An unsightly masochistic celebration of gruesome violence, or provocative social commentary on the drudgery of the materialistic, consumerist environment in which we are now forced to live? "Fight Club" asks a number of intriguing and openly honest questions about the state of our society, but never offers a clear-cut answer - which is in no way a bad thing. When so many films pass us by after viewing, Fincher"s gutsy thriller sparks an electric mark on topical discussion and leaves a searing scar on the brain; it is in no way conventional and refuses to conform to generic construction, or even a basic morality play. Even if you believe the film is only a showcase for extreme violence wrapped in glossy and deceptive packaging you can"t say it is like anything you expected.

"Fight Club" is now considered a phenomenal cult-hit, mesmerising audiences back in 1999 despite failing to wow a number of critics. It"s all too easy to blame films depicting such grotesque imagery for the rising levels of violence in society, but if you look closer Fincher in no way stamps his approval on the character"s behaviour. He doesn"t quite reprimand it either, but his visceral approach to the highly topical and somewhat sensitive issue means the psychological degeneration of various individuals is imminent. Jack, Tyler and all who join them unleash aggression though this primal method for that ultimate, incomparable high, yet none find solace through such conduct. It is a positive nod to the films true subtext that the screenplay follows such a path; not the unfortunate mistake of a picture attempting glorification of fight and bloodshed.

Brad Pitt delivers a memorable performance, but the show belongs to a Norton. He plays Jack as that sarcastic, irritable bloke you probably know somewhere, and gently turns him into a man searching for feeling in a life of static, of vacuum. In Durden Jack sees everything he desires to be, a man who inspires fear and admiration but mostly acts as a forceful catalyst for change. Norton also boasts an actors dream in his own self-abuse scene before his shocked and bewildered boss. It"s a credit to him and a scene-stealing Helena Bonham Carter that "Fight Club"s razor-sharp script finds just the right tone for some ironic black humour and outwardly hilarious moments.

It is, however, Fincher"s bold and innovative direction for which "Fight Club" will be most revered. He knows how to hint at a secret but always keep it well concealed, and shocking revelations will demand a repeat viewing. Only then can a viewer truly appreciate the seemingly offbeat tangents and moments of expert writing that offer more profound answers, plus the poetic ending that doesn"t sell out on "Fight Club"s deeper philosophies for yet another, ultimate bust-up.

But "Fight Club" is not a masterpiece. Although it is never less than compelling it often borders on the repetitive, and the underlying message is always in danger of being lost in the testosterone-fuelled displays of human brutality that work on levels of pure adrenaline. It remains a gruelling yet unique cinematic experience, and always has plenty to say. Do we criticise the sterility of our society and blame it for the most horrifying human actions, or accept that times have changed and feeling can be found without resorting to bloody violence that disgusts the majority? Ironically, our repulse is founded in instinct too, so the paradox remains an unsolved dilemma, of which "Fight Club" is a stimulating and exhilarating examination.