Director: Paul Leyden
You can almost imagine the pitch meeting. Guys, of course, talking about Fight Club and someone says, “what if we made it funny and sexy?” Chick Fight is, of course, neither. Because men that presumably met women for the very first time when casting and shooting the film, made it.
There are, erm, kick-ass performances by Malin Ackerman and Bella Thorne – but there’s no chance of them ever meaning anything or going anywhere because the film’s premise is absurd, its clichés topple over like, well, a giant pile of clichés…
Alec Baldwin sleepwalks as the washed-up trainer. That’s not the film’s worst aspect, and Baldwin will be brilliant again possibly and will most certainly sleepwalk again too. But apart from the blatant disrespect of the film’s title, it’s a cringe-making set-up for walk-ins by ‘fierce’ lesbians and other caricatures from the 1970s and 1980s. It’s a tonal mess that wants to incorporate boxing jokes – but apparently can’t find any – as well as gross-out humour and then walks it all back as it searches for a third act (after barely offering a first and second) and then just decides to trade in the sloppy clichés of a sick-making rom-com.
I doubt the title, the cover or the concept – which is lofty even suggesting it is one or has one – will fool anyone. But don’t be fooled. This is fucking awful. Insulting. And stupid.