There was also, of course, a good amount of blood. Before filming, Fincher and the cast had studied tapes featuring the low-budget, frills-free brawls put on by Ultimate Fighting Championship, a company launched in the early nineties. “It was so raw,” Fincher said. “You see someone get hit with the palm of somebody else’s hand, and their nose just moves over like an inch and a half across their face.” Everyone involved with Fight Club’s postproduction had been rushing to meet the film’s scheduled release: July 16, the same date Warner Bros. had reserved for Eyes Wide Shut. One especially difficult shot had taken almost a year to complete: the destruction of the credit card companies’ headquarters, their glittering buildings collapsing in piles of smoke and glass as the narrator watches and wonders where his mind has gone. Fincher’s team of visual effects artists worked frame by frame, creating each shattered window shard, with the director regularly calling in to get updates. “I was always wondering about, if our cell phones were tapped, what the CIA would be thinking,” Fincher said, recalling their conversations. “ ‘Well, building number three is going to go down really easily.’ ”

Home was a condo on the th floor of a filing cabinet for widows and professionals. The walls were solid concrete. A foot of concrete is important when your next-door neighbour has to watch game shows at full volume. Or when a blast of debris that used to be your personal effects blows out of your windows and sails flaming into the night. I suppose these things happen. You weren't alive anywhere like you were there. But Fight Club only exists in the hours between when Fight Club starts and ends. Even if I could tell someone they had a good fight, I wouldn't be talking to the same man. Who you were in Fight Club is not who you were outside of it. A guy came to Fight Club for the first time. His ass was a wad of cookie dough. After a few weeks, he was carved out of wood. Norton read Fight Club in one sitting; like Fincher, it reminded him of The Graduate, albeit updated for the end of the twentieth century. “It took aim right at what a lot of us were starting to feel,” says Norton. “The book was so sardonic and hilarious in observing the vicissitudes of Gen-X/Gen-Y’s nervous anticipation of what the world was becoming— and what we were expected to buy into.” When he first talked to Fincher about Fight Club, Norton says, “I said, ‘You’re going to do this as a comedy, right?’” And he was like, ‘Oh, yeah—that’s the whole point.’ ” Suddenly I realise that all of this, the gun, the bombs, the revolution, has got something to do with a girl named Marla Singer. Bob. Bob had bitch tits. This was a support group for men with testicular cancer. The big moosie slobbering all over me, that was Bob.

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We're a generation of men raised by women. I'm wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.” I don't want to beat around the bush. I've personally watched this movie more than ten times. Super superb. Tyler had been busy... setting up franchises all over the country. Was I asleep? Had I slept? Is Tyler my bad dream, or am I Tyler's?

Some of the greatest movie quotes of all time. It's at the top of my dvd piles and there it should stay. Thanks david fincher. Script correction: when the narrator is imagining his power animal for the second time, and sees Marla, she says "It's a lie," not "slide". This is a mistake in just about every FIGHT CLUB script online, and in viewers' perceptions. So to those of you who say you can recite the script: erase and replace. your memories are false reports. I've used "paint the walls with my brains" as a signature. Incredible movie. Practically necessary to see at least twice for perspective. Has a dry, satiric kind of humor. Expect a mood swing: apathy with a side of enlightenment. No matter how many times you watch this movie, there is always something inspiring to learn from the words of wisdom laced within this masterpiece. My personal favorite ."On a short enough timeline, everyones life expectancy is zero". Great movie, great philosophy, highly recommended. Ziskin gave a copy of Palahniuk’s book to David O. Russell, who declined. “I read it, and I didn’t get it,” Russell says. “I obviously didn’t do a good job reading it.” There was one filmmaker, though, who definitely got Fight Club. He was the perfect match—a guy who viewed the world through the same slightly corroded View-Master as Palahniuk; who could attract desirable actors; who could make all of Fight Club’s bodily fluids splatter beautifully across the screen. And he wasn’t afraid of drawing a little blood himself. Bob had been a champion bodybuilder. You know that chest expansion programme on late-night TV? That was his idea.Every evening I died. And every evening I was born again. Resurrected. Bob loved me because he thought my testicles were removed too. Being there, pressed against his tits, ready to cry. This was my vacation. And she ruined everything. Pitt had already played some peculiar roles, including a cop in Fincher’s deadly-sins-inspired Seven. But it’s like fans glossed over the content of his movies. He had a reputation for being a pretty boy, an empty-headed heartthrob. He was dating Jennifer Anniston, America’s girl next door, and it seemed like his whole life was coming together. TYLER: Listen. You can run water over your hand and make it worse, or -- look at me! -- or you can use vinegar and neutralize the burn. Some societies use Oxford Academic personal accounts to provide access to their members. See below. transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Fight Club. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally

I’ve met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, “Why?” I grew up in a particularly weird place and time,” says David Fincher. He was raised in Marin County in San Francisco in the sixties and seventies, right as the area was being invaded by autonomy-seeking young filmmakers looking to flee Los Angeles. It wasn’t unusual for residents to catch a glimpse of George Lucas—“he was the rich neighbor up the street who’d bought the house and restored it impeccably”—as well as big-studio directors such as Michael Ritchie and Philip Kaufman. “None of the kids in my neighborhood wanted to be doctors or lawyers,” Fincher adds. “They all wanted to be moviemakers.”

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TYLER: Shut up. Our fathers were our models for God. And, if our fathers bailed, what does that tell us about God?

Fincher also felt the glare of some of his peers—though it had less to do with Fight Club’s content and more with its commercial failings. For a while after Fight Club, he says, “People at Morton’s would pat you on the shoulders like you lost a loved one.” Not long after the movie’s release, he was called to a meeting at Creative Artists Agency, which represented him at the time. “The vibe was very much ‘It’s good you’ve experienced this and that you understand we can sway you from making these kinds of life-altering, possibly career-destroying decisions for yourself,’ ” he says. “I just got up and excused myself. And later on, I had a conversation and said, ‘How dare you? I’m really okay with this movie.’ ” Fincher wasn’t about to disappear. And neither was Fight Club.

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The “manosphere” thinks Fight Club is telling us we need to reprogram ourselves. The weird thing is they’re half right, but it’s like they’ve all watched the movie on mute. SHOT OF INSIDE THE ICE CAVE - ON MARLA, LYING NAKED UNDER A FUR COAT, TURNING HER HEAD TO LOOK TOWARDS US. RESUME: