Heath Ledger Is Not the Best Joker

Deconstructing the late actor's portrayal of the Clown Prince of Crime

I never really “got” the whole Heath Ledger thing. In his breakout role as aloof heartthrob Patrick Verona in 10 Things I Hate About You, he channeled about as much depth of character as Luke Perry playing Dylan McKay…just with longer hair. Ledger was so bad in The Patriot he actually distracted from Mel Gibson’s hammy performance and the usually-solid Jason Isaacs’ best (worst?) Snidely Whiplash imitation. Ledger was completely one-dimensional in the laughably awards-pandering Monster’s Ball, and he displayed an abject lack of comedic timing in The Brothers Grimm.

While Brokeback Mountain bored me so much I never finished watching the movie, I can’t complain about Ledger’s work in the film. Guided by the inconsistent Ang Lee, I finally saw in Mr. Ledger a glimpse of the charisma and talent so apparent to everyone else. But given his history of okay-to-bad performances in crap movies, I was pretty disappointed that director Christopher Nolan cast him as the Joker in The Dark Knight. Of course, I was the only one disappointed, it seemed, as everyone and their mother blogged about how great Ledger was going to be. But not me. I didn’t drink the Kool-Aid. I didn’t buy the hype.

Well, internet…I admit it. I’m stupid. You’re smart. I was wrong. You were right. You’re the best. I’m the worst. You’re very good-looking. I’m not attractive.

Heath Ledger was amazing as the Joker. It was the best performance of his life. The best performance of any actor in a supporting role that year. One of the best performances of a villain ever put on film. But it wasn’t the best Joker of all time. Not even close.

The Dark Knight

Ledger deserves a great deal of praise for his portrayal of the Joker. However, he must share that praise with the wonderful part written for him by David S. Goyer, Jonathan Nolan and Christopher Nolan. The script was very obviously influenced by important works in the Batman comics canon. Notably, TDK‘s Joker publicly announces his intent to assassinate public servants, then follows through. This is spot-on the plot of the Batman #1, which also happens to be the Joker’s first appearance.

During the course of TDK, the Joker relates multiple different origin stories, leaving the viewer ignorant of how the Joker evolved into the monster he is. This echoes the Paul Dini one-shot Mad Love (1994), as well as issue #85 of the Robin series, “Fools Errand” (2001) by Chuck Dixon.

And perhaps the greatest influence on TDK‘s Joker – as well as the overarching themes of the film itself – is Alan Moore’s legendary 1988 one-shot Batman: The Killing Joke. In The Killing Joke, the Joker isn’t concerned with pulling a heist. He doesn’t care about matching wits with Batman or controlling Gotham’s underworld. No, what the Joker wants is to prove a point: that any man can be broken, that any man can be pushed too far. The Joker wants to illustrate how insane the world is and that all of society’s rules and regulations, that “everything anybody ever valued…it’s all a monstrous, demented gag.” To prove his point, the Joker severs Barbara Gordon’s spine with a well-placed bullet, before stripping her naked and photographing her while – it’s alluded – his henchmen sexually assault her. He then kidnaps Barbara’s father, chains him up like a beast and attempts to drive him crazy by showing him the pictures and subjecting him to abuse and humiliation.

In very similar fashion, TDK‘s Joker is out to prove a point: he wants to prove that the people of Gotham can be just as ruthless as he is under the right circumstances. He tears down Gotham’s White Knight, Harvey Dent, in brutal, spectacular fashion. He challenges the citizens of Gotham to kill citizen Coleman Reese to spare their own lives. And finally, he pits a boat full of prisoners and a boat full of citizens in a deadly game of chicken against one another.

Yes, Goyer, Nolan and Nolan did their homework. They drew upon the well-established Joker canon to create a complex, multi-layered Joker. Their Joker is a man who plans extensively in order to fulfill his mad intentions – be it a bank robbery, a hostage situation or the aforementioned boat scenario – but can convincingly ask his prey, “Do I look like a man with a plan?”

Ledger dove into the role, filling out the complex character with 40% Charles Manson, 40% The Crow (1994 movie version), 10% Rain Man and 10% Groucho Marx. The character is dark and murderous, with nervous ticks, gallows humor and enough charisma to mesmerise even the most jaded cinemagoer. He’s fascinating…like crime-scene photos or that horrible car crash on the 405 you pass by a little too slowly, hoping to catch a glimpse so you can later regret seeing something that can’t be unseen.

There are two big problems, though, with TDK‘s Joker. The first problem is that Goyer, Nolan and Nolan cherry-picked elements of the Joker that fit into their grim, “realistic” take on the world of Batman. Their Joker is an amazing character, but their Joker can only exist in the world of Batman that they’ve created.

The second problem is that the Joker from “The Killing Joke” sucks. That’s right, fanboys. Go ahead and piss your pants. “The Killing Joke” sucks. Even Alan Moore knows it, calling his lauded work, “clumsy, misjudged, and [devoid of] real human importance.” The fact is that a Joker who beats Robin to death with a crowbar, a Joker who tries to patent disfigured fish, a Joker who acts on violent impulse is a compelling Joker, a Joker who reflects the pitiful nature of man’s desires and plans. A Joker who actively strives to reflect the pitiful nature of man’s desires and plans is just another pitiful man with pitiful desires and easily-thwarted plans. When the Joker understands his purpose, the subtext that makes him so compelling becomes text. Taking away the Joker’s subtext makes him a shallow character, good for nothing but shock value. That’s one reason why Moore’s “The Killing Joke” rings hollow to him.

The Joker

In the 70 years since the Joker was first created, hundreds of comic book writers, artists and editors have helped shape the character. On screen, a handful of actors have been given the opportunity to bring the character to life. So many different portrayals of the character across so many different eras of American pop culture make it impossible for anyone to claim a “definitive” version of the Joker.

