David Fincher is perhaps the most unique director working today in modern day cinema, being one of the few filmmakers to gain the trust of studio heads, critics, and audiences. But Fincher’s strongest movie isn’t the massively popular Fight Club or the Facebook-expose The Social Network, but Zodiac, a slow-burning mystery that underperformed at the box office and didn’t receive the press either two of those picture did. Zodiac does not aim at populist acceptance; it’s not a blood and guts picture like any of the other number of films made about the Zodiac killer, but a comprehensive investigation that becomes so real and enthralling it feels like you’re in the picture. At over two and a half hours, it was too long for most viewers to embrace, but it’s David Fincher at his tightest and most detailed, evidence of the director’s perfectionist style.
Fincher’s newest picture, Gone Girl, shares much in common with Zodiac, not just because it has a similar story but the same style, featuring a high-profile cast, extremely sharp digital cinematography, and an icy-cold mood (the latter can be attributed to Trent Reznor’s and Atticus Ross’ industrial score). Based on Gillian Flynn’s novel of the same name, Gone Girl centers on Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck), who on his fifth wedding anniversary discovers his wife Amy (Rosamund Pike) is missing. After Nick alerts the police, we soon discover that Nick and Amy’s marriage has recently grown sour, and through flashbacks discover the deteriorating relationship between the two and how this pertains to Amy’s sudden disappearance.
Just around 45 minutes through Gone Girl, Flynn’s screenplay makes a sudden reveal that changes the mood and atmosphere rest of the picture. Despite the heavy publicity of the twist, I fortunately managed to enter the theater without being warned before. While I do not wish to spoil the plot to anyone who hasn’t seen the picture yet, I will say that two significant characters appear in the second half, a famous defense attorney (Tyler Perry) and one of Amy’s previous ex-boyfriends (Neil Patrick Harris). Their sudden entrance into the picture makes the film transition to a shocking, Se7en-like conclusion (though far less violent).
While Gone Girl is an astute analysis about the psyche of the human mind, it’s also a vicious satire of the media. With the growth of social media and cable news, controversial trials are blasted into the eyes and ears of today’s society, from O. J. Simpson’s hearing back in the mid-90s to Casey Anthony’s one a few years ago, and how these figures become public celebrities of sorts. Oliver Stone examined this concept in Natural Born Killers, but unlike that movie, Gone Girl doesn’t become overly mean-spirited or nasty. Fincher, a subtler director than Stone, isn’t bombastic with his metaphor, instead emphasizing the parallels between the two.
Indeed, Fincher’s bleak tone is evident throughout as the picture and rivals the horror and intensity of that of Michael Haneke. His cast certainly fits the parts presented to them. Affleck represents the average American man, Pike a loving, doting spouse, and Carrie Coon (who plays Nick’s sister) a loyal sibling. Even Tyler Perry, in the most fish-out-of-water role since Adam Sandler’s turn in Punch-Drunk Love, is surprisingly good, offering a few bits of comic relief as well as the grave reality. The only outlier to the cast is Neil Patrick Harris, a talented actor, but one who doesn’t fit quite into place with his character.
Of all things considered, Gone Girl is a great picture, perhaps Fincher’s best since Zodiac. With its haunting conclusion and twisting plot, it poses to prove to grow even better after a second viewing, something I hope to discover soon.
