THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE: Toxic Masculinity Takes A Hit Where It Hurts

Sometimes a film comes along that is so different and so offbeat, you can’t help but fall for it. This year, that film is The Art Of Self-Defense from writer and director Riley Stearns. It’s a dark, dry take on toxic masculinity that’s reminiscent of something from the mind of Yorgos Lanthimos.

When Casey (Jesse Eisenberg), is attacked by a biker gang in the street late one night, he turns to karate to find some sort of inner strength. He’s a shy, passive accountant who seemingly lets everyone walk all over him. Upon entering the dojo and starting classes, Casey quickly finds a new confidence he never knew existed. It comes mostly from his Sensei (Alessandro Nivola) and begins to spread to the rest of his life from his work relationships to taking on the alpha role with his dog.

In The Art Of Self-Defense, Stearns has crafted a sharp take on the state of masculinity and how men see themselves as one of two options in 2019. You’re either Sensei – an alpha, who has bemoaned the death of men or you’re a more reasonable man like Casey, who understands there’s nuance and range of personalities men can embody – even if it takes Casey a while to get there.

While The Art Of Self-Defense is a bit of a one trick pony in that it hits one message and one theme, it hits that theme so bluntly and powerfully, that it deserves the praise it’s received. Eisenberg reminds us that nobody plays a somewhat sad, passive and dry character (see: The Social Network) better than anyone else. The film goes so over-the-top to make its point, you can’t help but enjoy it. It won’t be for everyone, but The Art Of Self-Defense is a dark, sharp and poignant take on the current gender roles and expectations in society.

As deeply funny as dark comedy comes

The Art of Self-Defense doesn’t set out to be a crowd-pleaser. Rather, it’s happy to be so dry, many audiences won’t connect with it. Not only is the entire script delivered as deadpan as can be, the dialogue itself isn’t so much punchlines as dry, sardonic wit.

“You have to punch with your feet and kick with your hands.” Sensei tells Casey. Then later, Casey buys colored belts, so the entire dojo can show off their skill level, even in street clothes. It’s especially touching for the brown and black belts. Seeing these adults so dedicated to karate, a hobby usually associated with younger children, adds to the sense of humor although it’s never outwardly stated. The self-seriousness of the characters and situations everyone find themselves in and the escalation of tension are so extreme, it lands into the world of hilariousness.

Not only is the dialogue lacking traditional punchlines (no karate pun intended), but the cinematography, color treatment and set designs all feel dry, almost without any distinguishing personality – they could be anywhere and of any era. While for many films, this could be a drawback, with The Art Of Self-Defense it actually adds to the universality of the message. Excessive masculinity has always been a problem, no matter where and when we’re talking about.

Hits one note with a few different tones

The Art of Self-Defense only sets out to make one point – how horrible obsession with masculinity is. It does it extremely well, although some may get fed up with it. It doesn’t necessarily even offer many solutions to the problem. What keeps the film from getting stale is a mix up in tone.

While at first, it’s a more calm, sympathetic story, as soon as Casey begins his journey in the dojo, it becomes more outwardly comedic. Sensei is shown to be an asshole and villainous. As Casey follows him more and more, we feel him enter into a world of danger. Suddenly the stakes are higher, and there’s a sense of thrill towards the end of the second act – we’ve left the calm, sympathetic world behind. Finally, the third act and climax of the film are so excessive and outlandish, it enters absurdist territories.

The tonal shifts may be abrupt and turn off some viewers. It’s a wild ride, but if you stay onboard and buy in, you’re rewarded handsomely. The tonal shifts feel similar to that of Sorry To Bother You from Boots Riley last year. It’s not what you’d necessarily expect, but it absolutely delivers to the right audience.

A role made for Eisenberg

If you’ve seen Adventureland, The Social Network or even Zombieland, you know that the role of Casey was made for Eisenberg. He’s not a macho actor, instead he plays the quiet, clever smart guy better. And Casey in The Art of Self-Defense seems to be the culmination of all of those roles.

On the one hand, it feels like he’s not acting that much, but just delivering lines straight. On a deeper look, you can really see the transition he makes from passive wimp to aggressive self-confidence, even if it’s wrapped up in trying to be something he’s not. There’s an understated range in his performance that shouldn’t be overlooked.

The Art Of Self-Defense: The darkest comedy of the year

With a stellar performance from Jessie Eisenberg, and a script that set out to show the dark side of masculinity, The Art of Self-Defense is a home run for writer and director Riley Stearns – albeit a niche one. It’s incredibly dry, lacking almost any sympathy and keeping the audience on edge with its tonal shifts. It’s undoubtedly funny, incredibly bold and not afraid to pull any punches.

What are your favorite dark comedies? Sound off in the comments below.

Watch The Art Of Self-Defense