Movie Review

Fariha Ishrat Khandaker

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Self-description: apathetic, lack of sleep, and delusions

Hobbies: faking diseases at group therapy, for 'probably' more than just socialization

Acquaintances: control-freak soap salesmen who knows how to punch

WELL if you happen to fill in the criteria above, I say, welcome to the 'Fight Club'.

Fight Club is one of the greatest movies to have the nerve to actually push beyond the envelope of sheer schizophrenic insomnia and create an alter ego that is not only smarter than the original apathetic 'ego', but as most women would agree, also hotter.

Nonetheless, when the narrator (Edward Norton), meets the slippery soap salesman, Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt), a well synchronized series of unfortunate events lead him to join Tyler in the creation of what soon becomes the biggest underground testosterone joy-ride of a mad-hatter's tea club.

Under Tyler's leadership, the 'fight club' becomes "Project Mayhem", which devotes to a series of anti-capitalist vandalism in the city. Honestly, terror never looked more appealing, and Karl Marx and Franz Fanon could have never been more upset about being born in their 'much-understated' eras.

The film is not only well crafted at the art of special effects, but the story plot really blows a hole in your imagination, especially if you thought you knew what was coming. Given, after all, it is one of the finest works of director, David Fincher; the man who is also responsible for Se7en, and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. The Pitt obsessed director manages to portray immaculately how two varyingly edgy characters conspire and conflict like a ticking time-bomb to keep the audience entirely consumed in the story, wishing they could be the one throwing the punches.