Ideology and Movement in David Fincher s Fight Club 1999

Film Analysis of Fight Club

David Fincher’s 1999 cult classic film Fight Club was polarizing when released at the end of the 20th century: it hit audiences hard, shocking some and enthralling others. It divided critics as well; however, looking back on the film and analyzing from it various aspects, such photography, editing, story, ideology, drama, and more, one can see with a clearer critical lens that the film works from start to finish as a unified piece of art that is totally aware of what it is doing and why it is doing it. Fight Club was a film made to offend and it succeeds because it topples the sacred cows of society and sets ablaze the prairie upon which they grazed (even the Übermensch bad-boy boy-toy Brad Pitt gets discarded by the end of the film—a rug pull for every adolescent male idolizing the anarchic bravado of Pitt’s Tyler Durden). The film is meant to be experienced so that the viewer can feel catharsis—a purification of the emotions—a much needed thing due to the fact that, at least in Fincher’s eyes, the average human being is going through the same depressing existence that the nameless hero of the film (“Jack” played Edward Norton) is going through when the film opens up. To understand all this, however, it is necessary to understand how the film works to pull it off. And to understand that, it is necessary to take it point by point.

The first thing to know is that Fight Club is a critique of consumerism; no one really debates this point, although many critics and scholars argue about the extent to which the film is successful in its attacks on the consumerist culture of the US (Giroux; Liktor; Robinson; Ta). So how does the film demonstrate this critique? There are numerous examples in terms of writing and plot—from the nameless narrator’s early comical obsession with IKEA to the antics of the members of Project Mayhem who are given assignments to smash corporate works of art—but there are also examples in the film’s look, which is grungy, dingy, and lit so as to revel in grimy browns and shadows: as if to say, “You don’t need all that nice stuff in order to be happy!” That is essentially the message Tyler Durden conveys to the hapless hero upon their first night out: “We buy things we don’t need with money we don’t have to impress people we don\\\\\\\'t like” (Fincher). Tyler later tells “Jack” to “let go” of all those attachments and become free from the chain of materialism. That is why at one of the fight club meetings, Tyler declares, “Our great war’s a spiritual war.” Tyler wants “Jack” and the other men to transcend the materialism that has defined their existence up to that point. To do that, they have to reject the nice, comfortable world they inhabit (Ta). “Jack” (unwittingly) blows up his condo (so that his alter-ego Tyler can more fully emerge to guide him out of his spiritual malaise). All of this is in the writing and the plot, which culminates with the fight club members blowing up the credit card companies’ skyscrapers in a symbolic gesture of overthrowing the corporate structure.

Plot and writing are reinforced by the way the film is shot: the film’s photography is used to create a grim and unsettling atmosphere that mirrors the inner turmoil of the protagonist. The house where Tyler takes “Jack” to live is a decrepit old Victorian home on an abandoned lot at the edge of an industrial wasteland. They get the fight club going in the basement of a dingy bar. Night scenes fill the film. The use of desaturated colors and low-key lighting highlights the dystopian reality just below the surface of the “perfect” consumerist society. The photography reinforces the main themes of the film, making the audience feel as if they are part of this world where the protagonist is going through a series of break-throughs: first, disillusionment; second, acceptance; third, awakening. The visual language of the film sets the tone for the narrative and underlines the film\\\\\\\'s critical stance towards modern society (Ta).

But that’s not all. In terms of mise en scene, the settings, costumes, and props all work together to tell the story. The grimy, urban environment reflects the discontentment of its inhabitants. The props, such as IKEA furniture, symbolize the protagonist\\\\\\\'s dissatisfaction with consumer culture, whereas the contrast between the nondescript wardrobe of the protagonist and Tyler Durden\\\\\\\'s eccentric style accentuates their differing ideologies. Tyler’s clothing is always eye-popping and different from what everyone around him is wearing: his hair is spikey, his shades are big and bold, his clothing has flair, and everything about his attire articulates his rebellious nature. “Jack” on the other hand looks like a typical white collar worker.

