Gone Girl

Like Paul Thomas Anderson, David Fincher is moving toward an increasingly subdued and austere form of perfection in his directing. After the first part of their respective filmographies, which was characterised by ostentatious formal bombast culminating, in Fincher’s case, in Panic Room with abundant playing with flying camerawork in flawless reality-defying approaches, greater efficiency and modesty are increasingly becoming hallmarks of their later films. That doesn’t mean that Fincher and Anderson have become some sort of ascetics, but only that their mastery is reflected in the fact that they do not in any way attract attention to themselves. We could almost mention the return of studio style, where the form also served to maximally draw viewers into the story and did not have to draw attention to itself, except this time it’s not a matter of following certain conventional rules, but expressing flawless familiarisation with the craft and maximally well-though-out composition of every shot so that it serves the work as a whole. Gone Girl is Fincher’s riveting masterclass on outwitting viewers, where at the same time we are astonished not only by the narrative (typically about characters who deceive those around them and inventively work with their own image), but also by how seemingly easily and subtly the film guides us and keeps us chained to the screen and holding our breath throughout its runtime. (11/11/2020)

Who wouldn't want to open their wife's skull and see what's going on inside it? Best Fincher since 2007. Especially the first half is brilliant. The way in which Fincher managed to elegantly embody two unreliable book narrators into exciting cinematic speech is worthy of (un) academic admiration. Especially since the film does not achieve the stratification and urgency of the book, but it is able to balance it with predatory irony and scathing exaggeration. Criticism of the crises of a troubled society, which is oriented only by reflections and media images, is carried out with ease and without any lameness. I have problems more so with the second half, which is slightly camp, and, especially through the irresistibly psychopathic caricature of the main character, the film makes its work a little easier when it runs from subtle social criticism and attentive satire of a marital crisis to shocking twists. Moreover, in some of the "dark" scenes, it seems as if Ben Affleck (deprived of the opportunity to defend himself with his smile) reaches the limits of his acting. I can't say that Fincher convinces me indefinitely about the meaningfulness of all of the parts of his game, but I admit, without torture, that even taking into account the complexity of the original and all the pitfalls of the material, my initially slightly indifferent attitude transformed into deep recognition. I’d like to watch this Gone Bitch again after some time has passed. (30/09/2014)

So this is the drama that made everyone pee their pants in bliss? It's impersonal, cold, both of them deserve to be slapped. I liked the character of the detective and the sister of the accused the best – there seemed to be some character to them. But otherwise it's like walking through a fog. It might feel nice at first, coming out of the warmth of your home, but as time goes on you realize you can't actually see anything and you feel the same thing all the time. No twist. Nothing to delight you. It's a film about how manipulation, callousness, and emotional apathy win out. Is that a reflection of the US? Europe? The world? When I think about it that way, it's disgusting. But that's about the only emotion the film evoked in me. Otherwise, nothing. A blank void. In the fog. But it's shot with precision, no question. (05/03/2015)

Gone Girl is a compact mosaic of events chiseled to perfection. Surgically confident and precisely timed in every scene and every shot. That is why, and for my admiration of David Fincher’s talent, I regret that it is also very cold and impersonal. That it does not allow the audience to engage, only to observe from a distance. That’s all part of the maestro’s game, but it’s a shame. Electronic music composers Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross once gave the musical identity to the world of heroes who created an internet phenomenon out of ones and zeros. Original and effective. But what is this detached, chemical-like music doing in the story of a relationship between two people? Wouldn’t Gone Girl be an even better movie had it been driven by passion and emotion? It is a film about the disintegration of a marriage that looks and sounds the same as Steven Soderbergh’s thriller about a lethal global virus. (20/10/2014)

When an author adapts his own (so complex) work for the silver screen, it rarely bodes well because there is too much personal involvement. This doesn’t apply to Flynn, who wasn’t afraid of cutting up and changing her "mirror holding, not-so-much-crime-thriller, satirical, cynical bestseller about relationships" to suit the needs of another medium. So she got rid of everything not directly related to the central storyline. Due to this there is drastically less about those two (and so the main snag with the original book, that these two are puppets who behave according to the momentary needs of the story and that they aren’t living characters, becomes much more apparent) and more about the investigation storyline and the influence of the media on public opinion. And so the movie did include Nick’s unfulfilled ambitions as a writer and Amy’s magazine quizzes in everyday practice. Even the diary entries are edited to the bare minimum; it’s simply whittled down to a stump. And as much as this approach didn’t work in the book, the better it works on the movie screen; especially Fincher’s so apt, coolly depersonalized concept which is taken a level higher by the disquieting hypnotic background music from the Reznor/Ross duo. In any case, the most important parts of the book remained. The evolution of the Nick/Amy relationship is cleverly written, like the best horoscopes. I mean in a way that any couple in a long term relationship can recognize themselves in some respect (I’m talking about the first half here). And in this situation you might take it personally, because this creates the impression that "this could happen to you too". If it isn’t happening already... (01/10/2014)