I’m just speculating here, but the decision to make Leto a Ledger knockoff could have easily been Ayer’s, which would explain why he grows to be as derivative, dull, and flavorless as the rest of the disastrous film. The director demanded that too many liberties be taken with the Joker’s aesthetic for me to believe that anybody else could’ve been responsible. That, and the whole “gangster Joker” thing really only worked with Ledger behind the makeup and machinations; Leto could’ve turned in an incredible performance if he and Ayer had made his portrayal a bit more inspired. Instead, the two deliver a one-dimensional thug who basks in the garish glow of the film’s headache-inducing lighting and enjoys his own mediocrity just a bit too much. He’s exactly what I’ve been secretly afraid of for months now, and not in a good way.
If you look back at the actors who’ve portrayed the Joker in films and times past, you’ll see that each of them brought something unique to the role. Sure, they pulled pieces of the character from the comic book pages he calls home, but they infused their respective takes with an originality, an individuality that set them apart from every performance that came before and after theirs.
Cesar Romero (who hilariously “hid” his prominent mustache under his Joker paint) offered up chaff and chuckles, while Jack Nicholson and Heath Ledger (the two best live-action Jokers) opted for darker, more nuanced performances. Mark Hamill, the voice of the Joker in Batman: The Animated Series, brought a sort of animated menace to the character and cemented himself as one of the most competent actors to ever lend his voice to a Batman villain. Leto, on the other hand, gives us….just about nothing.
To be fair, the filmmakers cut the Joker from a sizable chunk of the movie, so one could make the argument that Leto simply drew the shortest straw and didn’t get a chance to truly show off his chops. However, that still won’t convince the people (myself clearly included) who find his failings to be inherent and not earned.
From the moment he dons his bling and sets about turning the city upside down in his search for Harley Quinn, it’s made clear that what he’s shooting for and how he’s shooting for it just doesn’t work. He flip-flops between cartoonish camp and uncompromising darkness, never once realizing that it’s impossible to straddle such a stark line and be taken seriously. It’s bad enough that we don’t know which Joker he is, but when he doesn’t even know, it becomes a serious problem that probably won’t be and can’t be fixed anytime soon.
