Edward Norton - Blog Posts

need his loser ass

I’m movie lovers🎬🎞️🎥

YES YES

I even wrote an entire continuation of the scene where Jack meets David Mills at the psychiatric hospital, and then Jack goes through the process of becoming David’s legal guardian as he reintegrates into society, along with the journey of them becoming roommates. I think I was obsessed with your crossover idea back then!!

I know the fight club crossover shipping fandom is really loving primal fear right now but I am begging you guys to see my vision here. Pls see the vision. Are you seeing the vision

*send an ask to submit a snub

Snub winner for each category will go head-to-head with official nominations winner

that one drawing of the narrator i posted and it's the same except now he's trans so it's not

sooo i finished the drawing i was talking about earlier. i mean it's kind of okay but i still hate it

ummm my first post here (might be the last one as well)

my npd ass is craving attention really hard so uh ill post this pathetic beat up twink i drew at 4am and wait till something happens

Web Shoutout: Actors on Actors

Welcome to Web Shoutout, a series highlighting interesting places in the interwebs about movies and filmmaking! (Check out the previous Web Shoutout here).

This time I want to talk about Variety’s Actors on Actors series on Youtube. These days, I think most people seem to forget that acting is an art--and a very challenging one at that. It’s easy for us to forget about that and get lost in the glitz-and-glam part of a celebrity life, because they don’t really get to talk much about the craft of acting. Most interviews that we see are either promotional interviews or a 5-minute conversation in a talk show (that undoubtedly will include a cute random trivia). Which, they’re not inherently bad but they always leave me wanting more

Distinguishing itself from those kinds of interviews, I find Actors on Actors incredibly delightful to see, if only because it brings me so much joy to see a conversation between two people that relate and respect one another. Obviously, we also get to hear in-depth stories about their experiences as an actor, the roles that they picked, and how they do their craft. I’ll just leave you a with several videos to enjoy, and also don’t forget to take a look at their channel and Actors on Actors playlist.

1. Ryan Reynolds and Taraji P Henson - Full Conversation

2. Andrew Garfield and Amy Adams - Why Playing Spider-Man Broke Andrew Garfield’s Heart

3. Octavia Spencer and Dev Patel - Full Conversation

4. Benedict Cumberbatch and Edward Norton - Full Conversation

Subscribe to Variety’s channel.

Review: Birdman: Or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) (2014)

Rating: 8.5 of 10

Before I say anything, let me just remind you that Birdman was hyped to extraordinary degree. Seemingly every movie site and every single movie critic loved it. Academy Award fell all over for it, and if you don't pay attention you might think they're talking about The Second Coming or something. It was crazy, and I purposefully waited to watch and and review it (just because that's how I am). Spoiler alert: Birdman went on to win Best Picture, Best Original Screenplay, Best Directing, and Best Cinematography in Academy Award. All of which are pretty well deserved, actually, so here it goes (non-spoiler review):

Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton) is a washed-up actor, primarily known only as the guy who played "Birdman" in the movies three times over. He desperately tries to—risking everything he's got—to reach industrial relevance again by curiously adapting a play based on Raymond Carver's "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love". In an unexpected turn of events, big-time Broadway performer-slash-a**hole Mike Shiner (Edward Norton) agrees to join the play at last minute.

In short, Birdman is a brilliant satire. It expertly examines the absurd dichotomy between entertainment and art, relevance and irrelevance, ego and confidence, fantasy and reality, man and icon, in the way that's almost impossible to not see the parallels to the real world (whatever that is). That, of course, is intentional. The movie blurs the line between fiction and reality: it name drops several things from The Hunger Games to Robert Downey Jr. (whom Riggan might or might not hate). Heck, even the play itself is based from a real writer and a real short story. And guess what? In a further satirical twist, Michael Keaton actually played Batman back in 1989 if anyone remembers, and one would have to be literally blind to not see the parallel between the two superheroic icons. 

