In 1967, a controversial social experiment was staged at Cubberley High School in Palo Alto, California. A history teacher named Ron Jones wanted to show his sophomores how democracy can fail, even in a free society. His students just couldn't comprehend how ordinary citizens just stood by, denying the atrocities committed by the rising Nazi regime. So Jones created a week-long lesson plan that included a salute, a slogan and an elite guard of enforcers. The movement spread virally outside of his classroom to encompass hundreds of students, quickly spiralling out of control. Jones convinced all the followers that the movement was part of a presidential campaign and they must attend a rally for their new leader. Then when they arrived, he explained the true nature of his lesson - how it was modelled on the rise of the Nazis. The experiment was called 'the Third Wave' and now, over half a century later, it remains relevant, perhaps even more so than ever. The Third Wave has been depicted in movies, books and even a musical play. It stands as a cautionary tale, especially in the martial world where cults are a very real and disturbing part of martial culture.

The social constructs of martial arts are fundamentally vulnerable to cultism. Martial arts schools are unregulated and often independently run (although it's usually the larger martial franchises that more often get accused as cults). Schools have a salute, are often bound by slogans, and have an intrinsic hierarchy in the belt systems that can easily be perverted into an elite guard of enforcers.

What's more, martial artists are susceptible to the very powers they cultivate. The Chinese Martial Arts have a term for it - zuo huo ru mo (走火入魔) - which literally means 'walk in the fire invites demons'. This refers to when Qigong goes wrong, resulting in paranoia, hallucinations and irrational beliefs. It's a medically-recognized mental illness labelled by the American Psychiatric Association's catalog of abnormal psychology, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM-IV). DSM-IV calls it 'Qi-gong psychotic reaction'. So what happens when a master is mad? Arguably every evil villain in the Kung Fu movies suffers from Qi-gong psychotic reaction, but how might a psychotic Sensei play out in a modern suburban context? It's an idea that THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE attempts to explore.

Writer-director Riley Stearns has tackled cults before in his previous film FAULTS (2014) which centered around a cult expert. Stearns also claims to have been practicing Jiu-jitsu for the last six years, so he has an intimate knowledge of Dojo politics and social mores. Most audiences might view THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE as a commentary on toxic masculinity, but anyone within the martial world will see deeper and more damning implications.

THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE centers around three main characters. Casey, played by Jesse Eisenberg, is milquetoast victim of a recent mugging who looks to Karate to restore his confidence and provide some needed self defense. It's a good role for Eisenberg, who specializes in playing nerdy wimpy types. Imogen Poots plays Anna, a talented Karateka and the senior student who gets overlooked because she's a woman. And Alessandro Nivola is the asshole Sensei, a role that he embodies unsettlingly well. THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE is a black comedy, too dark as Casey spirals down under Sensei's masochistic psychological grip.

The problem is that THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE begins on a much lighter note. The first half hour or so is filled with a droll style of martial mockery with soundtrack-free scenes that heighten Eisenberg's awkward moments. It's reminiscent of Danny McBride's deadpan parody THE FOOT FIST WAY (2006). Much of that humor is very effective, largely due to many of the pretenses of martial culture making for an easy target of ridicule. Eisenberg is best at playing snowflake crybabies so Casey is a good fit for him. In contrast, Nivola's dominating Sensei (Sensei's real name isn't revealed until the end) provides an alpha-male counterpoint to Casey as he manipulates him both physically and psychologically.

Then the film takes a savage turn, redolent of THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO (2009, Hollywood redux 2011) and never really emerges. Not to spoil it (the major mcguffin is predictable) but Casey's trigger is uncomfortably parallel to JOHN WICK (2014), however Casye's reaction is a far cry from the wicked choreographic spectacle of that sanguinous franchise. Neither Eisenberg, Poots nor Nivola practiced martial arts prior to this film although their naivete, especially in regards to Eisenberg, lends some authenticity to the performance. While there are a few fight scenes, this film is not a showcase of impressive martial arts skill. It's more about the storytelling, which is out-of-the-box for the martial arts genre. It's just a little too out-of-the-box.

Where THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE fails is in its inability to reconcile the humor and the bleak psychological thriller. Perhaps that's a hallmark for black comedy, that exploration into the humorous aspects of taboo topics like psychological manipulation, but here, the two tones of the film are not in harmony. They are actually rather jarring. It's hard to imagine what sort of audience this film might find beyond some fawning critics looking for anything distinct from the pack.

It's ironic timing for THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE to open because the classic megalomaniac Sensei Dojo from the eighties is enjoying renewed success on YouTube with their exclusive series, COBRA KAI. On a larger level, THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE had the opportunity to make some greater social commentary about totalitarianism. That would've been so much more relevant with Nazism on the rise in the U.S. However, the story falls short of going there too.

For martial artists, like the Third Wave, THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE is an absurdist cautionary tale. With a little projection, it's an extreme lens for examining martial ethics, one that scrutinizes the martial community very negatively on many levels. Unlike most successful martial arts films that can potentially increase school enrollment, THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE is likely to put the pedestrian audience off on ever pursuing the martial way. Filmmaker Steans makes a few keen observations on the testosterone-filled social dynamics that exist in some martial arts schools, but not quite enough to be fulfilling. And after posing the questions, THE ART OF SELF-DEFENSE offers no answers.