The Britney Spears ad was pure, jaw-dropping allure. Her flawless figure was showcased to perfection, especially as she danced in tight jeans and a fitted T-shirt, commanding every male viewer's attention—unless they weren't into women. As the dance ended, a slogan flashed: "Move with youthful energy—feel it, wear Miranda!"
Yes, the ad was for Miranda, the brand by Miranda Kerr, now a top choice for American teens' fashion.
"Britney's unreal. She's right up there with Cindy Crawford's 1992 Super Bowl Pepsi ad," Daniel Mann said.
"No way, Cindy's hotter—especially when she chugs that Pepsi. I nearly lost it," Adam Davis shot back.
"Bullshit. Britney's spicier, with that youthful vibe. Look at her waist!" Daniel argued.
"Your girl? Since when is Cindy yours? Britney's got the edge—pure fire," Adam countered.
"Alright, enough! Next ad's starting," someone nearby interrupted.
The Super Bowl crowd buzzed over Britney's ad, sparking debates.
Adam and Daniel didn't argue over Britney vs. Cindy. Both in their twenties, they'd come of age during Britney's pop-dance peak and agreed she was the ultimate heartthrob. But the next ad stole their focus.
A black screen gave way to a gleaming, metallic DC logo, followed by Warner Bros. and Meyers Entertainment logos. Daniel leapt up. "It's The Joker! The trailer's here! Holy shit, finally!"
Adam rolled his eyes at his roommate's frenzy, muttering inwardly, Just a villain. What's the big deal?
Then the screen lit up.
In a dim room, a gaunt man sat before a mirror, applying makeup under a harsh orange light. Far from warm, it cast the dark green backdrop in an eerie chill. The camera zoomed in on Arthur's reflection. Slowly, he inserted his fingers into the corners of his mouth, pulling them into a forced smile, his face muscles locked in a haunting grin. It was a smile laced with loneliness and sorrow.
A voiceover intoned: "I used to think my life was a tragedy. Now I realize it's a comedy."
The scene shifted. Arthur shuffled through the city—streets, alleys, high pedestrian bridges—always shown from behind. Whether amid bustling crowds or under cold streetlights, he seemed unable to belong, achingly alone.
The voiceover continued: "She [Arthur's mother] said I had a mission: to bring laughter to the world."
Images flashed: Arthur in clown makeup, spinning an ad sign on the street, only to have it stolen by punks who mocked him; making a child laugh on a bus, scolded by the kid's mother to stay away; helping a girl harassed by thugs on the subway, only to be beaten down as she fled.
The scenes converged into piercing laughter—Arthur cackling amid a street brawl, after being berated on the bus, and spitting blood on the subway while laughing maniacally as the girl ran. The raw, unhinged laughter carried a nameless force, stirring grief, oppression, and a burning sense of injustice for Arthur.
The crowd fell silent. Daniel stopped shouting. Adam held his tongue. Everyone felt the crushing weight of being misunderstood—the world's saddest form of loneliness.
The screen shifted again. Arthur sat before the mirror, forcing another smile, tears welling in his eyes. The voiceover returned, sharp and accusing: "Freak."
"Idiot."
"Moron."
"What's so funny?"
"Stay away from my kid."
"Get that coward outta here."
A tear fell from Arthur's right eye, smearing black eyeliner into a dark streak—a tear as lonely as his soul.
Then the tone shifted, defiant: "Maybe it's time for a change."
A flash: Arthur in a red suit, face painted white, firing a gun.
Bang!
A moment later, he stood atop a car, surrounded by a mob in clown makeup or masks, dressed in vibrant red and yellow, cheering and roaring for him. Arthur raised his head, arms spread, like a god basking in worship.
The 30-second trailer ended abruptly, the screen blackening before white text appeared: Martin Meyers' masterpiece! June 2—see you there!
"Holy shit, those few frames hit hard," someone gasped.
"Same. I get the Joker now. That city, those people—I'd want to burn it all down too," another said.
"June 2? That's forever away! I can't wait!" a third groaned.
The Super Bowl crowd buzzed with excitement.
"Adam, I'm seeing this movie. Goddamn, I have to," Daniel said, practically vibrating.
Adam stayed quiet, wrestling with himself. Why did Arthur's gunfire and the crowd's adoration at the trailer's end feel so… thrilling?