porn for sexually frustrated boys

Rating: Null/10 (8 September 2001)

Fight Club is the kind of movie that leaves me feeling violated. Violated by another director's show-offy, pointless, violent fantasies. When it was ending, I felt that I was supposed to identify with the characters as they held hands and watched buildings collapse- what? What were they feeling at that particular moment? Happy? I dunno. Whatever, man. Life is just, like, one big Fight Club and it's not cool to be happy. Besides, we all know it would have been harder to make a movie about REAL, BORING life after the building collapses and Marla becomes preggers. But that doesn't include bloody-male-flesh-on-bloody-male-flesh and shaved heads, does it? I give the movie makers credit for artfully creating mood and tone, but demonizing modern office life is too easy. We have no idea where this character is coming from except for the fact that he's a bored and boring guy. If he's so clever, as Pitt calls him, why doesn't he go out and get a life? It's not that hard. All you have to do is be likable. Oops. Dealing with boring jobs is just a fact of life, deal with it. That's why it's called a job, you're supposed to hate it. A perfect example of pretention playing to the cheap seats in a not-so-subtle way. Baby-faced Pitt as a muscle-bound philosopher is completely implausible and ridiculous. Skip this garbage and rent Mary Poppins for a real movie.