Fight Club (film)

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Fight Club is a 1999 film film based around an unnamed protagonist who struggles with his growing discomfort with consumerism and changes in the state of masculinity in American culture. In an attempt to overcome this, he creates an underground fighting club as a radical form of psychotherapy. It was adapted from the book of the same name by Chuck Palahniuk.

Directed by David Fincher.

Screenplay by Jim Uhls, based on the Novel by Chuck Palahniuk

Mischief. Mayhem. Soap.

Narrator

  • Tyler's words coming out of my mouth
  • I'd like to thank the Academy …
  • People are always asking me if I know Tyler Durden.
  • I can't think of anything.
  • Put a gun to my head and paint the walls with my brains.
  • I felt like putting a bullet between the eyes of every Panda that wouldn't screw to save its species. I wanted to open the dump valves on oil tankers and smother all those French beaches I'd never see. I wanted to breathe smoke.
  • I felt like destroying something beautiful.
  • After fighting, everything else in your life got the volume turned down. You could deal with anything.
  • And I used to be such a nice guy.
  • A guy who came to Fight Club for the first time – his ass was a wad of cookie dough. After a few weeks, he was carved out of wood.
  • If you woke up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?
  • With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.
  • On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.

  • For six months I couldn't sleep. With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy … of a copy … of a copy.
  • How embarrassing. A house full of condiments and no food.
  • We all started seeing things differently. Everywhere we went, we were sizing things up. I felt sorry for guys who packed into gyms, trying to look like how Calvin Klein or Tommy Hilfiger said they should.
  • This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.
  • Losing all hope was freedom.
  • … when you buy furniture, you tell yourself: that's it, that's the last sofa I'm gonna need. No matter what else happens, I've got that sofa problem handled. I had it all. I had a stereo that was very decent, a wardrobe that was getting very respectable. I was so close to being complete.
  • It was beautiful: we were selling rich women their own fat asses back to them.
  • That old saying, how you always hurt the one you love? Well, look, it works both ways.
  • You can swallow a pint of blood before you get sick.
  • We used to read pornography. Now it was the Horchow collection.
  • Marla Singer: she's like the scratch on the roof of your mouth that would heal if you would just stop tonguing it, but you can't.
  • Marla's philosophy of life is that she might die at any moment. The tragedy, she said, is that she didn't.
  • You had to give it to him – he had a plan. And it started to make sense, in a Tyler sort of way. No fear, no distractions. The ability to let that which does not matter … truly slide.
  • This is Bob. Bob had bitch tits.
  • I am Jack's complete lack of surprise.
  • I am Jack's smirking revenge.
  • I am Jack's wasted life.
  • I am Jack's inflamed sense of rejection.
  • I am Jack's broken heart.
  • I am Jack's raging bile duct.
  • I am Jack's cold sweat.
  • It was right on everyone's face. Tyler and I just made it visible. It was in the tip of everyone's tongue. Tyler and I just gave it a name.
  • I still can't think of anything.
  • You met me at a very strange time in my life.
  • Well, you're not gonna believe this …
  • If you ask me now, I couldn't tell you why I called him.
  • Ah … that really hurts … hit me again.
  • [From theatrical PSA] Remember, no one has the right to touch you in your bathing-suit area.
  • If I had a tumour, I'd name it Marla.

Tyler Durden

  • Three minutes. This is it, ground zero. Would you like to say anything to mark the occasion?
  • I want you to hit me as hard as you can.
  • Man, you've got some fucked up friends! Limber, though.
  • We're a generation of men raised by women. I'm wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.
  • How much can you possibly know about yourself if you've never been in a fight?

  • Now, a question of etiquette: as I pass, do I give her the ass or the crotch?
  • Now, why do guys like you and me know what a duvet is? Is it essential to our survival in the hunter-gatherer sense of the word? No. What are we, then?
  • Fuck Martha Stewart! Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic; it's all going down, man. So fuck off with your sofa units and your Strinne green stripe patterns. I say, never be complete. I say, stop being perfect. I say, let's evolve, and let the chips fall where they may.
  • The things you own, they end up owning you.
  • Reject the basic assumption of civilization, especially the importance of material possessions!
  • You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. We are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.

