Rough and Tumble | The Nation


Rough and Tumble

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Begin with a cluster of molecules in the void. The camera zooms away from them, sucking you back through some dim anatomical corridor. Lights waver and flash; the soundtrack delivers jolt after jolt of fry-your-head-in-the-microwave music.

About the Author

Stuart Klawans
The Nation's film critic Stuart Klawans is author of the books Film Follies: The Cinema Out of Order (a finalist for...

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Now begin again. The soundtrack thrums with power chords and a punkish beat. Lights waver and flash. The camera zooms forward, hurtling you down a dim two-lane asphalt strip toward the void.

These are the first images of Fight Club and Boys Don't Cry, films that ponder the crazy, violent souls of American men. One movie locates itself along a neural path; the other, on the rock 'n' roll highway. So the question is simple: Would you prefer to be inside or out?

If you choose the outside world, you find yourself in the Nebraska of Boys Don't Cry, Kimberly Peirce's harrowing reconstruction of the last weeks of Brandon Teena's life. Born in Lincoln in 1972, Brandon died in a burst of gunfire a mere twenty-one years later, having outraged part of the community of Falls City with his biological impertinence. Though he felt himself to be a man--felt it so deeply that he died for it--the police always knew him by his birth name, Teena Brandon, a label that fit him as uncomfortably as did his breasts and vagina. The details of the case have made their way into one previous film, Susan Muska and Greta Olafsdottir's well-received documentary The Brandon Teena Story (1998). Now, in Boys Don't Cry, we get a fictionalized account, which suggests as much as it records. The film evokes the longings of the young women who were Brandon's girlfriends; it lays bare the rage and confusion of the men who raped and murdered him. Most of all, most compellingly, it dwells on Brandon's inability to be like these men--an inability that pained and alarmed him, got him killed and was clearly his best quality.

But before I go on about Boys Don't Cry, let me inquire into the more highly touted of these Machodämmerung movies. What are the best qualities of the men in David Fincher's Fight Club?

What, for that matter, are the good qualities?

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