This super-realist theme really is a part of something genius once you consider its unique faux-one shot approach. The whole movie—almost 119 minutes of it—was shot and edited to make it look like it’s all done in one continuous shot. Birdman is reverse-escapism, in a way. It traps you in the same way Riggan is trapped with his poor pathetic life, and you can’t escape from the scene no more than Riggan was able to escape his own body.

While I’m not sure if Birdman is as revolutionary as I’ve been led to believe, I can definitely see how it appeals most deeply to the cinephile and theater crowd. Snobbery, fickleness of fame, and fight for relevance are themes that they know all too well, and it must be fun to see a movie that pokes fun at it so gleefully, sternly, stylishly, and artistically fresh.

Birdman is unique artistically not only because of the editing, but also because of the soundtrack. The soundtrack is of drums, all the time, throughout the movie—drums that are out of tune and kind of broken to reflect the state of mind that Riggan is in. (Bonus: How they made the soundtrack. It’s impressive.) Director Alejandro González Iñárritu clearly had a unique vision and he made it all happen with ease and brilliance. That said, I must say the only actor that really jumped at me in Birdman is Edward Norton (despite Keaton is a front runner for Best Actor for his role). The others are good too, but for me Norton clearly outshines them as the rude Broadway prodigy.

TL;DR While originally I wasn’t that impressed with Birdman, it really is one of those movies that gets better the more I think about it. Is it revolutionary? I don't really think so, but is it brilliant? Definitely.

timmy takes rome🇮🇹

you guyyyyyys, these outfits!!!! i’m dying, he looks so good 🥵

i'm usually not comfortable sharing non saw-related drawings i do, but this IS my blog and i can imagine anything. anyway here are my first attempts at drawing edward norton!

they turned out looking kinda like arthur morgan or hosea matthews from red dead redemption 2.

Hi there! I just finished reading nearly all of your work and I want to say I LOVED it, especially your writing for Fight Club. I was wondering about your thoughts on The Narrator from Fight Club (the main character who shares a brain with Tyler), or if he’s at all involved when you think about Tyler. Xoxo love ur work

Hiiii omg!!

First of all, I'm so so grateful you took the time out of your day to read my fics! I'm so glad that you enjoyed them!

I personally love Edward Norton and his role within Fight Club, so I do often think of him while writing. When setting up a plan for creating another addition to Fight Club in fanfiction, I usually try to think of Edward Norton as well such as, "is this an interchangeable dialogue between both Edward Norton and Brad Pitt?" However, I usually tend to put in the Brad Pitt gifs and gear things towards his style of being Tyler Durden because that's my own personal appeal but also others as he's quite the individual.

Thank you for asking!!

💛🦐

FUCK YOUR LIFE'S PERCEPTION

TYLER DURDEN X READER

⚠️Warnings: swearing ⚠️

Just a short drabble. Tyler tells you he cares about you. That's about it.

Tyler's cigarette smoke rose up from the end of his cancer stick and drifted up towards the ceiling of the non-ventilated room. The green paint was peeling in tremendous amounts and the stains from water damage were evident. The smoke curled in cylindrical spirals and kissed the chipping paint almost as if inviting it to fall to the floorboards below; which conveniently, were also subject to the same damage from the water above.

You laid in silence next to him, watching the sights from above and playing with the hem of your shitty Goodwill shirt that had been unraveling due to hasty scissor cuts you'd made the night before upon realizing it was longer in length than you'd originally wanted it. You were both in desperate need of a shower and while not bathing might've fit the aesthetic of Paper Street, it did not go over well anywhere else.

Motioning towards his pocket, Tyler silently offers you one of the cigarettes he has. The container itself only held two of them while the rest of the semi empty box has a couple of bloodied tissues stuffed into it's crevices and a haiku from you which read:

"Tyler, that bitch boy, God I love that man to death, shut the fuck up please." You had given it to him for his birthday and was quite proud of it to say the least. He looked at it, laughed, and then stuffed it into the very same pocket he had just withdrawn it from. The smoke was fading now, trying desperately on a fight against the house to find an open window or a vent to no avail.