  • Self-improvement is masturbation. Now, self-destruction
  • [The Narrator's tooth falls out] Even the Mona Lisa's falling apart.
  • Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken.
  • Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers bailed, what does that tell you about God?
  • You have to consider the possibility that God does not like you. He never wanted you. In all probability, he hates you. This is not the worst thing that can happen. We don't need Him. Fuck damnation, man, fuck redemption! If we are God's unwanted children, so be it!
  • First you have to give up, first you have to know – not fear – know that someday you're gonna die.
  • It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.
  • Man, I see in Fight Club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see it squandered. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables – slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars, but we won't. We're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.
  • In the world I see … you are stalking elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of Rockefeller Center. You'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life. You'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower. And when you look down, you'll see tiny figures pounding corn, laying strips of venison on the empty car pool lane of some abandoned superhighway.
  • [To the Chief of Police] Hi. You're going to call off your rigorous investigation. You're going to publicly state that there is no underground group. Or these guys are going to take your balls. We're going to send one to the New York Times, one to the L.A. Times press-release-style. Look, the people you are after are the people you depend on. We cook your meals, we haul your trash, we connect your calls, we drive your ambulances, we guard you while you sleep. Do not fuck with us.
  • You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else.
  • The first soap was made from the ashes of heroes, like the first monkey shot into space. Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing.
  • Stop trying to control everything and just let go.
  • The first rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk about Fight Club. Third rule of Fight Club: someone yells "stop", goes limp, taps out, the fight is over. Fourth rule: only two guys to a fight. Fifth rule: one fight at a time, fellas. Sixth rule: no shirts, no shoes. Seventh rule: fights will go on as long as they have to. And the eighth and final rule: if this is your first night at Fight Club, you have to fight.
  • I look like you want to look, I fuck like you want to fuck, I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in every way that you are not.
  • Oh, heavens, no. Not the green one, anything but the green one. [After the green wire is cut] I asked you not to do that!
  • Ok. You are now firing a gun at your imaginary friend near 400 gallons of nitroglycerin!
  • [Last words] What's that smell?
  • Ah. Flashback humor.
  • Just ask, man.
  • Is it a problem for you to ask?
  • [From theatrical PSA] Did you know that urine is sterile? You can drink it.

Marla Singer

  • This isn't a for real suicide. This is probably one of those "cry for help" things.
  • My God … I haven't been fucked like that since grade school.
  • Candystripe a cancer ward, it's not my problem.
  • There are things about you I like. You're smart, you're funny...you're spectacular in bed.
  • It's a bridesmaid's dress. Someone loved it intensely for one day, then tossed it … like a Christmas tree. So special, then bam – it's on the side of the road, tinsel still clinging to it – like a sex crime victim, underwear inside out, bound with electrical tape.
  • A condom is the glass slipper of our generation. You slip one on when you meet a stranger. You dance all night. Then, you throw it away … the condom, I mean, not the stranger.
  • If I fall asleep, I'm done for. You're gonna have to keep me up – all night
  • You're the worst thing that ever happened to me.
  • You have deep-seated emotional problems for which you should seek professional help!
  • I can hardly believe anything about last night.

Others

  • Pre Movie Warning: "If you are reading this, then this warning is for you. Every word you read of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don't you have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way to spend these moments? Or are you so impressed with authority that you give respect and credence to all who claim it? Do you read everything you're supposed to read? Do you think everything you're supposed to think? Buy what you're told you should want? Get out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex. Stop the excessive shopping and masturbation. Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you're alive. If you don't claim your humanity, you will become a statistic. You have been warned … Tyler."
    • Taken from split-second "pop-up" warning that appears at the beginning of the DVD
  • Chloe: Well, I'm still here, but I don't know for how long. That's as much certainty as anyone can give me. But I've got some good news: I no longer have any fear of death. But I am in a pretty lonely place. No one will have sex with me. I'm so close to the end, and all I want is to get laid for the last time. I have pornographic movies in my apartment, and lubricants and amyl nitrite …

Dialogue

Richard Chesler: Is that your blood?
Narrator: Some of it, yeah.

Narrator: Well, what do you want me to do? You just want me to hit you?
Tyler Durden: C'mon, do me this one favor.
Narrator: Why?
Tyler Durden: Why? I don't know why; I don't know. Never been in a fight. You?
Narrator: No, but that's a good thing.
Tyler Durden: No, it is not. How much can you know about yourself if you've never been in a fight? I don't wanna die without any scars. So come on – hit me, before I lose my nerve.
Narrator: This is crazy.
Tyler Durden: So go crazy. Let 'er rip.
Narrator: I don't know about this.
Tyler Durden: I don't either. Who gives a shit? No one's watching. What do you care?
Narrator: Whoa, wait, this is crazy. You want me to hit you?
Tyler Durden: That's right.
Narrator: What, like in the face?
Tyler Durden: Surprise me.
Narrator: This is so fucking stupid …
[He swings and connects with Tyler's head]
Tyler Durden: Motherfucker! You hit me in the ear!
Narrator: Well, Jesus, I'm sorry.
Tyler Durden: Ow, Christ … why the ear, man?
Narrator: Guess I fucked it up …
Tyler Durden: No, that was perfect!
[He punches the Narrator in the stomach]

[One of the Narrator's teeth falls out]
Narrator: Fuck.
Tyler Durden: Hey, even the Mona Lisa's falling apart.

Narrator: When people think you're dying, they really, really listen to you, instead of just …
Marla Singer: … waiting for their turn to speak?

Richard Chesler (reading a piece of paper): The first rule of Fight Club is you don't talk about Fight Club?
Narrator (voice-over): I'm half asleep again. I must've left the original in the copy machine.
Richard Chesler: The second rule of Fight Club … is this yours?
Narrator: Huh?
Richard Chesler: Pretend you're me, make a managerial decision: you find this, what would you do?
Narrator (pauses): Well, I gotta tell you: I'd be very, very careful who you talk to about that, because the person who wrote that … is dangerous.
[Gets up from the chair]
Narrator (talking slowly): And this button-down, Oxford-cloth psycho might just snap, and then stalk from office to office with an Armalite AR-10 carbine gas-powered semi-automatic weapon, pumping round after round into colleagues and co-workers. This might be someone you've known for years. Someone very, very close to you.
Narrator (voice-over): Tyler's words coming out of my mouth.
[He snatches the piece of paper from Richard's hands]
Narrator (voice-over): And I used to be such a nice guy.
Narrator: Or maybe you shouldn't bring me every little piece of trash you happen to pick up.
[Phone rings]
Narrator (into phone): Compliance and Liability …?
Marla Singer: My tit's gonna rot off.
Narrator (to Richard Chesler): Would you excuse me? I need to take this.

[Narrator's bags have just been confiscated]
Narrator: Was it ticking?
Airport Security Officer: Actually, throwers don't worry about ticking 'cause modern bombs don't tick.
Narrator: Sorry, throwers?
Airport Security Officer: Baggage handlers. But when a suitcase vibrates, then the throwers gotta call the police.
Narrator: My suitcase was vibrating?
Airport Security Officer: Nine times out of ten it's an electric razor. But … every once in a while [looks around, leans in conspiratorially] … it's a dildo. [leans back] Of course, it's company policy never to imply ownership in the event of a dildo. We have to use the indefinite article, "a dildo", never … your dildo.
Narrator: I don't own a dildo!

Narrator: I am Jack's colon …
Tyler Durden: Yeah I get cancer. I kill Jack.

Tyler Durden: OK, any historic figure.
Narrator: I'd fight Gandhi.
Tyler Durden: Good answer.
Narrator: How about you?
Tyler Durden: Lincoln.
Narrator: Lincoln?
Tyler Durden: Big guy, big reach. Skinny guys fight 'til they're burger.

Tyler Durden: Did you know that if you mix equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate, you can make napalm?
Narrator: No, I did not know that. Is that true?
Tyler Durden: That's right. One could make all kinds of explosives, using simple household items.
Narrator: Really …?
Tyler Durden: If one were so inclined.
Narrator: Tyler, you are by far the most interesting single-serving friend I've ever met. … See, I have this thing: everything on a plane is single-serving …
Tyler Durden: Oh, I get it. It's very clever.
Narrator: Thank you.
Tyler Durden: How's that working out for you?
Narrator: What?
Tyler Durden: Being clever.
Narrator: … Great.
Tyler Durden: Keep it up, then. Right up. [gets up from seat] Now, a question of etiquette: as I pass, do I give you the ass or the crotch?

