'Club' hits audience with one -two punch

The first rule about "Fight Club" is that it's almost a great movie.

Only almost a great movie, because sandwiched in between two stellar acts is a painfully flat segment of riotous proportions. It makes you want to answer "David Fincher" when asked who you would fight, living or dead (other answers include "Shatner" and "Gandhi" - I would have picked Richard Simmons).

But, oh, those bookends. Galvanizingly energetic, belligerent to the extreme in attacking society as embodied by that bastion of MTV series furnishings, Ikea, Narrator's (Edward Norton) deliciously matter-of-fact voiceovers guide us through a world he begins to see through the eyes of his new pal, Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt).

Courtesy of 20th Century Fox Brad Pitt and Edward Norton get bloody in David Fincher's "Fight Club."

Tyler himself is a Virgil to Narrator's bewildered Dante, taking the mild-mannered, white-collar Narrator and bringing him into a world of mayhem. Tyler appears early on as singular frames on the screen. And then he springs forth full-grown from Narrator's tale, sitting next to insomniac Narrator on an airplane, playfully jibing, "Do I give you the ass or the crotch?" when he gets up to leave.

After he moves in with Tyler, ass or crotch is the paradox that Narrator finds himself faced with as he is sucked deeper into a life of crime and punishment. Does Narrator say no, demand that Tyler return to his day job pissing in the soup at a hotel? Or does he give in and "hit bottom?" Neither are particularly pretty prospects, but one is a lot more fun to play with than the other. Narrator makes a decision, and the line between reality and fantasy, between who is in charge and who is making the choices, grows progressively more blurry.

But there's more to "Fight Club" than the homoerotic dance of violence enacted by the men of fight club sweating under the dingy lights of a dank basement. There is an entire ideology of organized chaos at work. Tyler and Narrator create an army of angry men, plotting to use them to tear down the very structures that our society relies on for order.

This destruction is a fantastic concept. Unfortunately, there is a huge chunk of story devoted to the creation of a military machine that has no hierarchal command. We see Tyler turn the house into a barracks for his army. We see the men of fight club made into nameless, chorusing "space monkeys." We see and wish the film would regain its original intensity and build to something amazing. Ultimately, it does.

In the midst of all these men Narrator meets Marla (Helena Bonham Carter) at an illness support group that he uses as a sedative against insomnia. He recognizes her as a fellow imposter. Soon enough, Marla phones him. Tyler answers. Four used condoms later, Narrator's hatred and jealousy for Marla takes irrevocable root. The sounds of vigorous fucking shake the very foundation of the house, but he does nothing to stop them. Again, Narrator is powerless - maybe he can't do anything to stop them. Can't. Not won't.

Norton establishes himself for the umpteenth time as this generation's foremost performer. Bonham Carter affects a pitch-perfect American accent and grimly passionate demeanor, while Pitt does what he does best.

Fincher proves again that he's a visual filmmaker of infinite proportions and singular vision. Like "The Game," "Fight Club" features a protagonist trapped in a world that spins out of control until at the final moment he finds a place to grab onto.

And like Fincher's other films, "Fight Club"'s middle slackness doesn't matter all that much. It's easy to simply absorb the frames of the film rather than be concerned with the plot. Fincher's inspired eye creates vistas of dark mechanization, of lightning fast, fluid camera movement and inventiveness such as the single-frame Tyler.

"Fight Club" presents a world inside our own. Not everyone is going to want to visit that place. But to give yourself over to the giddy delight of losing all hope - of gaining freedom from the daily grind, from the droning boss, from the regularly scheduled doses of societal bullshit - is an achievement. It's one that Tyler aids Jack in finding. The world needs a Tyler Durden every now and again. The question is, what do we do when we've got him?

10-15-99