Paging Susan Faludi! Director Fincher (Seven) has a knack for visual flair, but in this twisted tale of disgruntled malehood, he takes his work to a new and utterly hyperkinetic level. Norton plays a yuppie malcontent with a bad case of insomnia. He drifts through support groups until befriending a mercurial soap salesman (Pitt) on a plane ride.
Pitt also moonlights as a projectionist and waiter, but that's more to pull pranks than out of economic necessity. The two start an underground, bare-knuckles fight club; cohabit a rundown Victorian house in a toxic waste zone; and form a covert army to bring down corporate America. Sound hyperbolic? It is, but that's both the film's beauty and its weakness. The drama is never dull, the acting is on the mark--especially Bonham Carter and Meat Loaf in juicy supporting roles--but what puts the fight in this film is Fincher's visual wizardry.
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