Bubbles that are afraid to burst

What genre does Fight Club (1999) belong to? If you thought it was action, you're sorely mistaken. It's a comedy. Don't laugh. It is a comedy. The whole idea was to make us blush while blood spilled. The deeply philosophical narrative was full of humorous punches that left us gasping for more. That's what made the movie different from what we usually feed our eyes with. There is an unexplained angst in the storyline which remains so despite the buildings crashing down in the finale. The emptiness that the narrator feels from the very onset of the story could be best metamorphosed by the soap that becomes an integral part of the cinematic journey! So much so it appears on the film's poster. If you remember the conversations between Jack and Tyler Durden, you'll notice that a soap is more just than a domestic utility. It can be a weapon of mass destruction. And this was way before 9/11 happened! However, that's not all. Can you think of any other man-made product that best defines the distinction between the rich and the poor than a piece of soap?

Watch and weigh

Do we really identify that classification called genre be it cinema or literature? I'm not sure. For ages now, we've been calling Titanic (1997) a love story dipped in honey (or freezing water). This is also the reason why upcoming movie critics are often seen deriding the monumental film. They simply can't get over its romantic tinge. And while doing so, they conveniently forget that it's the greatest disaster film ever attempted or accomplished. If James Cameron hadn't gone ahead with this seemingly impossible endeavor, it's hard to imagine Darren Aronofsky doing the same with Noah (2014) almost two decades later. Building the ship wasn't as big an achievement as sinking it. And that climactic scene when the liner is literally standing at right angle—about to trudge downwards—is a prime moment in the history of cinema. Had that scene failed to achieve what it set out to, the movie would have sunk instead. However, a corny dialogue—perched on the top of the doomed ship—by Rose reminding Jack that they ARE precisely where they first met each other superseded the visual treat. The selfless love exhibited wouldn't let us appreciate the scale a movie based on a historical disaster can reach. 

     Something not-so-different happened with Fight Club (1999) too. Because of the uninhibited violence and never-seen-before style of filmmaking, we tend to forget that the film is actually a comedy. It was meant to make us point finger at our species and laugh our gut out. The characters—real or imagined—keep shifting from one situation to another with the required comic punch. Be it Jack's incurable insomnia or Marla's unpredictable personality or Tyler's desirable insouciance, each one of them is blessed by laugh-with-me lines and expressions. Not only them, even the supporting cast tickle you. A boss who wouldn't give in unless you beat the shit out of yourself. Or a fighter who gets punched in the balls repeatedly only to be helped up by the guy who punched him down there. Or a priest who'd do anything but fight. Even the dark Kafkaesque climax involving Project Mayhem is funny because of the way Edward Norton's character is helplessly tied to a chair in his white office shirt and boxer. During that instant, you predict something bad is going to happen because in the back of your head, you ACTUALLY want it to happen. At least that's what Jack wished for before you fell for Marla. All the gyaan that was directed at you was existential for a purpose. Adding a twist to a knotted screenplay—moreover, to quench everyone's thirst—he blows his head off. What follows is far from what you expect from an  action adventure or a gripping thriller. 

     Moving ahead to the twentieth century, we saw how Inception (2010) gave birth to innumerable  dream-within-a-dream joke formats. For excuses ranging from "I didn't get it!" to "I love it when Nolan fucks with my head!" the marvelous film was referred to as a cautionary psychological thriller instead of a tragic romance. Well, there's no denying that the director took us on a walk through human subconsciousness but a bigger fact can't be ignored either. Every little thing that happened in the film was a testament to Dom's desire to spend some minutes—if not moments—with his dead wife Mal. He hasn't gotten over her death yet. Going by his nature, he never will. So, whatever be the consequences, he needs to be with her and for that sake, he's willing to jeopardise a lot of lives. And he almost does. But there's a twist in the tale here. He can be with her in his dreams but he can't control those dreams. In other words, he can't stop his beloved wife from killing herself again in his mind. At the same time, he would rather have the privilege of at least trying to stop her for a change and thus redeem himself of guilt. He loves her, you see? Wait. There's a another twist here. In his dreams, Mal doesn't seem to share mutual affection for him. Maybe she too wants him to move on. But he won't and a stupid totem can't do anything about it. He's part of the most brilliant one-sided love stories ever told on the big screen.

The unbearable act of overlooking

Robert Pattinson is four days younger to me. But he was recently voted the Sexiest Man Alive by a British magazine for the fourth consecutive year. By doing so, he beat the likes of Shakti Shetty, Johnny Depp and Ryan Gosling to the podium. Now, I've got nothing against him. I think he's a fine vampire who got cuckolded by someone as tepid as Kristen Stewart. And just three years ago, he was seated rather uncomfortably behind Brad Pitt at the Oscar ceremony and he smirked every time the camera panned on Brangelina. Almost seems like a decade ago. Perhaps with new age comes newer kids on the Holly block followed by the newest definition of sexiness. Anyway, Western publications conveniently presume some countries don't exist at all while selecting their man (or woman). Because at any given period of time—if i commit suicide—I'd be unanimously the Sexiest Man Dead. Enough of cribbing, I'm glad at least Time magazine maintains some standards. Like last year, i was ranked 101 on their 100 Most Influential People list.