Fight Clip Club: Fight Club

I don’t need to tell you the first rule of Fight Club, do I?

‘Self improvement is masturbation.’

Well I mean, it was only a matter of time, right? Just a matter of time before I actually covered a fight scene from the movie from which I got the name of this assignment that has become a Substack series. It’s time I quit fighting it (see what I did there)...

As a very slightly more feminine bro who came of age and also learned fight skills (both theatrical and real) in the late 1990s, I do count myself as one of these young ‘men’ who were seduced by just how fricking cool Fight Club seemed when it first came out in ‘99. In ‘99, I had just entered graduate school in poetry, at a renowned university known for its gritty Beats; I’d just gotten married to my martial arts instructor (and fellow RenFaire combatant); and was just being tucked under the wing of a couple stage combat guys who were teaching me how to teach the art myself. I was broke and frustrated and still trying to get published as well as cast, and this movie made me feel empowered, even as I practiced my martial arts in the parks and my theatrical combat in the studios, uncast and uncelebrated.

I like to feel that I did indeed see the toxic masculinity messages in this movie clearly, unlike so many gullible young men of the time who fell under Tyler Durden’s spell, but to be honest, I kind of doubt it. The smoky-eyed Marla, played by the irresistible Helena Bonham Carter, only added to my gender-fluid and pansexual confusion–I don’t think I’m being honest if I claim I rose above the hype. Not back then. 

Nowadays, of course, I can trace all those threads clearly, as with my other fave of ‘99, The Matrix. This far removed from that gaslighting bully of an ex-husband and a full rich history of violence, both staged violence and studio martial arts, along with a long litany of intensive research and writing, I’m much more aware of the problems that come up when the lessons of a charismatic anti-hero go wrong, because that anti-hero is so very sexily cool. This consciousness hasn’t spoiled it for me though, far from it–though Fight Club isn’t a movie I particularly like to rewatch in full today, I still find Brad Pitt’s ab muscle line leading down into his jeans, and Helena Bonham Carter’s Gothic pout as she exhales smoke, both devastatingly alluring. In sort of a nostalgic way. Beyond that, though:

The only reason to rewatch this movie is the fight scenes. They’re gorgeously shot, every one, slick and beautifully performed. They’re worth taking close note of and analyzing. Let’s pick one and do that, shall we? Meet me below the paywall.