Fight Club, The Matrix, and More: How ‘End of History’ Cinema took over the 90s

Take a look at some of the most popular films of the 1990s. You may notice a pattern.

Fight Club (1999), The Matrix (1999), The Truman Show (1998), Office Space (1999)– four movies, spanning genres from Thriller to Sci-Fi to Comedy, all have one very important thing in common: they share the same premise.

“A disillusioned man abandons a comfortable lifestyle, rebelling against the status quo in search of truth, purpose, and fulfillment.”

Sound familiar? It should.

This formula defined an era of filmmaking brimming with existentialist questioning and thinly veiled angst. The movies of this period reflect the most prevalent problems, anxieties, ideologies, and sensibilities of the 90s, ultimately forming a niche subgroup of their own– what can aptly be called “End of History” cinema.

To understand how this trend occurred, we have to acknowledge the cultural landscape that produced it.

History ended, but we’re still here

As most people are aware, the world did not, in fact, end at the turn of the century (sorry, Prince). However, many people alive in the 90s sure did not feel that way. For a while, the world as they knew it really was ending.

But first, a history lesson for the unacquainted:

During the years immediately following the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, the Western world experienced a period of unprecedented peace and stability. With the defeat of the 20th century’s two greatest terrors– fascism and communism– it was as if the world had crossed a threshold into a new era.

Many believed that, with the unhindered spread of liberal democracy worldwide, things would only continue to get better. A certain optimism emerged– the idea that war, poverty, and oppression could soon be things of the past.

This notion of the world entering a fixed state of utopia is referred to by political scholars as the “End of History.”

Political scientist Francis Fukuyama outlines this sentiment in his 1992 book The End of History and the Last Man:

“What we may be witnessing is … the end of history as such … the endpoint of mankind’s ideological evolution and the universalization of Western liberal democracy as the final form of human government.”

— Francis Fukuyama

Over the years, this philosophy became firmly established within the collective consciousness of Western societies.

Democratization and progress in 90s media

Political optimism quickly spread from the newspapers to the culture. Ideals of progress, democracy, and liberalization were portrayed positively in the films and TV shows of this 1990s:

• A Few Good Men (1992) depicts the trial of a high-ranking American Colonel, showing faith that even the most powerful people are not above the law.
• The West Wing (1999-2006) features an American President and his cabinet who are genuinely committed to equality and dignity.
• The People vs. Larry Flynt (1996) centers on a court case in which freedom of speech is upheld and protected by the American judicial system.

This movement wasn’t just limited to the United States, however. Films based on events from all over the world reflected these same sentiments:

• Cry, the Beloved Country (1995) takes place in the aftermath of South Africa’s transition from the brutal Apartheid regime to democracy, ruminating on how to reconcile the nation’s dark past with a brighter future.
• Peppermint Candy (1999), a South Korean film, focusses on the impacts of regime changes on one man’s life.
• Beyond Rangoon (1995) follows protestors fighting for democracy in Burma.
• A City of Sadness (1989) celebrates the transition from martial law to democracy in Taiwan.

However, as the decade wore on, alternative responses to the new, pacified state of the world began to emerge.

No more history, no more future

Surprisingly, in The End of History and the Last Man, Fukuyama doesn’t frame the End of History as entirely positive. Rather, he discusses the variety of new, unforeseen complications that could arise once this point has been reached.

In the following passage, Fukuyama considers how the public might react to life in a conflict-free utopian society:

“Experience suggests that if men cannot struggle on behalf of a just cause … They will struggle for the sake of struggle. They will struggle, in other words, out of a certain boredom: for they cannot imagine living in a world without struggle.”

— Francis Fukuyama

Francis Fukuyama questions his own suggestion that an era of world peace is on the horizon. Ultimately, he wonders if such a state could even be reached at all.

Fukuyama’s predictions would come to ring hauntingly true. Far beneath the outward appearance of prosperity and stability, a deep sense of nihilism was brewing across the West.

Gen xistentialism

Generation X (those born between 1965 and 1980) inherited a world that was not defined by any particular major conflict. They were perhaps the first in history to do so.

Their great-grandparents had known the horrors of WWI and survived the Great Depression. Their grandparents saved Europe from fascism in WWII. Many of their parents had helped overthrow oppressive political regimes across Europe, Asia, and the global south. Many more died trying.

Each of these prior generations was born with a purpose– some great fight that made their existences worthwhile. In contrast, most of Generation X had only ever known peace.

Ironically, this peace created an epidemic– a generation of lost souls yearning for their own great challenge. A trial that would give their lives meaning.

This idea– that nothing anyone did anymore truly mattered– seeped into the root of society’s collective subconscious. As more and more of Generation X reached adulthood, more and more the same questions were asked:

Is this it? Now what?

