:Brad Pitt .... Tyler Durden
Edward Norton .... Narrator, Jack
Helena Bonham Carter .... Marla Singer Meat Loaf .... Robert Paulson
Jared Leto .... Angel Face
Directed by .... David Fincher
Fight Club
by Ed Owens
David Fincher seems to have a problem with endings. Alien
3, at least what was left of it by the time it got to the ending,
fizzled in a horribly contrived and blatantly manipulative narrative move
that destroyed what credibility hadn't already been wasted; The
Game was just that until the final scenes, when the viewer realized
"the game" was the cinematic equivalent of 52 Pick- Up.
Forget the trailer. Forget the plot synopses of other
reviews. Fight Club is unlike anything you would expect
based on those materials. Edward Norton plays the nameless narrator, from
whose perspective the movie unfolds. He is a corporate drone who initially
finds comfort and solace in support groups. Fincher plays this first act
for everything it's worth, attacking everything and anything with the
same spirit as Trainspotting's opening monologue. The style
is all Fincher's, a film editor's nightmare that blends the best theories
of montage with extreme cinematography in order to simultaneously seat
and unseat the viewer in the narrator's world. We feel safe because we
identify, yet we are uncomfortable because it is perhaps a little too
close. Then, in walks Tyler Durden.
At this point the film takes a malicious turn, maintaining
the high energy and dark humor of the first act, but upping the ante on
our involvement. It is almost as if Fincher is daring us to continue,
pushing to see how long we will continue to invest in the narrative in
spite of our personal prejudices. It is at this point that you either
give yourself over to the film or give up. Love it or hate it, the film
is an extraordinary accomplishment, one that moves so subtly from normalcy
to absurdity that you almost don't notice.
Be warned...the film is violent. Yet, the film never glorifies
the violence it portrays (in fact, I didnt find it to be all that
violent, given the buildup), nor does it ever compromise on the director's
(and author's, from what Ive been told) vision. Fight Club
is tight in nearly every way...except the ending, which relies on a series
of events so patently absurd, you almost don't even want to bother expressing
disapproval. For me, it is the rest of the film that remains. It is like
the combatants in Fight Club itself: bruised and bloody,
but still standing..
Only
Seven breaks the tradition, providing a denouement that
is not only viable and inevitable, but one that surpasses all that has
gone before it. In an industry where the last 15 minutes is what most
people will remember, ending badly is a sure road to early retirement.
Fight Club, Fincher's latest nihilistic take on society
at large, suffers the same Achilles heel as his earlier works. The end
stretches the suspension of disbelief to the breaking point, leaving the
viewer with little to cling to. But unlike The Game, Fight
Club survives, even if it is a little worse for wear.
The
performances are first rate all the way around. Ed Norton strikes just
the right tone as the nameless narrator, droning in a voice that falls
somewhere between awake and asleep. Pitt does some of his best work, though
some will deride his performance as more of his 12 Monkeys
lunatic bit. Pitt has the difficult task of making madnees seem rational,
and he does it well, keeping his character just this side of the insanity
going on all around him. Perhaps the hardest role has to belong to Helena
Bonham Carter. As the only woman in the film (note that I didn't say the
only major woman in the film, I literally mean the only woman in the film),
Helena has a lot to carry, especially given some of the more misogynist
tones of the film's subtext. But Helena stands beautifully, a testament
to her talent as an actress.