Fight Club

Fight Club is a 1999 American film directed by David Fincher, and starring Brad Pitt, Edward Norton and Helena Bonham Carter. It is based on the 1996 novel by Chuck Palahniuk. Norton plays the unnamed narrator, who is discontented with his white-collar job. He forms a "fight club" with soap salesman Tyler Durden (Pitt), and becomes embroiled in a relationship with an impoverished but beguilingly attractive woman, Marla Singer (Bonham Carter). Palahniuk's novel was optioned by Fox 2000 Pictures producer Laura Ziskin, who hired Jim Uhls to write the film adaptation. Fincher was selected because of his enthusiasm for the story. He developed the script with Uhls and sought screenwriting advice from the cast and others in the film industry. It was filmed in and around Los Angeles from July to December 1998. He and the cast compared the film to Rebel Without a Cause (1955) and The Graduate (1967), with a theme of conflict between Generation X and the value system of advertising. Studio executives did not like the film, and they restructured Fincher's intended marketing campaign to try to reduce anticipated losses. Fight Club premiered at the 56th Venice International Film Festival on September 10, 1999, and was released in the United States on October 15, 1999 by 20th Century Fox. The film failed to meet the studio's expectations at the box office and received polarized reactions from critics. It was ranked as one of the most controversial and talked-about films of the 1990s. However, Fight Club later found commercial success with its home video release, establishing it as a cult classic and causing media to revisit the film. In 2009, on its tenth anniversary, The New York Times dubbed it the "defining cult movie of our time."

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Ha ha! Ohh... Oh, you got some fucked-up friends, I'm tellin' you.

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Limber, though... silly coos.

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So, I come in last night. Phone's off the hook. Guess who's on the other end. I already knew the story before he told it to me.

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Have you ever heard a death rattle before? Do you think it'll live up to its name? Or will it just be a death... hairball?

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Prepare... to evacuate soul.

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9... 8... Now, how could Tyler, of all people, think it was a bad thing that Marla Singer was about to die? 5... 4... 3... Oh, hang on.

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You got here fast.

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Did I call you?

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Huh?

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Hey.

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The mattress is all sealed in slippery plastic.

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Oh, don't worry. It's not a threat to you.

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Oh, fuck. Somebody called the cops.

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Hey, where's 513? End of the hall. You know, the girl who lives there used to be a charming, lovely girl. She's lost faith in herself. Miss Singer! She's a monster. You have every reason to live! She's infectious human waste! Miss Singer! Good luck trying to save her!

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If I fall asleep, I'm done for. You're gonna have to keep me up... all... night. Un-fucking-believable. He was obviously able to handle it. You know what I mean. You fucked her.

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No, I didn't. Never? No.

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You're not into her, are you? No! God, not at all. I am Jack�s raging bile duct. Are you sure? You can tell me. Believe me, I'm sure. Put a gun to my head and paint the walls with my brains. That's good, 'cause she's a predator posing as a house pet. Stay away from that one.

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And the shit that came out of this woman's mouth I ain't never heard. My God. I haven't been fucked like that since grade school.

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Uhh! How could Tyler not go for that? The night before last, he was splicing sex organs into Cinderella. Marla doesn't need a lover. She needs a fucking case worker. She needs a wash. And she's in love with sport fuckin'. She invaded my support groups. Now she'd invaded my home. Hey, hey. Sit down.

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Now, listen. Can't have you talking to her about me. Why would I talk to her- You say anything about me or what goes on in this house to her or to anybody, we're done. Now, promise me. OK. You promise? - Yeah, I promise. - Promise. I just said I promise. That's 3 times you promised.

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