Nihilism and the Search for purpose in 90s media

By the late 90s, these questions had answers. Some of them, at least, but not definitive ones.

The popular media of the time sought to reflect and reconcile the struggles with fulfillment that so many faced. The solutions they present, however, vary widely.

Fight Club (1999) is probably the most famous example of a film in this vein. It captures in visceral detail the dark paths one might follow in searching for purpose.

In fact, the film’s most famous monologue eerily echoes Fukuyama’s prediction that a stable society may lead individuals to generate conflict for its own sake:

“We’re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War is a spiritual war. Our Great Depression is our lives … And we’re very, very pissed off.”

— Tyler Durden, portrayed by Brad Pitt

In the unique case of Fight Club, the reaction against the peaceful status quo manifests as a Kaczynski-esque terrorist plot to destroy industrial society.

Same problems, different stories

However, other films of time represent the same struggle in wildly different ways.

• Office Space (1999) centers on an office worker who disregards his responsibilities after a botched hypnotherapy session, adopting a new laid-back worldview.
• The Truman Show (1998) depicts Jim Carrey’s character’s desire to escape to the real world after learning his picturesque community is actually a set for a TV show.
• The Matrix (1999) reveals that the boring reality of Keanu Reeves’ character, Neo, is a simulation waiting to be broken free from.
• Human Traffic (1999) comedically frames UK rave culture as an escape from the monotony of a 9 to 5.
• American Beauty (1999) features Kevin Spacey as a romantically unfulfilled father who yearns to defy societal taboos.
• Falling Down (1993), sees Michael Douglas play a recently-fired corporate employee who goes on a violent rampage.

The list goes on.

Despite their differences in genre and tone, all of the above films share the same purpose: to demonstrate a reaction against the chronic purposelessness faced by so many during this period.

For many, this particular trope (or genre, if you like) defined 1990s cinema. It spawned some of the most iconic movies of the decade, many of which are still popular today.

History couldn’t be over forever…

The peace that defined the 90s met a brutal, abrupt end with the events of September 11th, 2001. In the same stroke, this particular era in film was over.

People– even those with the cushiest of desk jobs– had new fears, new anxieties to worry about. If the beating heart of the United States wasn’t safe, who was?

The sheer contrast between “Before 9/11” and “After 9/11” in the Western zeitgeist is nothing short of startling. Journalist Hunter S. Thompson summarized this cultural shift in his article “When War Drums Roll,” written just a week after the tragedy:

“The 22 babies born in New York City while the World Trade Center burned will never know what they missed. The last half of the 20th century will seem like a wild party for rich kids, compared to what’s coming now. The party’s over, folks.”

— Hunter S. Thompson

The burgeoning war in Iraq gave American Generation Xers a “great conflict” of their own. Less than a decade later, they would face another: the 2008 financial crisis.

If anything, life was no longer boring.

The turn of the century marked a cultural pivot, one so sharp it made “End of History” cinema fall out of style. Soon, it became functionally extinct.

…Or could it?

Okay, I lied. These films are far from extinct.

As it turns out, the 90s did not have a monopoly on soul-searching. Nor did such stories have to be relegated to upper-class malaise within the corporate sphere.

Again and again, the concept of The End of History has cropped up, particularly during periods of relative tranquility.

Really, history has “ended” countless times. It happened just after WWI, WWII, and, of course, the Cold War. It’s a repeating cycle. The same hopes and dreams resurface every so often just to be dashed by the next great conflict.

But I guess that’s just life.

History: Always ending, never over

Though they were most concentrated in the late 90s, End of History stories have been revisited and rehashed in film for almost a century:

• Lonesome (1928), one of the first movies to feature recorded dialogue, centers on the romance between two alienated workers in New York City.
• Citizen Kane (1941) famously depicts an aimless Newspaper Tycoon whose wealth is never enough to bring him purpose or fulfillment.
• Network (1976) satirizes broadcast television, noting that Americans will watch any content that sufficiently distracts them from their monotonous lives.
• The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (2013) tells the story of a magazine employee who yearns to have adventures of his own.

These films are evidence of a historical maxim– the fact that, for millennia, people have always endured the same struggles, only in different contexts.

Looking back, looking forward

As unhappy as some people in the 90s felt about their own existence, we look back on movies from that period fondly.

Yes, people still hate their jobs. Yes, people still want their lives to have meaning.

The last 25 years of history have given us context to understand a period of history whose inhabitants viewed themselves as separate from history itself. Those who truly believed that history had ended did not know the significance of their own lives.

There is a lesson in this somewhere.

Maybe viewing history as a thing of the past leaves us unable to engage meaningfully with our present. Maybe we need to keep in mind that we are a part of history– that the things we do matter and will echo into the future.

I guess we’ll know once history is over for good.