Taking a cigarette for yourself, you allow him to light it. The drag was long and slow and you felt your lungs fill up with what you presumed would eventually kill you.

"A lot on your mind?" The leather jacket-clad man asked with a twinge of a smile, growing fond of your company over the past few weeks. Ever since he'd offered his services to you at Lou's while you were working, you'd grown attached to him. The night you guys fucked and laid in bed afterwards talking about how soap was the yardstick of civilization and how there should be more methods of shaving for women, you knew you couldn't just be fuck buddies. Your emotions with Tyler ran deep.

"Yeah, something like that." You said, blowing the smoke out and watching it meet the rest of the clouded air above. It was soothing in a way. Almost as comforting as a hug if you liked them.

"Wanna go for a walk?" He asked, knowing that was your favorite past time when you had plaguing thoughts. Sighing at his perfectness, you agree by getting up from the magazines you had plopped yourself down on on the floor. Placing your hands behind your back, you lean back and crack it with a satisfied hum escaping your lips. Tyler joins you and picks up his red tinted glasses on preparation for the outside.

"How'd you know?" You ask, walking out towards the door leading to the kitchen and eventually to the mud puddle infested streets of the lower income street you resided on with your boyfriend.

"Know what? That you were angry?" He asked smugly, walking after you with that confident manly sort of walk that only pricks seem to have.

"Yeah." You said, shivering once your foot stepped out the door. The shit shirt (as you referred to it as) was only making matters worse considering how thin the material was.

Upon your sudden fixation with the cold, your boyfriend took off his leather jacket and placed it over your shoulders in an attempt at comforting you. It wasn't entirely warm, but it would do.

"I feel like life is just getting worse. Everything is a downward spiral and we're all just inevitably spiraling with it. There's nothing to live for. We're all consumed by the media that tells us to kill ourselves. Nothing is right." You eventually admitted to Tyler who was preparing another cigarette from his pocket. Grinning, it seemed as though he liked your response considering how he didn't have to pry the information out of you.

"You sure you don't just need a shower?" He asked, walking alongside you purposely going through all the puddles accompanying the sidewalk you were on. He was strange like that. You were sure there was a poetic meaning to it as there always seems to be, but you didn't feel like figuring it out in this moment.

"Well, that too. But I'm serious, Tyler. Everything is shitting on everything else."

"I agree with you. The world is chaotic and terrible and beyond redemption. Humans redeeming themselves? Forget about it."

"Exactly. It's just-"

"-but there are some good things."

You stopped in your tracks. Did Tyler just contradict his every statement? He's always rambling on about the terrors of the world the unfortunateness of the human condition. It's always the media that's cynical. Down with the patriarchy. Everything sucks. Why was he disagreeing with you now?

"What do you mean by good things?" You asked, genuinely curious by his change in demeanor.

"I say fuck your life's perception. You're entirely right about everything. The world is beyond saving. People are dying everyday and the rich get away with murder. We're slaves to the television. But- there are some things worth living for."

Curious, you give Tyler that look which reads "what are you going on about?" In an urge for him to continue. The puddles stopped the closer and closer you guys made it to town and his shoes eventually stopped making the rubbery squeaking noises of clothing material hitting water. Gravel replaced the mud and Tyler started to kick the stray rocks beneath his feet.

"Like what?" You ask.

"Like soap. Literature. Arson. Bagel Bites. You." He says, matter of fact as if he didn't have to think of the answer at all. He was such a a badass, seeing the world for the way it was; grimy and worthless. He taught life lessons to the space monkeys he kept in the basement of Paper Street. There was no special little snowflake attitude about him. He was solely the most interesting and intelligent human being. From the way he wore his clothes to the way he treated everyone else. The way he smoked and the way he preferred baths over showers. He was always the first to willingly touch the city subway railings not caring if he got sick. He blew shit up for fun. And now he was telling you that you were something good about his life, something that he valued so little.

