Gone Girl

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. (10/20/2014)

This seemingly careless directorial style, in which every scene has its place, is slowly starting to bother me. Because it has never been as impersonal in David Fincher's interpretation as it is here. And if a dramatic thriller, whose essence lies in relationships, lacks even a hint of chemistry or tangible emotions between Nick and Amy, that's a disappointment. And if they also lack it in those moments when they are supposed to be a couple in love or overflowing with hatred, I realize that I am not getting nearly as much as I would like – and probably should, considering the topic. The complicated journey of the lost girl and the people around her is significantly less sophisticated or surprising than it promises most of the time. Relationships may be hard work and a science – but they're definitely not like this. (01/02/2015)

Bitching about Fincher playing it safe is like badmouthing Jagr for his hockey finesse and scoring goals. This narrative, directed with the precision of a neurosurgeon, for whom the camera is the scalpel and the music the anesthetic, precisely doses the marital crisis with a cool detachment, in which the apparent waters of detachment are navigated by actors who have every letter of the script pinned directly to their bodies. Affleck's worldliness with the hallmark of a small-town dweeb works, but Rosamund Pike reigns supreme. Their interaction is something you experience on screen once or twice every three years. It’s a perfectly polished film that knows it and isn't ashamed of it. The first and last shots are divine. (10/09/2014)

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. (11/10/2020)

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. (03/05/2015)