Fight Club

Fight Club ★★★★½

You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. you’re the same decaying organic matter as everything else.

The futile, rebellious nature of this film is just so idiosyncratic and the psychological blur between reality/fantasy relies on substantial mind game narratives. The mirror image it projects on the audience that we are worthless in our puny lives compared to the dreams of what we wanted to be. How society moves us on the same wood chipper line, mulching away our younger ambitions of pursuing the life we wanted but settling less for the life we chose. Wanting to be the rockstars, movie stars of the world...but only in our head as we work our regular 9 to 5 jobs, get married, have kids, pay off mortgages, grow old, die and rot away. Like our life never existed, just a speck in the wind. Never to return. We believe to be socially accepted we have to become this version of ourselves, that we’re talented and well loved. But the truth is you have to love yourself or you’ll never accept anything. You’ll become a machine to you’re inner infringement and you’ll be Jack’s wasted life

The aggressive motor on this machine is revving on all 8 cyclinders, 20 years later and it still has mileage provided by two god performances from Norton and Pitt. This gem shines bright in the tough stinking sulfur it was molded by. It’s eccentric pacing and witty dialogue drenches the film in corroded filth on the dark mind. Such pessimistic, depression, anxiety makes it one of a kind self-aware of the human condition.

Fincher’s choice to double down on the grime for the editing just bursts the atmosphere with a gritty world  that looks so unsanitary but so darkly artistic it’s hard to look away. Saturated with broken bones, bloody noses roaring up my ally. Such rage and uncertainty pulled me to this film long ago and viewing it again is a more opened experience as we all wish we was Tyler Durden

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