"You- you mean it?"You ask, reaching for his hand now that the sidewalk was level.

"About what I said in regards to Bagel Bites?" He joked with a knowing smile. "Of course."

"No, asshole. About me."

"Oh," he pretended to think for a moment, "yes."

It's Hot To Punch a Blonde Guy in A Bar

Tyler Durden X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: Swearing, sexual innuendos, light nsfw, blood, use of drugs, reader is put in an uncomfortable position ⚠️

"Tyler?" You called from across the bar, wondering where on earth he went. He had ordered something and left you there to make it for him, walking away from it entirely so he could continue with whatever else was occupying him. With the cold drink in your hand, you glanced over both shoulders and wondered if maybe he ended up in the basement again. Where Tyler Durden was in Lou's Tavern was always a mystery. However; as you moved to set the drink back down, a familiar voice appeared from your left.

"Thanks." With this simple short and curt response, he took the glass from the bar and sat down haphazardly on the leather upholstered stools. Dark maroon jacket and contrasting bright blue shirt with palm trees, Tyler was really a sight to behold as he removed the large red frames from his face and put out his cigarette on the counter. You had told him numerous times to just take it outside, but he was Tyler Durden and if he wanted to do something, he did it.

Brushing away a couple strands of hair from the sides of your cheeks, you tried to force a smile on your face as you went to clean up the cigarette ash. He never made your job easy. Always leaving cigarette ash on the counter and a fight in his wake, you've just learned not to argue with him and go about your job.

Picking up another glass from the back, you move to serve the man directly to his right. This stranger had bright blonde hair- too bright- and a set of blue eyes to match. With an ugly black eye and fresh blood atop his lips, he went to grab your wrist to keep you there after you had handed him his order. This wasn't entirely out of the usual, this bar was dingy and gross and full of men who were even more disgusting. You considered it a good week when you didn't get sexualized for just breathing.

"Take your hand off me." You said in a firm but polite tone. If he tried anything stupid, you would kick him into next week.

Sighing, he moved the beer slightly away from him as he stared you up and down, taking in the sight before him and reveling in it. He seemed to like the fact that you were visibly uncomfortable and so he continued with his antics.

"Relax, Girlie. What do you say we get out of here?" He smiled and you could see that he was missing about four teeth.

"I have a better idea. Fuck off before I stab you in the face." He removed his grip from you and held up his hands in defeat.

"Woaahhhhh girlie is fiesty-"

Sometime between when he first opened his mouth and his lame gesture, you popped him right in the jaw, sending him tumbling backwards off his stool and onto the ground. There was a commotion now, the men at the bar looking at the blonde bitch as he held his face in his hands. All except for Tyler Durden, who stared directly at you with a half smile. He wouldn't admit it to himself right away but that was sexy as hell. Or, at least he thought so.

"You cunt." This kid spat out the name at you before trying to get up and steady himself against the counter. When his face came into view, you could see that his jaw was dislocated and blood was pouring out down the side of his mouth. You mentally high-fived yourself for breaking his face.

"Aww, want girlie to get you a band-aid?" You said in a mocking tone. This kid really pissed you off.

"Well I ought to-" he jumps up over the counter and reaches straight for your throat as you dodge away in the nick of time. The blonde boy throws himself into the cabinet of glasses and breaks a few of the ones in the very front. You steady yourself for a fight but you feel a hand on your shoulder and smell the familiar aroma of homemade soap and rust. Tyler held you back with a smile.

"I can take care of this one from here, thanks for warming him up for me."

Tyler crouched down to the man's level and held his face up by his ugly ass hair. The man now sported a couple fresh cuts, none of which were too serious except for the one above his eyebrow. That would need stitches.

"I'll have you know that you tried to hit my girl, Angel Face." Tyler stated as he banged the stranger's head against the floor once again and knocked a couple of teeth out. "This girl right here isn't in fucking Fight Club you sadistic fuck." Once again the stranger loses a couple more teeth.

