Fight Club

I’ve waited to write a review of “Fight Club” for weeks. Occasionally I discuss reviews I’m planning with friends. When I mentioned “Fight Club” I got reactions similar to what you’d expect if I was putting Godfather Part 2 in the guilloutine. As a matter of fact, a certain individual (who shall remain nameless) accused me of such.

Let me state it for the record: I wanted to like this movie.

I rented “Fight Club” on DVD ready to dub it the next “Pulp Fiction.” The bottom line is “Fight Club” is an overblown piece of shit that would have been even worse had it not been for Ed Norton deflecting the third rate acting of Brad “watch me play myself” Pitt. (Think I’m too hard on ol’ Brad ladies…put him and Tom Cruise in a movie together….BOMB!!!)

Hardly a movie produced hasn’t required the ubiquitious “suspension of belief.” “Fight Club” requires that you fold it up, stuff it up your ass, and secure it with a soiled pair of Depends for a few hours…and at the end, the producer of the flick makes you pull off the geriatric diaper and lick up the excrement.

Essentially you’re forced to believe after MASSIVE amounts of character development that the character played…er…poorly emulated by Brad Pitt, never existed. Whaaa??

Now don’t give me that “Sixth Sense” shit. Bruce Willis was shot forchristsake. Did you chronic masturbators miss that part? Did you also miss the fact that he spoke to ABSOLUTELY NO ONE but that mongoloid kid? A simple fact that I realized fully ten minutes into the movie!

Pulling Brad Pitt’s character out of the movie and blaming it on whatshisface’s psychosis is not “silly” or “whacky” it’s a goddamned crime against movie making. I’m supposed to believe that someone who was a neat freak and owned IKEA furniture could suddenly move into a condemned house with a whacko soap dealer (huh?) who dresses like a white Huggy Bear? Oh yeah…and to top it all off, Huggy Bear doesn’t exist. Mr. Insurance Dork has been kicking his own ass, blowing up his own apartment and assembling the blue collar masses into clubs that beat the crap out of each other. Hey asswipe, if you wanna cast off society’s rules, move to Montana and build a “Luddite by The Numbers Cabin.”

At least with “Pulp Fiction” no one showed me what was in the brief case. Take “Fight Club” and they show you what’s in the brief case, explain to you why it’s so goddamned supid and why no one would ever want it.

Let’s be honest with ourselves…this movie is lame as fuck. You people who reviewed it for Entertainment Weekly and backed off your initial reviews after some herion-addled, yak-encrusted, cock sucker from Hollywood leaned on you to “lighten up” — YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A SORRY SACK OF GERBIL SHIT.

Fight Club gets 5 Swayzes:

p.s. I watched this movie a second time. This time it gets seven Swayzes:

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