Movement in Fight Club is also used to amplify the narrative and the characters\\\\\\\' emotional journeys. One of the most notable examples of movement is found in the film\\\\\\\'s opening credits scene. The viewer finds himself inside the protagonist\\\\\\\'s brain, navigating the neural pathways, then pulling back through his fear center and continuing to retreat through the barrel of a gun placed in his mouth. This sequence is both a visceral, technical marvel (that plays fantastically thanks to the accompanying film score by the Dust Brothers) and a thematic introduction (that hints of the psychological nature of the narrative that is about to unfold). The camera movement, in combination with CGI, signifies the intricate connection between the physical and the psychological, suggesting that the journey the viewer is about to go on is one that ultimately has its roots in the disturbed mind of the protagonist.

This same kind of camera movement is used later in the film as well—first, when “Jack” is guiding the viewer through his apartment furnished with items from the IKEA catalogue; again, when “Jack” is describing the way that corporations name everything and may end up naming the solar system after themselves as the camera pulls back from within a wastebin full of Starbucks cups and other corporate items; and, again, when “Jack” is describing how his apartment exploded and the camera takes the viewer inside the pilot light of the stove to show exactly how it might have happened. CGI is used to show a plane ripping apart in an imagined mid-air collision, and movement is also a big part of the plot, as “Jack” comes to grips with his alter ego Tyler. The film plays like mystery—beginning with “Jack’s” strange meeting of Tyler on the plane, to the strange explosion of his condo soon after, to the strange quirks of Tyler, to the sudden start of fight club, at which point the action tilts heavily towards a plot to overthrow the social system in place. “Jack” realizes he has to move—literally—to stop something terrible from happening; the end of the film sees him running down the street in a trench coat with no pants on, a gun in his hand, and plans for Project Mayhem in the other. He runs all the way to one of the towers where Tyler and the others have rigged vans of explosives. He and Tyler then fight it out in a comical climax: the viewer sees the fight from “Jack’s” eyes and from the real world “eyes” of security cameras (which, of course, show “Jack” fighting only himself). The film’s techno score keeps pace with the movement of the camera throughout and helps the viewer process information at appropriate speeds. Overall, movement creates a visceral experience for the audience, making the violence feel raw and intense, the story feel hip and exciting, and the acting feel incredible. It helps provide that ultimate cathartic experience that cleanses any viewer who allows himself to get caught up in the film’s action.

The film\\\\\\\'s editing is just as important to the overall storytelling. The non-linear narrative structure, the use of flashbacks, and the fast-paced montages all contribute to a sense of disorientation, mirroring the protagonist\\\\\\\'s fragmented psyche. For instance, the film opens in medias res, with “Jack” held at gunpoint by Tyler atop a building rigged with explosives. After a few words of introduction, however, the film flashes back to show how “Jack” arrived at this point. This non-linear narrative structure creates a sense of disorientation and suspense, as the viewer is left to piece together the events leading up to this moment.

Other types of editing are also big in the film, though. For example, the subliminal editing, in which Tyler Durden appears before he is introduced, also suggests the protagonist\\\\\\\'s deteriorating mental state (this of course is only evident upon re-watch). These single-frame inserts, almost imperceptible on a conscious level, create a sense of unease and anticipation in the viewer. They are also done for comic effect—like at the end of the film when Fincher uses an insert as a throwaway gag reference to one of Tyler’s preoccupations when running a film booth in a theater. This kind of gag ruffled the feathers of some critics who saw it as cynical, immature, misogynistic, and macho—but it plays well thematically with the overall drift of the film and scores because the film belongs as much to Tyler as it does to “Jack” (Liktor; Robinson; Ta).

