We know Palahniuk is sick. We know David Fincher is mediocre. We know Edward Norton is distorted. We know Brad Pitt is out of the question. Add everything and it will lead you to a cult.
This is one of those movies that yearns for descriptions when, in fact, it is inexplicable. There’s something more here than being a stereotypical white-collar trying to outstand yourself and ending with a dissociative personality and a bullet in your head.
The narrator is in a constant fight with his unaccomplished life, hence the white nights he experiences. He’s even rejected by his own doctor! Everything around him revolves around consumerism. Because he can’t find a way to cope with his insomnia, he attends some support groups only for being able to relieve from his emotions. However, the heroin chic appears and ruins his experiences. The narrator seeks for something else. How about getting into a friendly fight outside a bar?
The concept expands, thus he has his own club. The fight club. The place where men are shooting blood from their noses and then laugh and pat each other on their shoulders. Then it becomes even bigger. The whole country knows it. Then they have to become bigger. A true anti-corporatist association. The evil Big Bang of that spoiled world, filled with materialism and gray suits. The Project Mayhem.
This is very uncomfortable. I can’t explain this without ruining the beauty of discovering its ending. The movie itself is a great mélange of retro-noir techniques, a bit of slumming and trauma, some fascism principles and, of course, the above-mentioned consumerist culture. It’s The Graduate all over again for people in their 30s.
Anyway, at the end, the only thing you’ll be concerned of… What defines your Übermensch?