It’s hardly a coincidence that it took almost a decade for a second movie based on a Chuck Palahniuk novel to hit the big screen.
The subversive Portland-based author has built up such a rabid fan base over time that a certain amount of fear must have descended upon the many who thought of tackling his work, not to mention that David Fincher’s “Fight Club” has now settled in as an undeniable cult classic. With that in mind, it makes sense that first-time director Clark Gregg would look to Palahniuk’s material for his big breakthrough. And thus, “Choke” was born.
The film follows the life of Victor Mancini (Sam Rockwell), a self-diagnosed scumbag of sorts, who lives a life the “Fight Club” narrator might have developed had Tyler Durden not come along. He prowls sex addict workshops for one-night-stands, sleepwalks through his day job as a character in a recreation of Colonial America, and purposely chokes on food in high-class restaurants in hopes that the unwitting patrons who give him the Heimlich Maneuver keep in touch by sending him cash.
The sole exception to Victor’s “Satan spawn” status is the care he gives to his mother, Ida (Anjelica Huston), who resides in a care home for older, mentally ailing women. When we meet her for the first time, she’s deteriorated enough to not even know who he is, which, given Victor’s status in life, is perfectly alright with him. From here, the plot takes more twists than you can count, the most important ones involving Ida’s nurse (Kelly Macdonald).
Billed primarily as a comedy, the first thing that’s noticeable about the movie is that it’s not as funny as one might have hoped. The extreme vulgarities whose absurdity is designed to coax laughter somehow consistently seem tamer than they ought to. This isn’t to say that “Choke” isn’t funny in spaces, but the majority of the time you simply acknowledge that it’s trying instead of actually chuckling.
Gregg, the director, seems insistent on reminding the viewers of the source material, opening the movie with a scene of circled chairs, guilty admissions and voice-over work that intentionally draws comparisons to the only other Palahniuk cinematic venture. The problem with this, however, is that “Fight Club” is a story of big concepts with a little bit of devilish fun, and seeing as “Choke” is exactly the opposite, it should have been handled with a different sort of care.
On the bright side, Rockwell is as fun as ever to watch, relishing his roll with evil glee. It might not be a memorable performance, but it’s one that keeps you easily entertained. Huston, in a more difficult part, hits all the right notes as well, balancing love and neglect perfectly between the film’s flashback sequences and her current broken state. Macdonald continues to have the same issues with line delivery that plagued her in “No Country for Old Men,” but when you look her in the eyes, you know she means it.
It’s this that makes Macdonald’s performance a perfect analogy for the movie: a lot to say, but not very good at saying it. Particularly in the last act, some interesting philosophical questions are raised, but by the time the lights come up, you don’t get the feeling that you’ve gotten anywhere.
It’s a pretty ambitious project for first-timer Gregg (who also wrote the script), and his inexperience shows. “Choke” succeeds for a good deal of its runtime on the strength of its concepts and Rockwell’s performance, but it falls well-short of the entertaining and engaging heights to which it aspires.
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