Pound after pound and slap after slap, Tyler has to stop himself before things became too messy. Floor tiles were starting to pop up, for Christs sake. Blood ran through the lines in-between the tiles creating pretty red patterns in contrast against the green of the room. The man that Tyler referred to as Angel Face now had two black eyes and a deep gash by his forehead. Glass stuck out from spots in his hands as be gasped for air, blood bubbling up in his throat and involuntarily being spat out.

"Hey, let's get out of here before some human butt wipe decides to call the authorities." Lighting another cigarette, your boyfriend had the largest grin on his face. Even with the specks of the stranger's blood, you thought he looked hot as hell.

"Sounds like a plan." You said, and grabbed your purse from behind the bar. "Irvine, I'm clocking out early!"

With an arm around your waist, Tyler escorted you off the premises and towards the familiar house on Paper Street; puddles lined up against the sidewalk and broken bottles littering the grass. Thankfully the walk from Lou's wasn't too far and in no time, you found yourself within the confines of the wooden house with the horribly printed wallpaper. Kicking off your shoes and leaving them in the walkway to mess with Tyler, you go to grab the coffee cup printed robe that he wore so often from the back of the couch in the living room. It was getting colder as the seasons changed and you knew that it would be another difficult year of not being able to afford heat.

"So... About this Fight Club you mentioned earlier...?" You started, trying to make conversation. You had briefly heard whispers of the other guys talking about some club that took place in the basement of where you worked, but whenever you had asked, the men stated that they were sworn to secrecy.

"First rule, babe. Can't talk about it." You heard his voice from the kitchen along with the clattering of pots and pans. It was 12:17am, why the fuck was he making soap this early?

"Not even with me?" You walked into the kitchen and leant against the island in the middle of the room; surrounded by haphazardly placed cupboards and exposed wires from the ceiling. There was the smell of vinegar in the air and the stove kicked on, emitting a slight amount of heat on Tyler's side of the room.

"Nope. Although I might be inclined to share a few details about my daily habits if you let me have my robe back." He said with his back to you, busying himself with mixing the soap around with a spoon.

"What if you tell me everything instead? I deserve to know, I think." You said, lighting a cigarette from one of the boxes on the table.

"That's hardly a deal."

"I'll give you your robe back."

"It's mine anyways."

"I'll let you fuck me again."

Tyler put down the spoon and seriously contemplated your offer. His hair was sticking up in every direction and he still had yet to wipe the blood off his face from the catastrophe earlier.

"Before you go to work tomorrow?" He asked, raising his eyebrows in a ridiculous suggestive manner.

"Yes. Scout's honor."

Tyler turned the stove off and placed the contents of the bowl in the fridge. You never dared to open that fridge since you were sure you would find body parts or blood bags or some other weird shit in there. That's how you and Tyler thrived. He did murderous shit, you didn't pry. He gave you love and cared about you, you stayed out of his business.

Turning around, he places both his arms on the island directly across from you. His jacket had been cast aside so his short sleeved T-shirt allowed for a great view of the veins in his arms and hands. Sweat beaded slightly on his forehead and he licked his lips in anticipation.

"Fight Club. It's a place where the real heroes of society earn their praise for their dedication to life and the downfall of capitalism," he smirks and rubs your hand on the counter, "No girls allowed."

"Why not? I'm sure I could kick your ass. You saw me beat up that douchebag today." You said, with a glare directed towards Tyler's comment.

"See, there's a difference. Most of the guys get pleasure out of fighting each other because it lets loose some of their anger. For me, if you were to kick my ass that is, I would find it pleasurable purely because you're sexy and I love you."

You sighed with a slight smile to let him know you weren't angry. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly handsome?"

"Go back to making soap or some shit," you joked.

"I have a better idea." He scooped you up into his arms and pressed you against the wall, locking you in between his body and the structure of the house. He gave you one last look in the eyes before he went to work on kissing you softly at first, and then getting more and more rough and sloppy. Fingers intertwined in his hair, you kissed him back feverishly.

