The Art of Self-Defense
Riley Stearn’s (Faults) new movie, "The Art of Self Defense," is part "The Karate Kid", part "Fight Club" and a big heaping spoonful of toxic masculinity served in Hungry-Man sized portions and best eaten with a Swiss Army knife.
Jesse Eisenberg stars as Casey Davies, a nebbish accountant who openly admits to listening to adult contemporary music, is ridiculed by his alpha male coworkers and due to his gender-neutral name is sometimes mistaken for a woman. Unable to relate to the hypermasculinty that pervades his world, Casey retreats to the safety of his home where partakes in self pleasure to photocopied pictures of naked women and the nonjudgmental company of his pet Dachshund.
After being viciously attacked by a mysterious motorcycle biker gang one night while getting dog food, Casey stumbles upon the karate dojo of Sensei (Alessandro Nivola) — a man whose hands and feet instill fear and reverence in his students and is the embodiment of everything Casey wishes he could be as he explains to Sensei his rationale for taking karate classes, "I want to be what intimidates me."
Sensei takes Casey under his wing quickly and indoctrinates him to a worldview in which "everything should be as masculine as possible". In fact, the world of "The Art of Self-Defense" is a study in toxic masculinity with the Sensei creating a culture of physical strength, emotional repression and misogyny in his dojo. Ironically, the best student in the class is Anna (Imogen Poots). She knows that she will never attain the coveted black belt status since as a woman she has no place in the locker room hierarchy and is relegated to forever teaching the kids class. As Sensei later explains to Casey why Anna will never succeed in his dojo, "Her being a woman will always keep her from becoming a man."
Stearn eviscerates bro culture every chance he get as Casey's new found confidence under Sensei's tutelage highlights the absurdity of a world where a men's magazine comprised mostly of pictures of boobs and assault rifles has articles titled "Wolf, a Pet for a Man" and men strip down and massage each other to engage in half naked "cool down" sessions after late night karate lessons. Casey, the low man on the totem pole, indicative of his yellow belt status is forced to receive an inferior cool down massage from Anna's smaller and weaker hands in the boiler room that doubles as the women's locker room.
Eisenberg, Nivola and Poots all give excellent dead pan performances. Eisenberg's metamorphosis into a yellow belt-wearing badass is more funny than believable, but with the quintessential lack-of-confidence roles Eisenberg is known for he manages to make it work. The other actors that populate the dojo and Casey's workplace all combine to create a world where all the inhabitants speak in a monotone voice, violence against the meek is encouraged and spontaneous testosterone fueled push-up sessions are the norm. In fact the only time we see any emotions displayed by anyone are the grimaces and winces from the physical acts of violence the karate students partake in, be it during the controlled confines of class or out in the real world. When Casey starts to unravel the mystery of the night class reserved for Sensei's most loyal pupils, his face registers no emotion whatsoever, detached and cold, just like Sensei.
Writer-director Stearn manages to make Casey's transformation from mild mannered accountant to yellow belt wearing intimidator funny, absurd and very dark. "The Art of Self Defense" is a satirical and entertaining look at toxic masculinity that posits how Daniel LaRusso would have turned out if he'd never met Mr. Miyagi and instead walked directly into the Cobra Kai dojo. Sweep the leg Casey. Sweep the leg.