Written by Eva Sivilla and Noa Druker for Michael Filtz’s Cinema Styles course

In its primitive form, the use of violence in cinema ranged from portraying moral consciousness to simply serving as a form of entertainment. Yet, through the evolution of characterization, the advancement of modern-day cinematography, and a societal desensitization to violence, Hollywood and the film industry now prioritize mindless brutality over the illustration of deeper cultural anxieties as seen through the contrast between Chad Stahelski’s 2014 John Wick and David Fincher’s 1999 Fight Club. 

To begin, the complexity of Fincher’s protagonist emulates all there is to know about the film. A narrator, struggling with insomnia, encounters the charismatic soap-seller Tyler Durden, with whom he embarks on a thrilling journey of friendship as he seeks adventure in his rather plain lifestyle. However, viewers realize by the end of the film that the narrator suffers from a dissociative identity disorder, notably explaining his imaginary alter ego that is in fact Tyler Durden. As a result of an intricate protagonist with deep moral and mental confusion, Fincher is able to mirror the cultural anxieties of the 20th-century. The end of the 20th-century is characterized by the re-identification of the role of men in society. Professor of European ethnology at Lund University, Jonas Frykman distinguishes the late 1990s as a period of time in which “men have so deliberately begun to profile themselves against women” (Frykman 12). Threatened by the cultural development of a feminist movement in which women’s purpose is not to be stuck at home and in the kitchen, this gender-war sets the scene for Fincher’s depiction of his protagonist’s emasculation. 

Thus, Fincher strategically incorporates the brutality of the fight club, a setting in which the narrator may restore his primal sense of identity. Through the organization of violent fights in a local bar’s basement, the narrator feels exhilarated as he experiences the thrill of risk he has been seeking. The character’s motivation is ultimately emulated through the violence of these fights as he reconnects with his lost sense of masculinity. This overly stimulated virility is an underlying consequence of “the women’s movement play[ing] a crucial part in changing men’s roles” in society (Frykman 13). 

On a larger scale, Fincher incorporates the use of bloodshed for the demonstration of moral ambiguity and the identity crises of men during this time. In “Space for a Man: The Transformation of Masculinity in 20th Century Culture,” Frykman continues to reiterate how traditional masculine expectations “have prevented men from […] developing the softer, more feminine side of themselves” (Frykman 12). It essentially contributes to a greater psychological understanding of toxic masculinity and its impending effects on the mental stability of men during this time. Nevertheless, the 21st-century does not apply the use of characterization in a similar way. Simple-minded and easily configurable, John Wick’s sole motivation is revenge as he seeks to obtain justice for those he has lost. Strong and candid, viewers can easily justify the character’s violence towards Iosef Tarasov, the apparent villain of the story. With little reference to any societal norms, Stahelski remains solely focused on displaying the protagonist’s bravery. 

A clear dichotomy to the depth of characterization of the narrator in Fight Club, John Wick holds no attachment to a greater understanding of human culture, as the protagonist himself proves to be very frank in his narrow-minded ideology of avenging his lost pet. Produced in the early 2010s, Stahelski does not feel obligated to embody societal concerns seeing as viewers’ interest is easily satisfied by the unequivocal characterization of a man like John. Grappling with a translucent and straightforward protagonist, the 21st-century’s involvement with technology further highlights the shallowness of Hollywood cinema’s visual representation of violence. Having once been solemnly attached to the idea of depicting realism on the big screen, today the film industry’s leniency towards digital development irrevocably disillusions this idea. 

David Fincher’s Fight Club describes the story of the narrator as he struggles with his alter ego’s apparition into his life in the form of an imaginary friend. Just as these two characters create ‘Project Mayhem’ and Tyler Durden defines the rules of fight club, a cinematic montage plays as brutal fights between participants are characterized by nothing but their unbridled and authentic nature. Fincher utilizes various camera angles to effortlessly portray the point-of-view of either the winner or loser in each fight. In terms of choreography, the action-scenes are produced in a simplistic manner in which Fincher does not incorporate any external means of digital advancement other than the intricate use of stunt doubles. Bloody and raw, the violence in this film illustrates the exhilaration the narrator wishes to feel considering his battle with insomnia, yet underlyingly embodies the obscure nature of his alternate personality, Tyler. 

Considering its true popularization in Hollywood in the 1990s, the use of computer-generated imagery truly relinquishes the limitations the camera has on production. CGI allocates viewers a three-dimensional experience “maintaining the perspectival order of the image even when the camera is mobile” (Steinberg 6). Not bound by the laws of physics, action films’ inner working and editing process takes a turn towards modernity and true digital materialization in the 21st-century. While Keanu Reeves impressively performs almost 90% of all of his stunt work, the use of CGI facilitates his dramatized performance as John Wick. Through four bone-chilling, enticing, perpetual action films, this protagonist’s endeavors merit the use of technology to fully capture the extent of his fearsome abilities. Depicted by grand explosives and quick-paced chases followed by blunt shootouts, the 2014 film encompasses the definition of action-filled entertainment as this truly proves to be its sole purpose. A spectacle for the eyes to see, Stahelski flawlessly executes the use of violence as a mindless weapon of entertainment through which viewers can enjoy the lack of emotional connectivity, accentuating its exemplar of antirealism. 