His hand then went to make a move against the side of your thigh, tapping alongside it with his fingers in a drumming motion as he continued to kiss you with an intense passion. You thought it was cute and waited for him to change his directory towards something more R rated and leave the PG-13 in the dust. Just as you had silently hoped, his hand moved up to the hem of your shirt, slowly rubbing circles on your side and making his way up slowly. Tyler liked to take his time with these things, you noticed. It was because of some poetic thingy probably; about how the world was caving in and we're all dying but we can take things slow sometimes and enjoy the moment.

"I thought you wanted it before I had to leave for work?" You asked with a knowing tone. Your boyfriend was such a wimp about these things.

"We can always stay up all night...." He stated in between kisses. He pulled away for a moment to look at you and your current position against the wall, taking in the sight before him. He didn't see a lot of beauty in the world, but you definitely held the most of it.

"We can't do that, remember what happened last time?"

Tyler stopped his motions and thought back to the time he had gotten a little too crazy from the exhaustion and the sex that he threw the furniture from one of the upstairs bedrooms out the window to make room for some of the weird shit he wanted to try. The desk drawers and the chairs as well as all the old magazines were still outside on the ground, spewed about in disfunctional chaos outside the second story window.

"Fine, then I'll wait until tomorrow." He said, taking the robe from you and slipping it on, walking upstairs.

"You bitch, Tyler! You set me up!" You said with a laugh and followed him up the stairs. The smell of soap slowly leaving you as you got closer and closer to Tyler's room at the top of the stairs.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. Are you gonna stay awake now?" He grinned and pulled you in close to him, opening the door with the heel of his foot and stumbling into the room with you in his arms as he made his way towards the bed. The door shut behind you and as the heavy wood made impact with the frame, a crack ran up the wall. Before you had time to register how much that would cost to get fixed, Tyler reached out and grabbed you from behind, pinning you onto the bed and leaning over you with the wildest grin on his face.

"Alright, Mr. Durden," you said as you twisted around and caught him by surprise, "I can stay up for a while." You caught his ankles and turned the two of you around so that he was now the one underneath and you were on top, straddling his waist. He took off the infamous coffee robe and threw it over the edge of the bed and watched as it hit the floor, lying back down again. His shirt was rising up, exposing the toned abdomen he had underneath, and his beautiful pale skin. His breath hitched as he watched you reach to remove the garment from his torso and then up above his chest and shoulders, removing it entirely from his frame. Your eyes practically drank in the image of him lying there shirtless and gorgeous as ever. The scars that littered his body glimmered under the soft glow of the candles used to light the house after dark (courtesy of no one ever paying the electrical bills). Your fingers went to trace over some of them, Tyler watching you with complete and utter admiration as you became lost in thought.

"Hey, everything okay?" He asked, watching how quickly your mood changed.

You smiled. "Everything is perfect, you're perfect."

Any anxiousness of his went away with your confirmation of his appearance.

"My scars?" He asked.

"Especially your scars. You're beautiful, Tyler."

This last sentence barely left your mouth before Tyler was lost in your kiss again, this time with more love than lust like before.

"Well," he said, "I don't want to die without any scars."

"Mission accomplished." You giggled and drew him in once more.

💛🦐

(A/N: I thought this concept of beating Jared Leto's character up and having Tyler think it was cute was something I desperately needed to write into a fanfiction. That was all it was going to be originally, until I read a Cliff Booth fic by @darling-i-read-it and fell in love with their writing towards Cliff's scars. The reader takes her time to go over each one in their story; making sure he feels loved and handsome as she talks about his past. I wanted to do something similar with the reader in my story as the reader is very in love with Tyler Durden. Thank you for inspiring my writing! You're truly one of my favorite creators on this app!!)

You can read their fanfiction here.

I ask you to agree with me

that a scar is never ugly.

Those who create scars want you to think otherwise.

But you and I have to make a pact to stand up to them.

Because from my experience,

Scars mean 'I survived'.