The People’s Joker opens with a disclaimer: “This film is a parody and is at the present time completely unauthorized by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, or anyone claiming ownership of the trademarks therein…”

The fact that the film, which was directed, cut and performed by Vera Drew from a script by Drew and Bri LeRose, requires the statement up front isn’t surprising. This transgender Joker origin story is steeped in Batman and DC references, but it is unabashedly ruthless in who and what it mocks, resolutely taking aim at certain canonical characters and plotlines while also reverently paying homage to many iterations of Batsy.

Credit creator Drew, who repurposes her own trans experience to tell the coming of age/coming out story of young Joker (Griffin Kramer). Growing up in Smallville with her mother (Lynn Downey) and absent, never seen father, Joker feels out of place in her male body. (In classic trans narrative fashion, Joker’s deadname is bleeped except for a few meaningful times when it is spoken aloud for maximum emotional impact).

Telling her mother about her concerns earns young Joker a trip to Arkham Asylum to meet with Doctor Crane (Christian Calloway), a name that, like so many others, will be familiar to DC fans. The Scarecrow prescribes Smylez, an aerosol drug that prompts a grotesque smile on users’ faces but does little to actually improve their mood. When prompted by her mother, young Joker horrifically acquiesces and lies that she’s happy. The reality is that young Joker already identifies more with Nicole Kidman than with Val Kilmer in “Legends of the Caped Crusader and the City of Cyber Mutants,” this film’s bemusing reinterpretation of Batman Forever.

This is a common occurrence throughout the film, which is incredibly Batman media-literate. Drew and LeRose know their lore, particularly its queer elements (the inclusion of Catwoman’s neon “Hello There” sign from Batman Returns is proof positive of that). And while the film will undoubtedly prove inflammatory to fanboys, the most controversial elements of The People’s Joker (Batman as a gay groomer) are observations that have been joked about for decades.

When Joker reaches adulthood (now played by Drew), she heads to Gotham to try her hand at comedy. Herein lies the other source of the film’s comedy/mockery: Joker auditions for UCB, the in-universe equivalent of SNL, complete with animated Lorne Michaels (voiced by Sarah Sherman). She’s quickly ushered through an automated electronic audition process that ranks candidates based on the malleability of their brains, the damage of their liver and their male genitalia. Joker passes because technically she meets all three criteria, but she quickly learns that she cannot adhere to the improv stylings of the antiquated comedy institution (the only legal outlet for sketch comedy since Batman – voiced by Phil Braun – criminalized all of the others).

After bombing UCB’s “Yes and…” improv challenge set by Ra’s Al Ghul (David Liebe Hart), Joker and new friend Penguin (Nathan Faustian) open an alternative club, the Red Hood Playhouse in Gotham’s Amusement Park district. They recruit a talentless crop of stand-up comedians in The Riddler (Trevor Drinkwater), Ivy (voiced by Ruin Carroll) and Mr. J (Kane Distler), a trans Jason Todd modeled on Jared Leto’s Joker from Suicide Squad, whose evil ex is Batsy and who proceeds to abuse and gaslight our Joker.

It’s likely clear by now that The People’s Joker isn’t a traditional film. It’s mixed-media – with animated sequences and characters (such as Tim Heidecker’s Perry White who regularly pontificates on the Daily Planet news), rotoscope, and even Robot Chicken-style doll sequences. The vast majority of the film was shot on green screen, lending the film a RuPaul’s Drag Race film challenge vibe that speaks to the DIY nature of the production, which was outsourced to a hundred independent artists during the pandemic (BTW: RuPaul himself is the target of a deliciously bitchy fracking comment and It.Is.Cutting). The low-fi visual aesthetics take a moment to get used to, but eventually, it complements the audacious, “no holds barred” filmmaking style, particularly as the film queers up not just the Joker, but the entire Batman universe.

The result is a frequently amusing, sometimes outright hilarious queer coming-of-age tale that draws inspiration from a plethora of Batman texts. This includes tweaked musical samples of Prince’s music and a recreation of Joker’s fate from Tim Burton’s 1989 film, nods to Harley Quinn’s abuse by Mr. J in both Suicide Squad as well as her own standalone film, and re-enactments of scenes from Returns, Forever and even Todd Phillips’ Joker. Hell, the film is dedicated to Drew’s mom and Joel Schumacher, so it’s clearly wearing its camp ambitions on its sleeve.

The reality is that Vera Drew has crafted a film that will piss off a lot of Batman and DCU fans. That’s fine: The People’s Joker is an unabashed love letter to Batman properties, to camp, stand-up comedians, and – most importantly – the trans community. It is daring and ambitious and unapologetic. Plus: it’s got a killer soundtrack of parody songs. What more can you ask for?