At the Grand Theatre, the flickering light held the audience captive. Martin's storytelling prowess kept them engrossed, with no trace of impatience or restlessness.
In the evening, Arthur bathed his mobility-impaired mother, peppering their talk with jokes to ease her worries about money or him. He spoke of one day performing in grand clubs, a successful comedian. This tender mother-son moment warmed hearts.
Drawn to Sophie, Arthur, with time before work, secretly followed her, learning she worked at a bank. Then, he visited another comedian's show, taking notes. Clearly, Arthur was diligent, not poor from laziness but trapped by a rotten environment that stifled joy and success. How could he make others laugh in such a world?
"People say comedy's core is tragedy, but it's not built on it," James Blen wrote in his notebook.
That evening, Sophie (Cameron Diaz) knocked on Arthur's door, asking if he'd been following her. The audience saw she wasn't upset—her smile invited him to be bolder. "Go for it!" some female viewers urged. But Arthur, flustered, mumbled and shut the door, closing off his sliver of romantic hope. The audience's frustration grew, their irritation at his timidity mounting.
The next day, Arthur, psyching himself up, went to work with determination. Performing at a children's hospital, he accidentally dropped the gun Randall gave him. Panicked, he stuffed it away, claiming it was a prop. Skeptical parents said little, and he thought he'd dodged trouble.
Then his boss called, furious, firing him. Randall, the chubby coworker, had ratted him out, claiming Arthur bought the gun from him despite his objections. The audience boiled with rage—at Randall, the boss, and Arthur's passivity. You're bullied this badly and still don't fight back?
Kevin Thomas, emotional, wrote: "No matter how you console yourself or face life optimistically, the world's unfair blows can't be undone." He realized he was rooting for Arthur.
On the subway home, three drunk, suited Wayne Enterprises employees harassed a woman. Arthur, angry but scarred from a past beating for intervening, stayed put. A flashback showed him bloodied on a subway floor after trying to stop similar thugs, only for the woman to flee at the next stop.
This time, he planned to stay out of it, but fate played a cruel joke. His uncontrollable laughter erupted, drawing the men's ire. Mistaking it for mockery, they attacked him. In the chaos, unable to reach his card, Arthur pulled the gun and shot two dead. The third fled as the subway stopped, but Arthur, in a frenzied state, chased and killed him on the stairs.
Theaters erupted with cheers. "Nice, take out those scumbags!"
"That's it, Arthur!"
"Good job—this is what you should do!"
Martin timed the release perfectly. Any later, and the audience's frustration might have turned to disdain; any sooner, and the impact would've been weaker.
Calming down, Arthur fled to a public bathroom. Staring into the mirror, the audience sensed a shift. His once-lonely, submissive eyes now glinted with cold excitement. A strange feeling emerged—as if another soul had awakened in him. Arthur began to dance, as if killing "trash" was exhilarating. After, he faced the mirror, pulling his lips into a smile—natural, not forced, as if he'd found his true self.
Jack Nicholson's scalp tingled. Arthur's mirrored gaze felt like another person entirely. What kind of talent pulls off this split-personality vibe?
"You see that?" he asked Leonardo DiCaprio beside him.
"See what?" Leonardo replied, confused.
"Never mind," Nicholson muttered, deciding to be "friendlier" to Martin. He didn't want to rouse the darker persona he sensed.
Back at his building, emboldened, Arthur went straight to Sophie's apartment, knocked, and kissed her forcefully. Whistles and cheers filled theaters—Arthur's spring seemed to have arrived. Having done what most wouldn't, his courage surged.
The next day, collecting his things at work, Arthur punched the time clock to pieces—a final act of defiance. The audience laughed and clapped as he cracked jokes, his newfound confidence shining.
But was that all? No. Martin wasn't done toying with their emotions.
In the front row, Martin's lips curled into a Joker-like smirk, unseen by all.