Fight Club Review

by Jamey Hughton (bhughton AT sk DOT sympatico DOT ca)
October 26th, 1999

FIGHT CLUB
**** (out of five stars)
A review by Jamey Hughton

Starring-Brad Pitt, Edward Norton,
Helena Bonham Carter and Meat Loaf Aday
Director-David Fincher
Rated 18A
Released October 1999
20th Century Fox

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“Fight Club” is the kind of breathless experience that chews you up, spits you out, and leaves your senses jaded and disorientated with exhilaration. It’s a sublimely bizarre, starkly hilarious tale of an underworld group of men who beat each other to a bloody pulp. But that’s certainly not the limit that director David Fincher and screenwriter Jim Uhls have propelled the film to. The trailer would have you believe it’s merely a dark, disturbing guy movie. Really, “Fight Club” tackles so much more.

Fincher’s astounding ascent begins right off the bat, when he takes us through the barrel of a gun during the opening credits. The director has showed incredible visual style in each of his previous efforts, including his most recent, the labyrinthine puzzle thriller “The Game”. Fincher has a knack for establishing mood and atmosphere, and in “Fight Club”, he breaks any and all barriers that could have previously confined him. This is one wild and crazy ride; an adrenaline rush with maniacal camera work that zips ferociously through the contents of a trash basket, an apartment complex, and various other household appliances.

This is the story of the socially-challenged Jack (Edward Norton), a 30-year old man suffocated by his job and badly suffering from a serious bout of insomnia. Attending a self-help group for testicular cancer, Jack is heartened at the fact that people feel sorry for him. He begins appearing at these self-help groups on a frequent basis, until he spots another “tourist”: the ragged, chain-smoking drug kitten Marla (Helena Bonham Carter). It just doesn’t work any more for Jack. That is, until he meets the glorified soap salesman Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt) on a plane trip, and new possibilities are opened in his mind.

“Fight Club” is Jim Uhls’ adaptation of Chuck Palahniuk’s acclaimed novel of the same name. For the majority of it’s lengthy 2 hour, 20 minute running time, Uhl’s script has a delightful screw loose - one that keeps the audience on edge as it twists and turns in several unexpected directions. There are many details explored before Uhls introduces the movie’s central premise. During these moments, Tyler introduces Jack to his method of personal liberation: old fashioned hand-to-hand combat. After a while, this “fight club” begins to catch on, and several new members are awaiting their turn to join in the no-holds-barred face pummeling. There are only 8 simple rules. The first rule: “You do not talk about fight club.” The second: “You DO NOT talk about fight club.” Any questions so far?

At around the two-hour mark, just as “Fight Club” appears to have exhausted every capably fresh idea in it’s deranged little head, a creative little plot twist comes into play. Is this twist at all logical in any way? Certainly not. It’s goofy but moderately resourceful, adding fuel to a tired formula and ensuring enough palpable steam for an appropriate finale. Some may compare this to the mind-bender of a climax in “The Sixth Sense”, but I beg to differ. Unlike that previous late-summer smash, I was able to predict the unexpected “surprise” in this entry (or at least detect a sign that things were not as they seemed). Still, it’s an interesting and strategic contortion of the plot, and I admired the elaborate complexities of it all.

Around Oscar time next year, expect a nomination handed out to at least one member of the lead ensemble in “Fight Club”. I vote for Norton, who displays the perfect regulated amount of emotions, causing the narrator Jack to aggressively appear as just a regular, average joe. But the memorable centerpiece of the film is easily the offbeat, energized character of Tyler Durden. Make a note: Brad Pitt has now shed his pretty-boy image indefinitely, or, at least until he appears as a typical pin-up hunk in his next film. Bonham Carter approaches the dazed role of Marla with expertise, and there is also a modest supporting turn from none other than Meat Loaf (who is credited as “Meat Loaf Aday”). The Loaf plays an overly obese man with gigantic breasts. Just thought you’d like to know.

There is a graphic amount of violence in “Fight Club”, but none seems entirely inappropriate due to the nature of the subject matter. Fincher corners the audience with darkly disturbing material, and the reaction is - laughter? Yes indeed, and a healthy bit of it; the highlights include a scene where Tyler and Jack smuggle several bags of human fat from a liposuction clinic, with the intended purpose of using it as a secret ingredient in the soap. If you think that sounds disgusting, wait until you experience it in all it’s fatty glory. Right from square one, “Fight Club” is startling and darkly hilarious.

Of course, there is “inner meaning” hidden behind all the bloody hi-jinks. For instance, why condemn yourself in the ugly barracks of an average, everyday existence? Live freely, Tyler cautions. Few of these moral messages successfully got through to me. But “Fight Club” delivers a delectable helping of visual brilliance, original storytelling and exhilarating action. This alone provides a prominent reason to see it. So do it, before I get angry.

(C) 1999, Jamey Hughton

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