“You cannot be told what Fight Club is; you have to see it for yourself. But only if you think you’re hard enough.”
Fight Club, directed by David Fincher already had an established fan-base before it hit theatres in 1999 due to the cult novel it was adapted from by Chuck Palahniuk. It is very clear from Fincher’s previous work such as Seven (1995), that he has a talented knack for capturing the murkier side of life. He is one of the most alluring visual stylists in cinema who has a very shadowy vision of human nature. These visualizations are portrayed through his narratives which are usually violent and very distinctive; mostly dark, stylish thrillers where every single frame has been calculated to push us closer to the edge as the films progress. Fincher has shown this very effectively in Fight Club, as this movie is no less dark or disturbing than his other work.
Edward Norton gives the performance of his career, playing the narrator; there is an on-going debate about whether his name is Jack (the name he refers to during the movie), or Joe (the name he refers to in the book), or whether neither of these are really his name…so we’ll stick with calling him the narrator for now. The narrator is a 30-year-old single, nerdy, insomniac, with a highly unsatisfactory white-collar job, which he gets nothing from. He starts searching for some form of emotion in his soulless world by attending support groups for illnesses, such as testicular cancer. Before long, this becomes a weighty addiction. Finding comfort in these sessions, the narrator comes across a trampy but sexy, sceptical, free spirit junkie, Marla, played by the forever-amazing Helena Bonham-Carter. Doing what she does best; Carter is playing her fearless yet dark roles, which are also later shown in the very successful Harry Potter series and Burton’s Sweeny Todd (2007). As Marla invades more and more of his gatherings, the narrator is feeling uncomfortable and is in need of a change.
His stimulus and motivation arrives with Tyler Durden. Once again in Fincher’s hands, Brad Pitt is at the top of his game and at the heart of this black comic picture, not afraid of getting his pretty little face dirty. As Fincher throws us more twists and turns on his narrative rollercoaster ride, the narrator’s apartment explodes and he has nobody else to call upon but Durden. So they share a beer and indulge in a bizarre fist-up in a car park. Although he is black and blue, the narrator has never felt so alive and before we know it, they have routed their aggression into a shocking form of therapy; beating each other up. This initiates pain not only for each other, but for the viewer also, causing our stomachs and guts to turn and flip; however we simply cannot look away.
There is an amazing choice of actors who all ensemble together creating worthy and very plausible chemistry on screen. Pitt has highly dangerous yet completely fearless behaviour, presented in the shocking chemical hand-burn scene. He plays his role with such intensity but is also very comical. Norton demonstrates his talent, giving a very unique performance, which cannot be as easy as he makes it look. Bonham-Carter plays the femme fatal manic-depressive character, although somehow still portrays her mysterious and sexy side very successfully.
Every aspect of this amazingly directed and performed movie has been worked at until perfect, comparable with all of Fincher’s work, from the music, cinematography, screenplay, lighting and pace. Fight Club is one of the few films that I can bear to watch more than once or twice. However, since watching this adrenaline rush of a movie, I have watched it maybe 6 or 7 times at the very least. It is a film that you can watch over and over again without getting bored, but still finds new things to love and enjoy every single time you see it. It’s a film you can continuously laugh and cringe at. You can attempt to close your eyes at the extreme violence but continuously fail at doing, wanting to witness more of this incredible picture. 'Mischief. Mayhem. Soap'