NERRRRRRD! vol. 89

In a way, Joker is a lot like that old Saturday Night Live sketch where Steve Buscemi throws a mad hatter party, and while all the other “mad hatters” are having a deliciously silly time talking about wearing socks on their feet, Buscemi’s character pipes up about how he likes to put cigar butts out on his penis and makes racecars out of his own poop. Or, if you haven’t seen that one, the one about the convention of “evil” inventors, who have invented shrink rays and freezing guns, until The Rock shows up and horrifies them with his invention of a robot that molests children. “What? I thought we were talking about evil inventions here,” The Rock’s character says. “Mussolini used to force-feed people castor oil until they literally died of diarrhea. I mean that’s gotta be where the goalposts are, am I crazy?” Joker is, essentially, Robochomo. It operates on a level of realness people neither wanted nor were expecting. “What, I thought you said this guy was supposed to be violent and disturbed!” you can imagine Phillips pleading.

The Only Thing Wrong With ‘Joker’ Is That It’s About The Joker