In 2013, thanks to a very good yet misleading trailer, Matt and I went to see "Man of Steel." As we left the theatre, I turned to him and said, "That's it. No more superhero movies for me." Besides the fact that it absolutely SUCKED, I realized something else. They're mostly all the same. And I was bored. Then a few months ago, I watched the trailer for "Joker." I was intrigued. It looked dark and disturbing. It touted itself as yet another in the new genre of alternate universe. And most importantly, it starred Joaquin Phoenix. Check. Check. Check. Fine, I'll go... We just got home. One word: Masterpiece. Set in a very Scorcese-ish 1980's Gotham, Joker introduces us to Arthur Fleck: a pathetic, forgettable little man doing odd jobs, in clown garb. He is the awkward guy everyone talks about at work. He's the guy just creepy enough that you might cross the street if you saw him in your path or switch seats on the bus if he was