Thursday, 24 September 2015

I am Jack's Desperate Search for Meaning

Another essay upload, this one from a course I sat five years ago, "Hollywood's America - American history through the lens of popular film". It was certainly an interesting paper, and every inch as valid a historical lens as any other aspect of culture through which we access our past. The idea was to look at the media that resonated with audiences ('popular' film, not necessarily 'good' film), and what that said about the prevailing attitudes of the time; how does popular entertainment colour the events we know of?

For my final essay of the paper, I decided to look at perennial favourite 'Fight Club', not only a popular film but a defining expression of the thematic focus of the novel's author, Chuck Palahniuk. Specifically, the sense of directionless in American culture that came from the unmooring of the masculine identity with the loss of overarching social narrative in the '90s.

The essay is not particularly well-written, it's a clear example that the old adage 'measure twice, cut once' should be modified for academic writing as 'Write twice, submit once'. Most of the statements or references made are only really meaningful or fleshed out sufficiently if one reads the source material footnoted for it, a massive oversight on my part. It's all in the bibliography, so any lost soul stumbling upon this essay with an abundance of time on their hands and at least a half-way decent internet connection should have little trouble ferreting it all out. So I may as well go ahead and present the actual article now:



Hollywood’s America - Research Essay - “I am Jack’s desperate search for meaning”

With vibrant cynicism, Fight Club presents the 1990s as a period defined by paranoia and alienation; the entire film exhibits an undercurrent of uncertainty and ambiguity not only in the subject matter but also the portrayal, described in a review by Bob Graham of the San Francisco Chronicle as a film that “delivers a sucker punch to the audience and then pulls the rug out from under it.”[1] The narrative centers on an emotionally alienated corporate drone, disillusioned with the corrupt and superficial commercial existence painted as the American Dream, who responds to his sense of powerlessness and disconnection by using violence and counter-cultural rebellion in a bid to construct his own identity and find something genuine in his life. The narrator’s sense of powerlessness and alienation is portrayed as a symptom of consumer culture and the corporate world, and the social emasculation of the working men that comprise the Fight Club branches taps into a working-class resentment of globalization. The central themes of the film, namely dissatisfaction with the commercialized American Dream and corporate culture, and an uneasy sense of directionless and surreal or nearly illusory ambiguity, are echoed in other popular films of the time; Office Space and American Beauty offer critiques of corporate culture and the increasingly plastic American Dream, The Matrix and The Big Lebowski exhibit complex worlds where the line between reality and fantasy blur, and Three Kings explores directionless ambiguity in regards to military geopolitics in a world where America is the sole remaining Superpower.[2]

We’re the middle children of history, man, no purpose or place. We have no Great War, no Great Depression. Our great war is a spiritual war, our great depression is our lives.” The fundamental defining element of the 90s that sets the context for the film Fight Club is the lack of a framing narrative for the era; the Berlin Wall fell in 1989 and Communism collapsed in the years immediately following, and the conflict of global scope that had dominated international politics and economics disappeared abruptly, in the wake of the collapse of Communism where America was left without an opponent or a mission, the socio-political landscape was rendered uncharted territory.[3] Without the Cold War binary to define it, the central presence of the State waned somewhat and gave way to corporatization and globalization, accelerated by the Clinton Administration’s pursuit of a Free Trade agenda and its post-healthcare reform capitulation to the Republican mantra of ‘small government’.[4] Without a defining global conflict and the central importance of the state such conflict entails, with multinational corporations influencing or driving domestic and international affairs, and particularly the increasingly mobile international population facilitated by ‘global network capitalism’, the myth of collective ‘national identity’ that had always been important for male self-identification since its inception in the French Revolution, began to falter and fade.[5] Prior to the end of the Cold War, socialism and nationalism provided citizens with collective identities; the ‘90s was a decade situated between defining wars and in the absence of those conflicts that necessitated state endorsement of robust national identities, cultural pluralism filled the void.[6] For the urban middle-class white male, this replacing of a strong binary identity contrasted with the ‘other’ (be it American/Foreign, Capitalist/Communist, or the more recent Terrorist/Free Citizen espoused by G. W. Bush’s ‘You’re with us or you’re with the Terrorists’ political rhetoric) with a state of cultural pluralism left him vulnerable and anxious; the strong presence of the nation-state in the country’s conscience as a source of identity was suddenly gone, much like the absentee father figure that serves as one of the central motifs of Fight Club, and lacking the strong ethnic background or common victim-experience of more marginalized groups, the formerly mainstream male identity was left with a vacuous, secular consumer-culture to identify with.[7]

Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs that we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need… We’ve all been raised on television to believe one day we’d all be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars, but we won’t, and we’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.” The death of Communism ushered in an era of capitalist expansion throughout the world, where people, production and wealth crossed borders with blinding speed, and money steered the project of globalization.[8] The decade of Globalization was one where lifestyle advertising formed identities to an unprecedented degree, where consumerism was so pervasive that it comprised our identities, environment, and public discourse entirely; the omnipotence and omnipresence of Corporate America is signposted by Fight Club’s Narrator’s weary, deadpan assertion that “when deep space exploration ramps up, it’ll be the corporations that name everything: The IBM stellar-sphere, the Microsoft galaxy, the planet Starbucks.”[9] Globalization and the strengthening hold of corporate entities on national and global culture in the ‘90s had enormous socio-economic repercussions, not only increasing economic disparity both within America and globally, but changing the nature of the American working class as production work was moved to foreign countries and America entered a service economy that was both less secure and more emasculating for the working class American male.[10] Tyler Durden’s “entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables, slaves in white collars” form the angry mass of disempowered and emasculated men who purge their frustration with their empty vocational identities by embracing violence and counter-cultural rebellion. Just as Tyler’s Fight Club graduates to the subversive Project Mayhem, attacking the corporate commercial culture the West had become with a combination of anarchic vandalism and culture-jamming (such as blowing out windows in the shape of a smiley face in the side of an office building or replacing air safety instruction booklets with ones depicting terrified passengers chaotically scrambling to save themselves and ignore or hinder those around them), so too did Globalization’s critics and opponents, as notably explored in Naomi Klein’s ‘No Logo’.[11] The most emblematic episode displaying the pervasiveness of consumerism and the protagonists’ rejection of it shows Tyler and the Narrator enthusiastically beating a new Volkswagen Beetle, the former symbol of hippie counter-culture revamped and sold back to the ageing consumerist Baby-Boomer generation, appropriating an anti-consumer culture for commercial gain. The corporate culture is exposed as corrupt in the film through the vehicle of the Narrator’s job as a recall coordinator, someone who assesses whether it will be more expensive to initiate a recall order on unsafe car models or to pay out compensation to the victims, and toward the end of the ‘90s the rampant corruption and self-interest of corporations and their executive officers became more widely known, taking advantage of deregulation to exploit financial systems without producing much tangible good for society.[12] The advertising-dominating public discourse presented the American Dream in commercial and consumerist terms, and the uneven nature of the booming economy and increased economic stratification of society created resentment towards the Horatio Alger style ‘American Dream’ of self-made men.

With insomnia, nothing’s real. Everything’s far away. Everything’s a copy of a copy of a copy.” At the most fundamental level, Fight Club is a story of uncertainty, unease, and paranoid fear. The fact that the focal protagonist is a deliberately unnamed narrator, the story largely taking place in an unidentified and generic city, the structure  of the film as a flashback outside of strict chronological sequence occurring as a sort of conversational ‘stream of consciousness’, and Fincher’s direction frequently drawing attention to the fact that this is a film through internal referencing such as the conspicuous ‘cigarette burn’ mark that indicates a film-reel changeover at the point where the narrator specifically states the plot twist has been revealed, all draw attention to the post-modern nature of this production, the unashamed unreality it exists in. The fact that the Narrator is essentially his own enemy, who builds his own invisible guerilla army that he is as powerless against as the corporate system he fled, mirrors the fear of the insidious other undermining contemporary society, the enemy within.[13] The system of false needs created by advertising, the loss of hegemonic national authority in forming America’s cultural identity, the growing distrust of corporate entities and the project of globalization, and most particularly the post-modern nature of modern socio-political discourse as identified by Jean Baudrillard’s essay collection The Gulf War Did Not Take Place, left American life with a worrying sense of uncertainty.[14] Hard to pinpoint with specific events, the ‘spirit’ or ‘mood’ of an era is more easily signaled by popular media, and in this case it would be ‘blank fiction’, defined by “decadence, violence, and emotional dissociation steeped in mass-cultural references”, responding to the instability of identification, meaning and cultural positionality, subject to the control of “dispersed, impersonal networks of power” that reigned in the absence of the strong, proactive Fatherland.[15]

