Being on tour means that I can indulge in grown-up cinema experiences, but only within the band of films that my wife would not like to see, too. We have a nice ongoing thing where we agree to watch films together, never have the time or childcare to do it, and so never watch the films. It’s a lovely tradition.

So, on tour, I went to see Joker. Once I had got past my initial rage at having to pay a lot of money to be advertised to for over half an hour (much of which was telling me how great the cinema that I’d already bought a ticket to be in was), I settled down to watch Joaquin Phoenix deliver one of those award-winning performances that has everybody raving about how it’s going to win Oscars, before the inevitable backlash, part of which has suggested that this film isn’t just dark, it’s dangerous.

I have long been the sort of person to sneer at those who are offended or shocked by cinema, music, comedy, or any kind of art. I find it difficult to accept the arguments that things should be censored if they are too offensive, and I have had long impassioned discussions with friends about the recent furore over comedians “not being allowed to say anything any more”. The truth is, you can say what you want, as you always could; it’s just that social media will convey offence to you instantly. But who cares?

There are indeed shocking moments in Joker, but my issue is not with that. My issue is with how bleak and depressing it is. There are no real lessons to be learned; there is no insight to take away; and no real explanation as to which Batman iteration this Joker is supposed to be part of (I would personally love it to be George Clooney-era Batman.) My friends and I left the cinema feeling utterly drained and in need of a lie down. And while we agreed that it was a masterful piece of work, none of us could figure out if we’d actually enjoyed it.

I understand the need for challenging art, and a dark film can make you think. I remember feeling emotionally drained as a teenager after watching Schindler’s List, but also glad that I had been able to engage with the second world war in a way that wasn’t a history lesson I wasn’t paying attention to.

The point I am dancing around is, I don’t know if I want to watch any more films that leave me absolutely drained, without there being some greater reward for having gone through the ordeal. Yes, Joker does make a point about social inequality, but it’s not really what the film is about.

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Much as I ridicule films that tie things up in a neat package, it might be that I prefer them. The last film I saw at the cinema was The Lion King, which, despite spending half an hour explaining to my family how soulless these remakes are and how weird the real animals look singing, I left feeling elated enough to lift our five-year-old up like Simba, before trying the same move with my wife and hurting her shoulder. Great times.

So that’s it. In future, I will be vetting movies on the grounds that they are either uplifting or that they teach you something. If not, I am going to avoid the final few minutes and imagine a happy ending for myself, a bit like Phoebe from Friends. I’m also going to work up to a successful Simba lift on my wife.