See It or Skip It: Choke

Standing in the shadow of a man like David Fincher is never easy. Plunking yourself there by tackling material you’re ill-equipped to handle is just begging for a flogging, one we’re happy to give.

Clark Gregg’s adaptation of Choke, the first Chuck Palahniuk novel to be turned into a film since 1999’s Fight Club, is a meandering, poorly constructed, inadequately executed turkey. Palahniuk’s transgressional fiction is lost in the first time director’s insufficient vision, poorly constructed script and almost unwatchable performances by usually-stellar actors like Anjelica Huston. Lacking style, panache or grit, the movie languishes onscreen, practically begging to be put out of its misery. Perhaps Palahniuk should take a page from Tom Robbins and not allow anymore of his books to be turned into films.

Choke stars Sam Rockwell as Victor Mancini, a sex-addict who supports his Alzheimer stricken mother (Huston fashioned like Carmen San Diego in flashbacks) by working as a Colonial re-enactor who spends his evenings deliberately choking on food in ritzy restaurants to entice wealthy patrons to come to his rescue with both the Heimlich maneuver and subsequent financial aid.

It has the weirdness of Fight Club but none of the biting wit, unforgettable visuals or cult-inspiring performances. In fact, the only thing memorable about Choke is how unfortunate it is.

Skip it.