Narrator: He was the guerilla terrorist in the food service industry.
[The Narrator looks at Tyler, who's urinating in a pot]
Tyler Durden: Do not watch. I cannot go when you watch.
Narrator: Apart from seasoning the lobster bisque, he farted on the meringue, sneezed on braised endive, and as for the cream of mushroom soup, well …
Tyler Durden (snickers): Go ahead. Tell 'em.
Narrator: You get the idea.

Tyler Durden: We're consumers. We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty, these things don't concern me. What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy's name on my underwear. Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra.
Narrator: Martha Stewart.
Tyler Durden: Fuck Martha Stewart! Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic; it's all going down, man. So fuck off with your sofa units and your Strinne green stripe patterns. I say, never be complete. I say, stop being perfect. I say, let's evolve, and let the chips fall where they may.

Narrator: Tyler was a night person. While the rest of us were sleeping, he worked. He had one part time job as a projectionist. See, a movie doesn't come all on one big reel. It comes on a few. So someone has to be there to switch the projectors at the exact moment that one reel ends and the next one begins. If you look for it, you can see these little dots come into the upper right-hand corner of the screen.
Tyler Durden: In the industry, we call them cigarette burns.
Narrator: That's the cue for a changeover. He flips the projectors, the movie keeps right on going, and nobody in the audience has any idea.
Tyler Durden: And why would anyone want this shit job?
Narrator: Because it affords him other interesting opportunities.
Tyler Durden: Like splicing single frames of pornography into family films.
Narrator: So when the snooty cat and the courageous dog with the celebrity voices meet for the first time in reel three, that's when you'll catch a flash of Tyler's contribution to the film.
[The audience is watching the film, the pornography flashes for a split second]
Narrator: Nobody knows that they saw it, but they did.
Tyler Durden: A nice, big cock …
[Several audience members look rattled, a little girl is crying]
Narrator: Even a hummingbird couldn't catch Tyler at work.

Narrator: You know, what I really think is it's time you got out of here.
Marla Singer: Yeah. Don't worry, I'm leaving.
Narrator: Not that we don't love your little visits.
Marla Singer: You know, you are such a nutcase I can't even begin to keep up.

Narrator: A new car built by my company leaves somewhere traveling at 60 mph. The rear differential locks up. The car crashes and burns with everyone trapped inside. Now, should we initiate a recall? Take the number of vehicles in the field, A, multiply by the probable rate of failure, B, multiply by the average out-of-court settlement, C. A times B times C equals X. If X is less than the cost of a recall, we don't do one.
Woman on plane: Are there a lot of these kinds of accidents?
Narrator: You wouldn't believe.
Woman on plane: Which car company do you work for?
Narrator: A major one.

Narrator: What are you talking about? This is not a fucking piece of evidence! This is a person! He's a friend of mine, and you're not going to bury him in the fucking garden.
Angel Face: He was killed serving Project Mayhem, sir.
Narrator: This is Bob.
Steph: But in Project Mayhem, we have no names.
Narrator: No, listen to me. This is a man and he has a name, and it's Robert Paulson, okay?
Mechanic: Robert Paulson.
Narrator: He is dead now, because of us, all right? You understand that?
[Everyone stares at Narrator]
Mechanic: I understand. In death, a member of Project Mayhem has a name. His name is Robert Paulson.
Steph: His name is Robert Paulson.
Narrator: Stop it! Shut up!
All Space Monkeys: His name is Robert Paulson!
All Space Monkeys (louder): His name is Robert Paulson! His name is Robert Paulson!
Narrator: This is all over with!

Narrator: Testicular cancer should be no contest.
Marla Singer: You know, technically, I have more of a right to be there than you. You still have your balls.
Narrator: You're kidding.
Marla Singer: I don't know. Am I?

External links

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