Lady Gaga in Joker: Folie A Deux.

Warner Bros. Studios

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Warner Bros. Studios

Lady Gaga in Joker: Folie A Deux.

Warner Bros. Studios

The new film Joker: Folie à Deux is the sequel to 2019’s Joker, which won Joaquin Phoenix an Oscar. This new film is a courtroom drama and a romance tossed into a musical blender set to liquefy, as the Joker goes on trial for the murders he committed in the last film and falls in love with a groupie played by Lady Gaga.

Some people might wonder: Is true love at first sight just a romantic fantasy? Or does it ever actually happen? These weren’t thoughts that had yet occurred to me when I was 13 years old. I was old enough to have started noticing girls, but the notion of true love, let alone at first sight, was still abstract. That was soon going to change.

My main love back then was music. I was playing keyboards in bands with schoolmates and had dreams of becoming a rock star. I was into music by bands like Emerson, Lake & Palmer and Yes, but my older sister and I were also big fans of Elton John. When we heard he was going to perform in town, we begged our mother to take us. Ever the trouper, she agreed to load up the car with me, my sister and a bunch of my sister’s teenage friends.

One of these friends invited her younger sister Susan to come along. Being the two youngest in the car, Susan and I were relegated to the “way back” of our Ford Country Squire station wagon.

Sitting across from her on those tiny fold-out rear seats, I felt something I’d never felt before. She was tall and striking, with long brown hair that had straight bangs above her bright brown eyes. She laughed with a dimpled smile and was easy to talk to. I was instantly smitten and nearly forgot why we were all taking that long drive from the San Fernando Valley to Inglewood. Is this what true love feels like?

Once inside the Fabulous Forum, I made sure to pick a seat next to her. Elton was also fabulous, though my mind admittedly wandered much of the time. I’m sure I spent most of the show looking at her rather than the stage. She sang along to “Benny and the Jets” and “Crocodile Rock,” while I wondered: Is she feeling what I’m feeling? Is there a spark for her too? Or is she put off by my braces, my glasses or my height disadvantage? These questions would have to wait — Elton was her focus that night.

Back at Portola Junior High School in Tarzana, I took every opportunity to try to run into her. She was a grade below me, so that meant scouting the courtyard at lunchtime and between classes, then trying to come up with reasons to have a conversation. A safe excuse was to discuss whatever was new with Elton. I surprised her once with a new Elton John album on its first day of release. I sometimes would manage to come up with excuses to phone her, and we would have long conversations until one of us would be told by a sibling to stop hogging the line.

Through these encounters my feelings for her continued to grow. She was intelligent, witty and kind, and she shared my love of making music. How could there ever be anyone more perfect for me?

Before too long I got up the courage to profess my love to her. I went over to her house and she listened patiently as I told her how I felt and expressed my certainty that we would marry someday. Susan sat quietly and listened, and with kindness she gently explained that she did not feel the same way. She said that she hoped we could remain friends. Naturally I was crushed but somehow still imagined this was merely a temporary setback.

We did keep in touch over the next few years, albeit with less frequency. I continued to play in various bands, and she became the star of her high school choir. We’d share our experiences on long phone calls. By the time I turned 16, my family had moved south to Westchester near Los Angeles International Airport, and hers had moved further north to Westlake Village. The extra distance didn’t completely diminish my hope, but it certainly made the odds of us crossing paths much more remote. But as luck would have it, that summer Susan and her sister dropped by for a visit one day when they happened to be in the area.

As she got out of the car, I instantly had the same feeling I experienced three years earlier. Could things be different for her this time? I now had the advantage of my braces being off. Contact lenses had replaced my glasses — plus the height advantage was now mine. Lo and behold, she casually suggested that maybe we could go out sometime. I made sure that “sometime” would be as soon as possible.

Our first real date was ice skating at Topanga Plaza, followed by dinner at Carl’s Jr. She was still easy to talk to, and still the love of my life. She also revealed a mischievous side. She had said before the date that she didn’t know how to skate very well, but then proceeded with a grin to skate circles around me with the grace of an Olympian. It was the first of many examples that Susan was never someone to be underestimated.

We ended that evening with our first kiss, something I had been imagining since that first concert. It was worth the wait, and we have been inseparable ever since.

