Fisticuffs: a look at the ethics of movie fistfights

A FEW WEEKS ago I was watching "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" for the first time, and I was troubled by one of the scenes early on. Young, patriotic, upstanding Jefferson Smith (played by nice guy Jimmy Stewart) punches a reporter in the face. And what's more, nothing is said about it. No scandal, no charges, no issue whatsoever. It's just assumed that decking someone you don't like is OK.

Several days later I saw "The Best Years of Our Lives," a best-picture winner about soldiers adjusting to civilian life after World War II. And again, one of our heroes belts a guy he disagrees with. The man's boss rushes to the scene, where the fallen man lies in a pile of broken glass that once used to be a display counter. "I know, I know," the former G.I. says plaintively, and I expected him to follow with an apology or a promise to submit himself quietly to the police. "I know, I'm fired," he says instead. It's not even clear what lost him the job: the violence or the ruined store property.

Then I watched "Giant," the sprawling Texan drama that sees macho cattle rancher Jordan Benedict dragged into the twentieth century by an outspoken woman, a son who doesn't follow the family footsteps, and marriage between his family and the hated Mexicans. The film culminates with Benedict's acceptance of his mixed-race grandson, which he proves by duking it out with a racist restaurant owner. His wife tells him she was most proud of him at that moment, and no mention is made of medical bills or property damage or lawsuits.

Now, it might be just coincidence that I encountered a one-two-three punch of pugilistic action in so short a time. Perhaps these three films (from 1939, 1946, and 1956, respectively) are not typical of their time. But I'm having trouble thinking of movies today in which fistfights are treated so cavalierly. While a movie like "Fight Club" (1999) is infinitely more bloody and brutal than these old-time brawls, the morality of fighting is anything but shrugged aside, and is linked to anarchist outsiders rather than upstanding citizens. Certainly a senator punching a reporter would not be an inconsequential act if it were in a movie today.

This is not to suggest that violent movies today always give weight to their character's actions. Macho cops like Martin Riggs and John McClane blow up buildings and maim bad guys in the name of heroism. But such extremes are usually in the domain of action heroes, superheroes, spies — not your average joe. If violence is celebrated, it is usually within the context of a fantasy world, and more often than not performed with guns, swords, or gadgets rather than bare fists.

Is this an important distinction? I think it is. While I don't want to dismiss the effect of ultra-violent movies on the psyche, I think that common violence — a punch in the heat of the moment — is more destructive. This kind of violence, after all, is readily imitable by anyone with hands and a momentary loss of control. It does not involve planning, procuring weapons, premeditation, or any of the barriers inherent to more exaggerated violence. This common violence is the weapon of domestic violence and child abuse, crimes that are quite under-reported and given so little attention in an age where splashier violence grabs headlines. This is a more widespread violence. (In 2000, 15,517 murders were committed in the U.S., while instances of reported aggravated assault numbered 910,744, according to FBI statistics. Some estimates by domestic violence experts place the number of battered women at 3 to 4 million in the U.S.)

By no means am I suggesting that movies are responsible for actions of abusers, nor that abuse was worse in the '30s, '40s, and '50s when more casual fistfighting was depicted on screen. I am simply applauding that more movies today treat fistfights as a moral issue. If one person strikes another to coerce his opinion, to teach a lesson, or to punish, that act does not go unquestioned.

Consider scenes from recent movies in which ordinary guys punch someone (this is not an exhaustive list, just the best variety of scenes from films I've seen): In "Groundhog Day" (1993), Phil Connors decks an insurance salesman who's harassing him for the millionth time as Connors is stuck living the same day over and over. But the scene is played as part of Connors' decent into selfishness and despair — a sort of "No one would ever do that!" moment — rather than a casual act. In "High Fidelity" (2000), Rob Gordon punches out his ex-girlfriend's current beau, but it is then revealed to be an act of imagination, and he does not act on it. In "The Wedding Singer" (1998), Robbie Hart also picks a fight with his romantic rival, only to go down with one punch. (When the rival gets his comeuppance, interestingly, he is not taken down with violence but is locked up, as if in jail.)

Somewhat more aggressive are "The Paper" (1994) and "Bridget Jones's Diary" (2001), which both feature more extended fistfights between rivals and get a little bloody. But rather than being glamorized or casual, both scenes are awkward and disheartening, with no sense of having solved anything.

The last big movie I can think of that glamorized a punch was "Back to the Future" (1985), which finds wimp George McFly knocking out bully Biff Tannen in the climactic moment. Thanks to the wonder of time travel, his son Marty McFly escapes the world of the cowering George and finds himself with the assertive George, complete with nice house, nice clothes, and a nice black truck for Marty — a very positive result. But by the time "Back to the Future Part III" (1990) rolled around, Marty has learned to walk away from a fight. This was an intentional transition; on the director commentary to the "Back to the Future" DVD, Robert Zemeckis said he regretted ending Part I without any emotional or spiritual growth on the part of young Marty.

I do not mean to paint today's movies in a rosy hue, because the violence in many are still ethically questionable. But at least the ethical question is being asked. Even if many movies perform ethical gymnastics to excuse the presentation of violent content, that seems better to me than passive acceptance.

Ultimately, I believe that the context of violent acts is more important than the content shown. This is a distinction completely lost on the MPAA and other watchdog organizations, which consider the images and words displayed more dangerous than ideas and values. The biggest danger about watching movies aren't the controversial issues they present, but the issues that movies leave unexamined altogether. It's the attitudes and beliefs we don't talk about that creep into our lives most insidiously, that keep us from moral growth. Here's hoping that the movies keep openly wrestling over our moral behavior.