What is a man? Man, I dunno. That’s why this month we’re getting “black-pilled” by two famous dudebro films (which are clearly treatises on manhood that are meant to be taken at face value) to try and uncover the essence of masculinity and finally morph into the ligma males we are destined to become.

American Psycho (2000)

Coming into this film, I wouldn’t consider myself an expert in masculinity. In my boyhood, I wasn’t as into football as my father was. I didn’t play basketball like my brother. My time in the Scouts was… different, to say the least. But now through watching Mary Harron’s “American Psycho,” I understand that that’s okay — masculinity isn’t about being the physically strongest.

It’s about style and killing anyone with more graphic design prowess than you.

Begin with a morning routine. Separate shampoo and conditioner. An herb-mint facial. Aftershave with no alcohol. Perfectly-pressed Valentino suits for a perfectly important job as a perfectly useless financial something-or-another. This is your lifestyle.

I know this seems a little metrosexual to some (and very homosexual to others). “Come on,” I hear you cry, “as a straight guy, I’ve never used anything other than 6-in-1 in the shower and that’s taken care of my needs just fine.” A while ago, my main objection would have been that you weren’t using 7-in-1 (the extra is peanut butter). But just wait — this is the truth of masculinity.

Once you get your perfect life, you get to start feeding your inner desires. Start an affair with your fiancée’s lithium-loopy best friend. Hire sex workers so you can admire your own muscles as you fuck them. Taunt homeless people with the promise of money and stab them when they praise your generosity. Break up with your fiancée because she means nothing to you; after all, “There are no girls with good personalities.” Kill the aforementioned sex workers. Kill an old grandma trying to stop you from feeding a kitten to an ATM. While you’re at it, blow up a cop car. You are unstoppable.

You see now that this is the furthest thing from gay. You admire your muscles to admire the idea of you. You choke a man in the bathroom because he had a better business card than you and thus had to be taken down to protect the idea of you. There is no love here, there is only the idea of you that needs protecting. This is about you. The carefully-constructed, Mark Zuckerburg-esque effect with which you engage with the world is a façade that makes you the same as every man around you. This is what protects you as you engage in terrible acts. So what if this leaves you with nothing real? There is an idea of you. And this performativity, this concealed desire — this is masculinity. Ceci n’est pas une sortie.

Fight Club (1999)

I used to be a submissive CS major here at UTD, but ever since I watched David Fincher’s cult classic film “Fight Club,” everything changed. The film focuses on an insomniac, played by Edward Norton, whose only passion is his furniture. He gets the idea to fake his way into several therapy groups, which finally allows him to sleep. After a choice encounter with an eccentric soap salesman named Tyler Durden, played by Brad Pitt, and his apartment (along with his precious furniture) exploding, he decides to team up with his new pal and create an organization where men can be their true selves… by beating each other up. Tyler accompanies the protagonist almost constantly. He gives him advice for what to say, what to do, and how to do it. Almost as if he’s — uhh…

Listen up. Men are shackled by Society™, and the only way for them to break free is to be their true selves. Shake off the chains of societal expectation and live the life you want to live. Start an underground bare-knuckle boxing organization. Physically beat yourself up in the middle of the street. Take an all-expenses paid trip to pound town with a mentally ill chick, all in garish late-’90s CGI. It’s your life, and it’s up to you to live it.

Ugh, what happened? Anyways, Tyler has a number of hobbies in common with the average CS major: he splices film reels of children’s movies with pornography, he pisses in the food he waits, and he produces and sells soap made from human fat. He serves as the de-facto leader of Fight Club, despite cofounding it with the protagonist, and eventually morphs it into “Project Mayhem” — a militaristic initiative dedicated to tearing down the status quo. The protagonist tries to walk away, but Tyler breaks up with him and his insomnia returns. He chases after Tyler, but Tyler is always one step ahead. Whenever the protagonist is asleep, Tyler is awake, which could only make sense if Tyler is the pr — eghh…

What is “Fight Club” really about? Well, the film is clearly a depiction of how society infantilizes men and how men need to lock in and reclaim their inner violence and not a satire of masculinity in the modern day. Tyler Durden is the castration-obsessed GOAT that all men should aspire to be, not the harmful antipode to the average wage slave’s languor. The protagonist’s extreme attachment to Tyler and the sweaty, moan-filled depiction of the fights are in no way a representation of anything but the True Masculine Spirit™. 

Thank you for the thematic overview, my sigma male alter ego who I do not know about. Anyway, the film is insane for its time, only showing its age with at-times wonky Final Fantasy X-ahh CGI. This film still deserves to be watched and discussed, even if the point of the film is often, often misunderstood.

Also Helena Bonham Carter plays Marla, a major character in this film, but I did not mention her because she is a woman and I am a sigma male and therefore sexist. Ok, goodbye.