You are not your bank account. You are not the clothes you wear. You are not the contents of your wallet. You are not your bowel cancer. You are not your grande latte. You are not the car you drive. You are not your fucking khakis.” In the absence of a defining Fatherland/father figure, in the lack of an ethnic or marginal identity, in the profound absence of solid meaning in the shallow secular consumer society of Globalized capitalism, and disadvantaged and disempowered by the increasingly unequal society it was creating, the frustrated white male was faced with a crisis of identity. The Narrator, alienated and disillusioned in his personal and professional life, undergoes a process of self-destruction in order to find meaning and identity, and this process touches upon many developments of the 1990s. The overwhelming sense of emasculation in the film, from the support group Remaining Men Together, through Tyler’s reference to Lorena Bobbit dismembering her husband’s penis and throwing the severed half out the window of her car, to the attempt to castrate the Narrator after he acts against Project Mayhem, marks a theme of masculine despair and loss of identity. The Narrator attends support groups in order to experience some form of genuine emotion, despite being a faker himself; connecting with the misery of others and talking to people who really listen rather than simply wait for their turn to speak is a form of cathartic release for him, an attempt to assume an absolutely raw and authentic identity by empathy and proximity that is rendered impossible with the arrival of another whose ‘lie’ reflects his own.[16] At Tyler’s urging, the Narrator seeks to ‘hit bottom’ and destroy himself so that he can create a new identity once he is rid of the vestigial traces of the identity that had been dictated to him by his distant father and commercial culture; in a sense this crises of identity spurned by the loss of Nationalist identity loosely associated with a distant father-figure is a close parallel to the crisis of nihilism Nietzschean philosophy explores, a lack of meaning that necessitates a process of self-destruction to make way for a stronger sense of self, specifically the Ubermensch/Superman.[17] The lack of identity, and the mistrust and paranoia regarding the contemporary society, and the ‘passion for abolition’ that describes the disenfranchised modern male caught in a seemingly hollow and meaningless existence, evolves into a violent motivation to rebel, acting out violently, as did Timothy McVeigh, or retreating into a new marginal identity of a ‘survivalist’ or ‘militia’ man, or in Fight Club’s case, ‘Space Monkey’.[18] The film, released in the wake of the Columbine Shooting, was vilified by numerous critics for this glamorization of violence and paramilitary actions, but the paramilitary order that Tyler Durden creates is the enemy that the Narrator ends up rebelling against, and director David Fincher defended his work by critiquing violence and the way it is often portrayed as a way to solve problems, whereas in Fight Club the Narrator specifically states that after fighting, “nothing is solved”, it is not an answer or way to resolve problems.[19] Edward Norton, the actor who plays the unnamed narrator in the film, argues in reference to Fight Club that “art has always reflected society, art doesn’t invent violence.”[20]

Fight Club highlights the emotions of discontent and distrust of corporate capitalism and the unequal world that laissez-faire globalization was creating, that run counter to the positive impression the economic boom of the ‘90s offered. The sense of paranoia and disempowerment of mainstream heteronormative white culture experienced during the ‘90s is paralleled here in acts of violent political subversion and an attempt to destroy the financial credit system to return America to a primitive machismo honour-society. In a broader historical sense, the retreat of the Federal Government from active participation in the lives of Americans in the ‘90s, through dismantling of the welfare safety-nets and financial regulations put in place to protect against the corruption and destructive economic practices of the ‘20s and ‘30s, gave rise to a new generation of disadvantaged ‘Forgotten Men’ disguised by apparent affluence and prosperity. Tyler Durden’s Fight Club and Project Mayhem movements are an outlet and identity for these Forgotten Men to reclaim their masculinity, and in the case of the Narrator, to escape his ‘bourgeois’ identity through a flirtation with danger made possible and desirable by his comfortable affluence, in much the same way as the ‘cultural revolution’ of the ‘60s has been seen by some as the natural result of capitalism’s success.[21] Inheriting the past, the new ‘Forgotten Men’ and those rebelling against the new ‘establishment’ global corporate capitalism represented resorted to the protest, culture-jamming and terrorist tactics of ‘60s rebels such as the Weather Underground and the Situationists, mirrored in Fight Club by Project Mayhem’s assault on corporate America. Although the vast conspiracy the film narrates is a comic exaggeration, Fight Club touches a broad range of social anxieties of both left and right wing America, from left-wing anti-corporate/anti-globalization protests and anarchist movements, to right-wing reaction to the loss of hegemonic national character that a nation at war provides.

