Wednesday, 7 March 2012

Capital Celluloid 2012 - Day 75: Thursday Mar 15

Fight Club (Fincher, 1999): Stratford Picturehouse, 8pm

"Why Fight Club? It's not only one of the most bruising assaults on consumer culture since a pissed-off Naomi Klein got a shit toy in her Happy Meal, it's one of the last truly great films of the '90s – a middle-finger to the bullshit, logo-obsessed century it was about to swagger into. I can't think of a movie more in tune with TheShiznit.co.uk's policies of photoshopping funny captions on pictures of Taylor Lautner and making stupid animated gifs of Spider-Man.

Can you believe it's 13 years old? I can't remember a film that proved to be so eerily prescient – predicting the ubiquity of Apple even before the iPod and the rise of grass-roots social anarchy before Anonymous had a name. It delivers its message like a molotov cocktail through a window. Who wouldn't snap up the chance to watch it again, in a cinema environment, with loads of cool people? And me? An idiot, that's who. Are you an idiot? No? Then order your tickets NOW."

That's part of the great introduction to this special screening organised by TheShiznit.co.uk. You can read more here about the night but it's guaranteed to be fun.

Chicago Reader review:

'This exercise in mainstream masochism, macho posturing, and designer-grunge fascism (1999) is borderline ridiculous. But it also happens to be David Fincher's richest movie—not only because it combines the others (Alien 3, Seven, The Game) with chunks of Performance, but also because it keeps topping its own giddy excesses. Adapted by Jim Uhls from Chuck Palahniuk's novel, this has something—but only something—to do with a bored Edward Norton encountering a nihilistic doppelganger (Brad Pitt) who teaches him that getting your brains bashed out is fun. Though you're barely allowed to disagree with him, your jaw is supposed to drop with admiring disbelief at the provocation, and the overall impression of complexity might easily be mistaken for the genuine article. In other words, this is American self-absorption at its finest.' Jonathan Rosenbaum

I do love these opening credits.

No comments: