Discontent with his white-collar job, an unnamed narrator forms a underground ‘fight club’ with Tyler Durden, a soap salesman. He subsequently becomes entangled in a dangerous relationship with Marla Singer. Based on the darkly satirical 1996 novel of the same name by Chuck Palahniuk.
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Whilst it lacks the allegorical potency of Ellis' 'American Psycho', this Palahniuk adaptation captures the jaded ennui of 'the postmodern condition' with hyper-real simulations of dysfunctional masculine identity. Fincher's depiction of Tyler Durden; the idealised alter-ego and schizophrenic actualisation of the Narrator's inferiority complex (a ripped, 'rebel without a cause' Brad Pitt), still deserves acclaim.
This is unfortunately what it is to be a man. You can hate it, you can deny it, but there it is. Spelled out in black and white. It's wrong, don't get me wrong, but it is who we are. Who we are vs who we want to be.
"Fight Club" is genetically different and visually intelligent, but I was so convinced I'd love it because so many called it "a movie that will change your perception on movies." It didn't, but it did give me one of the most eventful, intriguing, and intellectual movie experiences I've ever seen.
Irony and wit loaded on a direct punch to your pitiful jack-brain. An indisputable member of the new classics. I deeply dislike digital effects, nevertheless the story is so attractively subversive that I yield to it.