“This is your life and it’s ending one minute at a time.”
Ten YEARS later…
Has it really been ten years since Edward Norton trembled with the taste of gun metal in his mouth? It’s been a decade since Brad Pitt wore leather and fur and taught us what it meant to be a man? I won’t deny it, when I saw this darkly appealing film in 1999 I felt like David Fincher and Chuck Palniuk had hit me as hard as they could… and I liked it.
From the scathing critique of group therapy sessions, to the masculine renewal of fighting, to the logical extension of will-to-power, Fight Club’s story and panache punched its way to cult status and even a critical turnaround to earn itself an 81% on Rotten Tomatoes and onto several critical lists as one of the greatest movies of all time. Perhaps the only significant holdout reviewer is Ebert, who gave Fincher’s film 1.5 stars back in 1999. (NOTE: the same year, Roger Ebert gave 3.5 stars to The Phantom Menace – anyone feel like they just got hit in the ear?)
I thought it was worthwhile to break the first rule and talk about Fight Club once again, since my wife and I recently inducted a new member into the club and she thoughtfully muses on the film, and the novel that inspired it, in her blog post “I am Jack’s Random Thoughts“. In addition, the nomenclature has even permeated Christendom, as a friend of mine is speaking at the Fight Club ’09 Men’s Training Day in Atlanta this August. The influence of this film lives on, like little Marla Singer… the little scratch on the roof of your mouth that would heal if only you could stop tonguing it, but you can’t.