Would've worked better as a 4-minute music video.

Rating: 5/10 (24 December 1999)

**minor spoilers**
Sure, the film is visually spectacular, as all Fincher pieces are. The picture is slick, you've got a couple 21st century icons in Norton and Pitt, a palatable attempt at nihilistic pseudo-social commentary, and the occasional moment of brilliance (ie, "Slide!"). Oh yes, and the gratuitous violence.
I enjoyed the first act. All the elements were there; Pitt is excellent, and Norton is steady. Bonham-Carter gives her least annoying performance ever. The film is fast-paced, and has its share of innovation. The messages that it alludes to are more-or-less subtle. So far, so good.
Then comes Project Mayhem. Something about soldiers or what-not. Anarchy disguised as a cause. An excuse for the audience to enjoy more blatant violence on the screen. The movie completely loses its direction the moment Fight Club tries to be more than it is-- both the organization in question, and the film itself. From here on in, we have to endure Pitt's character's constant, irrelevant, and usually flawed, babble. Example: the convenience store "hold-up", and chemical burn scenes. And don't forget the deeply insightful line, "Self-improvement is masturbation".
The message of anti-consumerism was already established early on in the film by Norton's character; it was unnecessary for Pitt to ram it down our throats for the rest of the movie. The radical post-capitalism, year-zero philosophy is also nothing new. Anyone socially and politically aware in the 70's and 80's are familiar with the Cambodian Khmyr-Rouge vision. This is pretty much irrelevant, though, since Fincher is catering to the teenage North American male. I suspect that most of the rave reviews for The Fight Club are from this demographic. Who else would buy into the forlorn suburban working-class white male rage bit so easily? Yes, folks. Your angst will disappear by kicking the hell out of each other.
To cap off this deeply flawed movie is another Keyser Soze ending. As unconvincing as its like in Sixth Sense, it seemed more like an effort to get people back in the theatres a second time than a well-thought, intrinsic element of the plot.
The Fight Club might have succeeded if it dealt away with its temptation to say something important, and stuck to a collage of pretty shots of men wailing at each other, talking penguins, and Norton covered in human fat. Four minutes would've sufficed.