The People’s Joker was made through sheer artistic willpower: a commitment to both telling the deeply personal story of director, co-writer, and star, Vera Drew, and a steadfast dedication to “yes and”-ing the vast community of eclectic artists that brought the film to fruition.
The film follows Joker the Harlequin (Vera Drew) as she transitions, begins her first real relationship, and dives into an underground comedy scene in a satirized Gotham City—a rugged superhero landscape where art is so corporatized it’s literally illegal to do comedy outside of the most mainstream, thereby censored, forums.
The People’s Joker may have an extremely personal narrative, but the look of the film is a community-created one; an effort on the part of a collection of artists with styles ranging from graphics reminiscent of old school video games to Scooby-Doo style cartooning.
Loud, honest, and something entirely and unapologetically its own, The People’s Joker is deeply exciting to those fatiguing under the weight of endless corporate cinema goo — something the film itself explores head-on in its take downs of mainstream comedy and meaningless superhero drivel at large. Vera Drew sat down with me to discuss her film and its inspirations.
VP: What was it like balancing your personal story and intentions alongside other smaller, but highly specific artistic visions to make The People’s Joker what it was?
VD: The real guts of the project was figuring that [balance] out. The movie is so personal and incredibly autobiographical, and was written in this way that was almost like a one woman show – Hedwig and the Angry Inch was a really big inspiration.
I announced that my friend [co-writer Bri LeRose] and I were making this really gay Batman and Joker parody, and if anybody wanted to help they could come on board. I woke up the next morning with this army of people that wanted to help us make it. What a fucking gift for my first film to have this big diverse group of aesthetics to pull from. I don’t know, I’m not Stanley Kubrick—I had a vision in my head for what this movie would look like, but it was a blurry vision. I really wanted to make something that felt and looked eclectic.
I also knew my dumb face was going to be on screen for the entire movie, and that there were conversations in there that I had literally had. So, I was never really worried about losing my voice or the “me” in it. To me, making art and collaborating with people – that’s where it’s at. I wanted every artist to feel like they were also making this movie for themselves.
VP: There’s this amazing collection of political and cultural themes in The People’s Joker, from media conglomerates, to Joker the Harlequin’s personal transition, to the politics of mainstream and alt comedy scenes. Was there a key launching point or creative seed that this collection of ideas stemmed from?
VD: The real seed of all of this came from when I worked in television for a decade. I moved to LA right when a lot of these media conglomerates were starting to put a lot of money into alternative comedy. My first job was on season one of The Eric Andre Show, and then my second job was on season one of Nathan for You.
My earliest memories are of wanting to make a film. I was a very imaginative kid, and I knew I was different pretty much immediately. I wanted to make a movie the whole first ten years I was in LA, but I just didn’t know what I wanted to say – I didn’t have anything that would come to the surface.
By the time 2019 hit, I was a year into my transition, and I was getting a little burnt out on helping other people tell their stories. It felt like it was time for me to tell mine. It also really felt like it was time for me to start processing why I had gotten into comedy in the first place. Comedy for me, both in terms of what I got to perform and even in the editing work I did, was this space where I could explore identity and queerness and alternative ideas in this very direct way and this very fearless way. But a lot of the time it was like there was a detachment in it, and an overwhelming sense of irony. A lot of that was catching up with me. A year into my transition, I had another weird identity crisis where I was like, “Who the fuck am I? I’m this weird irony-poisoned freak.”
I think that was the main kernel of [The People’s Joker]. I was just trying to explore those themes of why alternative comedy was a space for somebody like me when there was no woman like me in that world. I think that was kind of what I wanted to talk about, that alienation and how formative it was to me, and how destructive at times, too.
VP: When did your own sense of humor and such a distinct critique of mainstream comedy become a central part of the text for you?
VD: I know that I’m capable of being funny and making stuff that’s funny, but I don’t think I’m ever really starting from there. At the start of the pandemic, there were a lot of articles going around about [The Joker director] Todd Phillips talking about how men were afraid to do comedy now because people have pronouns, or whatever. He’s one of the many cis men saying, basically, it’s too hard to be a comedian now because freedom of speech is infringed. I think it’s such a lame argument.
When we really started seriously talking about [The People’s Joker] as a film, we were thinking it could be funny to really lean into all of the things these annoying thought leaders are saying. [The People’s Joker] is in a world where comedy is literally illegal, but in a way that’s more realistic.
It was really important to me that we talk about Saturday Night Live in the way we talk about it, because I always considered SNL to be a kind of an arm of our military more than anything. They determine our elections and make a lot of political choices with who they book now, especially when they put Dave Chapelle or Shane Gillis on there. They really are as much of an arm of our American propaganda as Marvel movies are.
I loved it as a kid and in my early twenties. If Lorne Micheals had come to any of my shitty open mic nights or horrible sketch comedy nights and plucked me out of obscurity, I would’ve happily taken his minimum wage TV job in a heartbeat. And I would still love to host the show. I mean, Lorne, if you’re reading this, please put me in there, coach.
I think that’s really where the humor of The People’s Joker comes in, the duality of all those things.
VP: I loved your cameo casting choices. I’m a huge fan of some of the comedians and artists you included, especially Maria Bamford and Mr. Boop. How do you feel about the ways we can platform and include more genuinely alternative comedic voices?
VD: I think the throughline I really noticed with the people we got to cameo in the movie is that they are all comedians that started in alternative spaces. I wanted to pack the movie with people with this kind of good juju. Bob [Odenkirk] and Maria Bamford and Tim [Heidecker] are all people I’ve always really looked up to. I haven’t necessarily modeled my career after them, but I’ve really looked to them as this guiding light; I need to stick to my guns, tell the story I want to tell even if my parents and loved ones think it’s weird and misguided and is going to put me in hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt.