Sunday marks 50 years since that fateful Elton John concert on Oct. 6, 1974. In the decades since, Susan and I have played in bands together, started companies together and traveled the world together. We’ve shared over 42 years of marriage, raised two wonderful children and have been blessed with a grandchild. And of course, we have attended countless more Elton John shows. Through it all, I feel truly blessed to have had 50 years of that “love at first sight” feeling each and every time I see her.

The author is a semiretired strategic adviser for audio and musical instruments companies, having previously been a studio musician and product designer. He and Susan, both Los Angeles natives, played in bands together for many years and co-founded the guitar products company Line 6. They now reside in Ventura County and still play music together at home.

L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.

For most of its history, Hollywood made its money by putting stars the public liked to watch in stories that wouldn’t be worth watching without them. These days, such star-driven films are falling out of fashion — except on our streamers.

That’s where you’ll find Wolfs, an AppleTV+ vehicle that features George Clooney and Brad Pitt skating through a crime plot in glamorously grizzled mode. They play two professional “fixers” — they’ll do anything to clean up a client’s mess — who collide while working the same job. Written and directed by Jon Watts (who did a popular Spider-Man reboot), Wolfs matters more for its stars than for the characters they play.

The action begins when a New York politico played by Amy Ryan has a casual fling at a posh hotel that goes terribly wrong. She calls Clooney, a seasoned pro who knows how to make trouble disappear. He’s doing just that when they’re interrupted. Enter Pitt who, as it turns out, is working for the hotel, which also wants the problem to go away. Because Clooney and Pitt (their characters don’t use names) always work alone, both bristle at each other’s presence.

The two bicker and gibe and question each other’s expertise — Pitt keeps hinting that Clooney’s an old man. And naturally, they discover that their task is more challenging than it looked.

All too soon they’re dealing with four bricks of stolen drugs, a goofy college kid and a group of murderous gangsters. Over the course of a long night the two come to a kind of understanding — not only with one another, but about their larger role in the world.

If I’d paid to see Wolfs in a theater rather than screened it on TV — which has the lowered expectations of in-flight viewing — I’d probably have been bugged by its lack of imagination and urgency. Watts’ script gives you no singing dialogue a la Elmore Leonard or Quentin Tarantino, none of the stinging emotional force you find in comparable two-hander stories — Elaine May’s Mikey and Nicky, say, or Martin McDonagh’s In Bruges.

And yet the movie’s still enjoyable. Clooney and Pitt are such deft, charismatic actors that, even in a lazy, low-key picture like this one, you get a lot of pleasure from their barbed asides and mocking silences. It’s clear why they’ve been stars for three decades.

Thirty years ago, one would have wagered that Clooney, a smart man with a wide-ranging mind, would wind up with the weightier resume of the two. And indeed, he’s been in lots of terrific movies, like Out of Sight, Up in the Air and his work with the Coen Brothers. Yet just as he’s drawn to the idea of Frank Sinatra’s Rat Pack — he has one of his own — he often throws himself into projects that feel like throwbacks to the 1950s or ‘60s. He’s an old-fashioned kind of star. And while a lot of his movies are fun — think Ocean’s Eleven — they rarely resonate in the culture as much as he does off the screen.

For all his prettiness and ubiquity in the tabloids, Pitt’s movies do. Maybe because he’s always been running away from his beauty — he’s never happier than when scruffed up — he’s chosen a more adventurous path. From Thelma & Louise and Se7en, to Fight Club and The Tree of Life, to 12 Years a Slave and Moneyball and Once Upon a Time in … Hollywood, he’s made movies that feel in touch with our present moment.

What Clooney and Pitt share, beyond friendship, is that both achieved stardom by doing the kind of movies that rarely get made anymore. That’s why, even though Wolfs is slight, I can see how they might find it meaningful.

After all, this is a story about two old pros who each start out thinking he’s irreplaceable — the only one who can do this special job. Then each discovers that, far from being unique, there’s somebody else who does exactly what they do. And so far from being indispensable, they’re working for soulless people who have no qualms about getting rid of them and hiring somebody new. Which is to say, Wolfs isn’t really a film about being a fixer. It’s a film about being an aging movie star.