Take, for example, Joker’s appearance in Batman #2 (1940), where he is a murderous jewel thief, medieval weaponry expert and head of Crime Syndicate, Inc. Or think about Julius Schwartz and Denny O’Neill’s nine-issue Joker series (1975) which features a nearly harmless Joker playing tag with Two-Face and breaking open a gumball machine to steal the pennies inside. Or what about Jim Starlin’s Joker – from the storyline “A Death in the Family” (1989) – who accepts a role as the Iranian ambassador the U.N. only to attempt to assassinate the entire U.N. Security council?

While each of us comic book fans might prefer one version of the Joker over another, each version of the Joker – no matter how different – makes a valuable contribution to the Joker myth.

Batman: The Animated Series

In 1992, Batman: The Animated Series debuted on Fox. If you’re nerdy enough to be reading this article, then you probably don’t need to be told how utterly AWESOME this program was. Who cares about the Emmy awards it won? Who cares about its commercial success? It was simply bad ass. The artistic design paid deep homage to the classic Max Fleischer Superman cartoons, yet mixed goth, gothic and art deco styles with a pulpy, film noir tone to create an aesthetic sensibility all its own. The scripts were kid-friendly while maintaining adult themes consistent with – and often inspired by – the darker, grittier Batman comics. And then there was the voice acting.

All of the voice acting in Batman: The Animated Series was excellent, but Mark Hamill’s portrayal of the Joker stood out like the moon in a night sky filled with stars. On the surface, his cartoony voicework seemed more akin to Caesar Romero’s portrayal of the Joker in the classic, campy 1966 TV series Batman. This was a slapstick Joker, a Joker that didn’t curse or kill. This was a Joker that rode roller coasters for fun and pouted when he didn’t get his way. But beneath the surface, this Joker was a homicidal maniac.

Have you seen The Silence of the Lambs? Do you remember the scene where Hannibal Lecter meets with the senator whose daughter has been kidnapped by Buffalo Bill? Do you remember how Hannibal Lecter tells the senator, “Love your suit!” with delicious malice? Foppish, humorous, completely inappropriate in tone and context, but not at all vulgar or offensive out of context. That is Hamill’s Joker.

Hamill’s Joker locked Batman in a trashcan, stabbed holes in the trashcan with a 12-inch blade, then kicked the trashcan into Gotham Bay. Hamill’s Joker kidnapped the mayor’s son not with brute force, but with charisma and charm, only to reveal his murderous intentions when Batman showed up to rescue the boy. Hamill’s Joker has the ability to convincingly and effortlessly shift from harmless prankster to horrible psychopath and back again…all in a few moments. He may spend much of his on-screen time skipping and singing his own theme song, but he does so while leading his enemies into death traps.

But there was something missing from Hamill’s Joker: true horror. While Batman: The Animated Series consistently pushed the boundaries of what was acceptable in a children’s cartoon, Hamill’s Joker was nonetheless relegated to PG-13 status.

Batman: Arkham Asylum

Reprising his role in Batman: Arkham Asylum, Hamill’s Joker finally got the opportunity to dive into Alan Moore territory. Arkham Asylum‘s Joker kills in cold blood. He sells out his henchmen, openly rooting for Batman to crush them. He tosses off vulgarities. He frees the whole of Arkham Asylum’s inmate population from their cages for no purpose other than to effect disaster on the world.

What is truly impressive, though, is how Hamill’s performance in Arkham Asylum doesn’t at all deviate from his performance in TAS. His voice inflections, his sudden shifts from whimsy to anger…they are exactly the same. Hamill’s Joker is just as comfortable pandering to censors and 10 year-old kids as it is indulging comic book geeks’ darkest fantasies. Hearing Hamill’s voicework in the context of an R-rated Arkham Asylum game reveals how R-rated his performance in TAS truly was. Arkham Asylum doesn’t really free Hamill from his kid-friendly shackles so much as it frees our understanding of his Joker from our minds’ kid-friendly shackles. And that’s scary. Imagine as a kid you saw Anthony Hopkins play Hannibal Lecter on Sesame Street and offer Big Bird some KFC. As a kid, you probably wouldn’t really get it. As an adult, you’d watch Silence of the Lambs and think, “Wow, that episode of Sesame Street was fucked up.”

To be sure, Hamill’s performance in Arkham Asylum isn’t a tour de force of acting; it’s simply another addition to his breadth of experience playing the Joker. Arkham Asylum takes Hamill’s interpretation of the Joker and places it an a different context, and in doing so emphasizes the depth and nuance of his work on Batman: The Animated Series. I used to watch TAS and think, “Wow…I can’t believe that’s Luke Skywalker playing the Joker.” After playing Arkham Asylum, I watch Star Wars and think, “Wow…I can’t believe that’s the Joker playing Luke Skywalker.”  Because Hamill’s interpretation of the Joker is versatile enough to fit comfortably in any version of the Joker yet written.  Hamill’s Joker supersedes the art design that accompanies his voicework.  Hamil’s Joker fits appropriately into any context.  Hamill’s Joker is never limited by any creative director’s vision, but rather allows any creative director’s vision to inform his performance while simultaneously informing the creative director’s vision.  Hamill’s Joker pays homage to nearly every version of the Joker while making its own unique contribution to the Joker canon.

To the Actors

Heath Ledger, you delivered a performance that will serve as a benchmark not only for all future Joker performances, but for all future comic book villain performances. Hell, you delivered a performance that will always be mentioned among the great performances in cinema.

But Mark Hamill, you are the voice in my head every time I read a line in a comic book delivered by the Joker. You transcend comparisons.  You embody the spirit of the character.  You. Are. The Joker.