Bibliography
Film
‘Fight Club’, dir. David Fincher (Regency Enterprises, 1999)
‘Office Space’, dir. Mike Judge (20th Century Fox, 1999)
‘American Beauty’, dir. Sam Mendes (DreamWorks SKG, 1999)
‘The Matrix’, dirs. Andy Wachowski, Larry Wachowski (Village Roadshow Pictures/Silver Pictures, 1999)
‘The Big Lebowski’, dir. Joel Coen (Working Title Films/Bitter Creek Productions Inc., 1998)
‘Three Kings’, dir. David O. Russell (Village Roadshow, 1999)
Literature
Baudrillard, J., The Gulf War Did Not Take Place, Bloomington, 1995
Dussere, E., ‘Out of the Past, into the Supermarket: Consuming Film Noir’, Film Quarterly, 60, 1, 2006, pp.16-27
Foner, E., Give Me Liberty!, 2nd edn., New York, 2009
Graham, B., ‘Prize ‘Fight’ – Brad Pitt and Edward Norton go the distance in a brutal and funny world’, The San Francisco Chronicle (15 October, 1999)
Kimball, R., The Long March: How the Cultural Revolution of the 1960s Changed America, San Francisco, 2000.
Klein, N., No Logo: Taking Aim at the Brand Bullies, New York, 2000
Moses, M., Fighting Words: An interview with Fight Club director David Fincher, 1999, available at: http://web.archive.org/web/20071211235459/http://www.drdrew.com/article.asp?id=198
Nietzsche, F., Thus Spoke Zarathustra, trans. Graham Parkes, New York, 2005
Quiney, R., ‘”Mr Xerox,” the Domestic Terrorist, and the Victim-Citizen: Masculine and National Anxiety in Fight Club and Anti-Terror Law’, Law and Literature 19, 2, 2007, pp.327-56.


[1] ‘Fight Club’, dir. David Fincher (Regency Enterprises, 1999)
Bob Graham, ‘Prize ‘Fight’ – Brad Pitt and Edward Norton go the distance in a brutal and funny world’, The San Francisco Chronicle (15 October, 1999)
[2] ‘Office Space’, dir. Mike Judge (20th Century Fox, 1999)
‘American Beauty’, dir. Sam Mendes (DreamWorks SKG, 1999)
‘The Matrix’, dirs. Andy Wachowski, Larry Wachowski (Village Roadshow Pictures/Silver Pictures, 1999)
‘The Big Lebowski’, dir. Joel Coen (Working Title Films/Bitter Creek Productions Inc., 1998)
‘Three Kings’, dir. David O. Russell (Village Roadshow, 1999)
[3] Eric Foner, Give Me Liberty!, 2nd edn., New York, 2009, pp.998-1001.
[4] Ibid, pp.1004-6
[5] Ruth Quiney, ‘”Mr Xerox,” the Domestic Terrorist, and the Victim-Citizen: Masculine and National Anxiety in Fight Club and Anti-Terror Law’, Law and Literature 19, 2, 2007, pp.333-5.
[6] Foner, p.1015
Quiney, pp.334-6
[7] Foner, pp.1015, 1027
Quiney, p.335
[8] Foner, pp.996-8
[9] Erik Dussere, ‘Out of the Past, into the Supermarket: Consuming Film Noir’, Film Quarterly, 60, 1, 2006, p.24
[10] Foner, pp.998, 1014-5
Dussere, p.24
[11] Naomi Klein, No Logo: Taking Aim at the Brand Bullies, New York, 2000.
[12] Foner, pp.1012-3
[13] Quiney, p.334
[14] Jean Baudrillard, The Gulf War Did Not Take Place, Bloomington, 1995.
[15] Quiney, pp.342-3
[16] Quiney, pp.337-8
[17] Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, trans. Graham Parkes, New York, 2005, pp.9-17.
[18] Quiney, 331-2
Foner, p.1030
[19] Michael Moses, Fighting Words: An interview with Fight Club director David Fincher, 1999, available at: http://web.archive.org/web/20071211235459/http://www.drdrew.com/article.asp?id=198
[20] Ibid., p.1
[21] Roger Kimball, The Long March: How the Cultural Revolution of the 1960s Changed America, San Francisco, 2000, pp.248-9

No comments:

Post a Comment