

So... I've finally seen it, in a near-empty movie theater. 🤡

Let me first mention that the Joker is my favorite comic character, particularly since visionary comic creators like Alan Moore and Brian Bolland, and Grant Morrison and Dave McKean gave unprecedented depth and darkness to the character in the late 1980s. If you don't know The Killing Joke (1988) and/or Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth (1989), be sure to check them out. Together with Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns (1986), those game-changing comics paved the way to the first darker Batman films, created by Tim Burton.

The darkness-with-a-wink of the Burton films was superseded by Christopher Nolan's more serious Batman trilogy in the late 2000s. Although I think the third part of that trilogy was weak and superfluous, the second part featured the late Heath Ledger as the bright, shining star of the show, single-handedly carrying the film to sublimeness. Because, let's be honest, Christian Bale's grunting Batman is a bit annoying compared to Ledger's fascinating Joker performance, lifting the Joker character to a new iconic level.

Joaquin Phoenix had the very difficult task to match or even outshine Ledger's legendary Joker. Jared Leto's attempt failed miserably in The Suicide Squad (2016), at least that's what I've read everywhere, as the film doesn't attract me at all.

What I really liked about the new Joker is the moody portrayal of the tragedy and isolation of mental illness, which was at times really emotional, mainly thanks to the intense, laudable performance of Joaquin Phoenix.

I thought the metro shooting scene with the yuppies was powerful, inducing an emotional release after all the injustice, a feeling slightly reminiscent to the gratification of the classic revenge scene in Oliver Stone's Midnight Express (1978).

Then there was the build-up to Joker's TV show appearance, which would be the climax after all the endured suffering and mockery. And to some disappointment the TV show climax turned out to be underwhelming. I expected more of it, such as a really gripping twist and/or an emotionally resonant speech to complete the built-up tragedy.

The subsequent urban riot scenes and the ending also didn't really make an impact, although I liked the fact that Joker didn't purposely stir up the disgruntled people, but was turned into a figurehead by them. I also liked the homage to Ledger's poetic police car backseat scene.

Joker is obviously a grim tribute to Scorsese's Taxi Driver (1976) and The King of Comedy (1982), not coincidentally both also starring Robert de Niro. There's also a strong hint of Death Wish (1974) in the plot development.

All in all I think Joker is a fine piece of cinema, but not a masterpiece, as many others label it. Apart from the praiseworthy performance of Joaquin Phoenix, the plot is reasonably thin, with familiar elements: an introvert main character in a hostile, nihilistic society is pushed over the edge by caricatural bad people.

Of course Joker is based on comic characters, but the film obviously tried hard to put the emphasis on realism, resulting in a slight identity crisis. It's not as credibly realistic as Taxi Driver, and not as comic-like as The Dark Knight.

The bottom line: in my humble opinion, Heath Ledger is still the best Joker.

Christiane F. is a raw, uncompromising, bleak portrait of the drug addiction epidemic around the early 1980s, based on true autobiographic events.

There is no glorification of drug use in this film and no moralism either, just matter-of-factly realism: getting to know the wrong kind of friends, curiously trying drugs, enjoying it, slipping into addiction without realizing it, and slowly sinking into a bottomless pit of dirty needles, painful longing for a shot, cold prostitution and balancing on the edge of life and death.

The cold turkey scene was impressively dismal, like the perfect anti-advertisement for heroin use. The performances were very good, almost giving the impression that you're not watching a movie but a documentary.

The scenes featuring a David Bowie concert in Berlin felt like a feverish dream of the early 1980s. Bowie was radiant and charismatic.

Christiane F. is the dreariest coming-of-age film I've ever seen. That doesn't sound like a recommendation, but this film definitely deserves praise. Be sure to watch the uncensored version for a complete impression.