Nonetheless, Fincher’s lack of CGI and sole hand-fist combat serves as a means of authentic violence perfectly suited for the realistic internal conflict his protagonist faces over the course of the movie. With the desire to convey the deeper mental distress of the narrator, Fight Club rather visually represents violence through masculine disparity and raw talent than to succumb to the use of automatization. However, only a few decades later, viewers experience a drastically different use of brutality as Stahelski omits any psychological depth to his character’s actions. Allowing the thoroughly edited scenes to highlight John’s physical abilities, he renounces any form of realism in his production and instead focuses his energy on personifying his protagonist’s revenge and killer instincts. Ultimately, the intricacy of the revenge plot requires”suspension […] of disbelief [as the film pits its]heroic figure against hundreds of attackers,” leaving viewers in awe at a takedown completely out-of-this world (Posada 191). The daunting contrast between realism and antirealism depends on the technological advancement in cinema production. Lisa Bode, professor at the University of Queensland, reiterates that the use of such technology is “intrinsically detrimental to cinema’s realism” (Bode 1). Bode explains how this use of artifice and illusion further questions viewer engagement and credulity, through which the audience’s perception of a film may be solely based on the superficiality represented by the use of digitized editing.

However, reflecting on the impacts of the dynamic relationship between realism and antirealism, this tension reveals that viewer engagement and perception has greatly evolved since the late 20th century. Once having been based on emotional connectivity with the plotline and characters, viewers found purpose in cinematic violence as they were able to experience the level of pain inflicted on victims on the big screen. Yet, as time passed, viewer preferences and engagement with cinema have shifted to a sense of personal escapism; omitting the desire to feel any sentiment with the violence portrayed in action films. In fact, American psychiatrist and author, Frederic Wertham describes the evolution of the audience as follows: “Moviegoers fall into three categories […] the third group had become completely accustomed to [the violence]. They were indifferent and felt: this is how it is; you might as well see it” (Wertham 5).  This third category of viewers contributes to a generalized desensitization to violence, more notably a division of logical mindsets accompanied by the desire to be entertained.  A 21st-century series such as John Wick fully exemplifies this recent societal preference as its portrayal of violence to the masses discourages the depth and poignancy of brutality. Stahelski’s creation speaks to a different set of cultural anxieties that permeate society – specifically, cultural anxieties that masses wish to turn away from, glaring into the face of antirealism. 

Richard Barsam and Dave Monaham, both college film professors, reveal that realistic films portray a viewership’s trust as a “variety of historical, political, sociological, economic, and philosophical theories provid[ing] a framework for understanding” (Barsam and Monaham 51). However, in films such as John Wick, the action-packed sequences designed for grandiose entertainment are meant to distract viewers from these societal frameworks and encourage audiences to get lost in the meaningless fun of violence. These behaviors, as assistant professor of philosophy at Haverford College Reid Miller puts it, likens it to a “decrease of moral competence,” even a “displacement implicitly attributable to a diminished symbolic understanding of death” (Miller 709). This societal coping mechanism emulated through displacement is nearly impossible when confronted with the painfully tender realism of Fight Club. 

To conclude, the use of cinematic violence from Fight Club to John Wick is a profound reflection of the shifting paradigms of storytelling. From the nuanced exploration of cultural anxieties in the late 20th century to the embrace of brutality of the 21st century, the evolution underscores the impact of changing character development, every-adapting CGI, and viewership experiences. These transitions explore the fine distinction between realism and antirealism and invite reflection on the dynamic nature of cinema and film.

Works Cited 

Barsam, Richard, and Dave Monahan. Looking at Movies: An Introduction to Film. W.W. Norton & Company, 2018. 

Bode, Lisa. “‘It’s a Fake!’: Early and Late Incredulous Viewers, Trick Effects, and CGI.” Film History, vol. 30, no. 4, Winter 2018, pp. 1–21. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/10.2979/filmhistory.30.4.01. Accessed 27 Nov. 2023. 

Fincher, David, director. Fight Club. 20th Century Studios, 1999.

Frykman, Jonas. “Space for a Man: The Transformation of Masculinity in 20th Century Culture.” Reproductive Health Matters, vol. 4, no. 7, May 1996, pp. 11–18. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/3775346. Accessed 27 Nov. 2023. 

Irwin, William. “‘Fight Club’, Self-Definition, and the Fragility of Authenticity.” Revista Portuguesa de Filosofia, vol. 69, no. 3/4, 2013, pp. 673–84. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/23785885. Accessed 28 Nov. 2023. 

Miller, Reid. “A Lesson in Moral Spectatorship.” Critical Inquiry, vol. 34, no. 4, Summer 2008, pp. 706–28. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/10.1086/592548. Accessed 12 Dec. 2023. 

Posada, Tim. “#METOO’S First Horror Film: Male Hysteria and the New Final Girl in 2018’s Revenge.” Project Muse, Leuven University Press, 2020, pp. 189–206, muse.jhu.edu/pub/258/edited_volume/chapter/2739300/pdf. Accessed 27 Nov. 2023. 

Stahelski, Chad, director. John Wick. Summit Entertainment, 2014.

Steinberg, Marc. “Inventing Intervals: The Digital Image in ‘Metropolis’ and ‘Gonkutsuō.’” Mechademia: Second Arc, vol. 7, 2012, pp. 3–22. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/i40076396. Accessed 28 Nov. 2023. Wertham, Fredric. “Is So Much Violence in Films Necessary?” Cinéaste, vol. 2, no. 1 (5), Summer1968, pp. 4–36. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/43238737. Accessed 28 Nov. 2023.