Another significant instance of editing is the scene where “Jack” describes his addiction to support groups. Here, the film uses a rapid montage of different groups, showcasing the protagonist\\\\\\\'s fraudulent participation. This fast-paced editing reflects his chaotic state of mind and his desperate search for emotional release. The same fast-paced editing occurs when “Jack” is describing his insomnia: the scenes flicker rapidly from his office to his apartment to various locations, effectively conveying his disoriented sense of time and space. And, again, this editing trick is used as “Jack” tries to figure out how fight club is spreading across the US so rapidly—and why everyone now calls him Tyler Durden.

The \\\\\\\"chemical burn\\\\\\\" scene is another example of the film\\\\\\\'s frenetic editing. As Tyler Durden applies lye to the Narrator\\\\\\\'s hand, the film cuts to an insert shot of a molecular diagram of a chemical burn. The diagram, coupled with Tyler\\\\\\\'s explanation, gives the viewer a microscopic understanding of what\\\\\\\'s happening, amplifying the intensity of the scene.

None of this editing would work without the great sound effects and score in the film. Chemical burns pop and sizzle, bones crack, faces are pulverized—and the viewer hears it all. Indeed, sound in Fight Club works hand in hand with the visuals to create the amazing immersive experience. The Dust Brothers\\\\\\\' score also fuels the film\\\\\\\'s energetic plot and pace, while the hyper-real sound effects in fight scenes reinforce its brutality.

The acting performances by Norton, Brad Pitt, and Helena Bonham Carter are also crucial to the way the film pulls it all off. Their performances bring to life the film\\\\\\\'s exploration of identity, masculinity, and love; and each actor gives believability and credibility to the role. This is in part made possible thanks to the great script by Jim Uhls, based on the great book by Chuck Palahniuk. A lot of the source material ends up in the film and it all makes for a convincing exploration of a mental and social breakdown at the end of the 1990s when frenetic vibes were still very much a part of the culture.

The drama, the story, and the writing all help string everything together—and there are so many great lines that reinforce the acerbic and satirical tone of the film: on the subject of father abandonment (a central critique of the film), Tyler says, “We’re a generation of men raised by women. I don’t think another woman in our lives is what we need” (Fincher). This frustration that “Jack” feels compels him to want to figure out what it means to be a real man. Since he’s never had a real man in his life—no real father figure—he has to invent Tyler (his alter ego) to guide him through it. Tyler is like Dante’s Virgil in this sense. But instead of going through Hell and Purgatory to get to Heaven, “Jack” goes through a hyper-rebellion that culminates with huge devastation and a takedown of the system that helped turn men into materialistic consumers in the first place. In this sense, “Jack” arrives, if not at Heaven, then at least at the gates of a new future in which a kind of redemption seems now possible. In terms of ideology, the writing distills the essence of the film with this line: \\\\\\\"You are not your job, you\\\\\\\'re not how much money you have in the bank. You are not the car you drive. You\\\\\\\'re not the contents of your wallet. You are not your khakis” (Fincher). What the film says is that there is more to being a human than simply collecting things. The complaint of the film is that it is not easy for this generation (Generation X at the time) to realize what to do about it: “We\\\\\\\'re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives,” Tyler complains (Fincher). However, because it is somewhat in the viewer’s face about its ideology, the film rubbed some the wrong way. Some thought it empty and bombastic; others approved of its critique of the system; others accepted the criticism but disapproved of the morality and message of the film (Ebert).

For instance, Roger Ebert expressed discomfort with the visceral violence and what was interpreted as the film\\\\\\\'s glorification of machismo and anarchic behavior. Ebert noted that while the film was undeniably well-made and intriguing, the message it conveyed was potentially harmful and ultimately one that only adolescents would find meaningful (Ebert). Similarly, some critics found the film\\\\\\\'s social commentary to be cynical and overly pessimistic, interpreting the destruction caused by Fight Club and Project Mayhem as a dangerous endorsement of chaos and anarchism (Robinson).