Confession: I was about to see Music of the Heart. Not because
I really wanted to see it, but because I felt like seeing a movie
and what the hell, Wes Craven directed it, I thought the novelty
would be interesting. Besides, all of the other, more interesting
efforts had aspects that seemed either depressing or upsetting,
and I just wasn't sure in the mood.
So I'm standing in line, all set to buy a ticket and all of a
sudden I think, "Kee-rist. You're going to see yet another
movie on The Great Inspired Teacher because it's not too much
effort and won't bother you too much? You are, perhaps, getting
OLD???"
Fuck THAT shit.
Right then and there, I decided to see the movie that I was
least likely to ever want to see. Can't let these moods take
control.
And that's how I saw Fight Club.
It is actually very good. Flawed, and the final third goes off
in exactly the wrong direction. Ignore the psychological
underpinnings, which start off touching the right nerve, and then
take it too far. It is also 30 minutes longer than it should be.
But it is mordantly funny and has got the visual goods--particularly,
again, in the first hour. The narrative and the dialog is
sardonic, incisive, and enormous fun--many a plot hole hides beneath its appealing cover.
The performances are all excellent and
natural--Pitt is surprisingly good, in what I think is his best
work ever. Norton is a man who I can't take my eyes from, ever,
and he didn't disappoint. And if you're sitting in the theater
thinking, my god, the man with the tits can't be
<i>Meatloaf</i>, can it? Yes, it can.
Add in Pitt's psychadelic wardrobe and the talking penguin and
really, what's not to like? Enjoy, and promise me you won't think too hard.
