Nordling here.
GONE GIRL is a Michelangelo painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel of someone suffering a horrible disease. It's an Ansel Adams photograph of a multi-fatality car accident, with the bodies sprawled across the freeway. If you break down the performances, the cinematography, the script, the score, even the set design, it's impeccably well-made and elegantly staged by David Fincher, who is at the top of his game here. But all that wonderful filmmaking comes together as a poisonous, bitterly mean piece of cinema. There have been accusations that GONE GIRL is misogynistic, which seems very interesting considering the script as well as the novel were written by bestselling author Gillian Flynn (and if GONE GIRL had been written by a man, such arguments might have some merit), but to me, GONE GIRL is full-blown misanthropic; possibly the most misanthropic film since 2007's double-punch of THERE WILL BE BLOOD and NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN. But, while those films show some sympathy (if just a little) for their devils, GONE GIRL has none to spare. Nick and Amy Dunne are both monsters in their respective ways, and GONE GIRL examines them both with all the dispassion that a scientist might study a new microbe in his lab.
These aren't complaints, mind you. While GONE GIRL on its surface comes across as trashy and devoid of morality, Fincher (with Gillian Flynn's wonderful script, based on her novel) isn't that kind of filmmaker. Satire only works when you can ponder the principle behind fiction's lies with true detachment, and Fincher understands the pulp nature of the source material and successfully mines it for meaning and truth. GONE GIRL is wickedly funny, even moving at times, but Fincher never lets the audience off the hook. By putting this trainwreck of a marriage on display, Fincher forces us to consider our own relationships - the little bits of damage we do to each other, the growing apathy that even the strongest bonds can undergo, and while the Dunnes' journey in GONE GIRL goes to the extreme, we are always reminded that it wasn't always thus. The most rancid hate we can have for another person always starts from a place of passion, and even love. GONE GIRL is a horror film where we are witness to the possibilities of that horror in our own lives.
GONE GIRL wouldn't work on the level that it does if it wasn't anchored by Ben Affleck and Rosamund Pike as Nick and Amy Dunne. Affleck's Nick reels in the audience with sympathy, but then the frozen pond cracks under our feet and we are plunged into chilling darkness. Affleck never fully reveals his hand, and as the story progresses we are never quite sure if we can trust Nick, or loathe him. It's a career best performance, and I can't wait to see what Affleck pulls from his work here with Fincher to his own directing career. Pike complement's Affleck's performance here with a powerhouse achievement of her own. Without spoiling, Amy Dunne is a complicated creature, more than the spoiled rich girl persona that she puts on display for others, yet strangely fragile. When all the pieces of GONE GIRL's puzzle are on full display, Pike gives us a character that will be discussed heavily during awards season. Nothing in Pike's past work has suggested the multiple levels that she brings to Amy Dunne here, and she commands the screen.
Fincher has a strong affinity for all the actors in GONE GIRL, and there isn't a bad performance among any of them. One of the best of them is Tyler Perry's Tanner Bolt, an attorney that Nick calls in when things go south for him, and Perry brings lots of humor and intelligence to the role (and gets one of the film's best lines). Carrie Coon as Margo, Nick's twin sister, helps us feel sympathy for Nick, but as the plot progresses, even she begins to question Nick's motives, and Coon and Affleck have a great rapport together. Neil Patrick Harris plays Desi Collings, a former boyfriend of Amy, and Harris walks a fine line between sympathetic and sinister, and there are scenes in the film involving him that will likely garner the most controversy and discussion. Kim Dickens plays Detective Rhonda Boney as the noble character amongst GONE GIRL's rogue's gallery, and Dickens is impressive as she tries to navigate the truth of things in a world where the perception of the story is more important than the actual facts. Even Patrick Fugit's dumb-as-a-stump cop brings levity to what could have been a dour affair.
Jeff Cronenweth's cinematography is elegant and clinical; it reminded me of Stanley Kubrick, as his camera dispassionately examines the proceedings. It's one of Fincher's best looking films, and Cronenweth has always done fine work with him. I love how the look changes throughout the course of the film, and the false warmth that Cronenweth gives certain scenes is juxtaposed with the cold, unfeeling sheen he gives other moments. The tremendous score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross must be addressed; it's the best work the two have done together, and that's saying something. I love how the score sounds almost traditional at the beginning, and as the movie progresses we hear the discordant melody of chaos take over. the score adds weight to important scenes, but not in the expected ways. It feels honest to the moment.
I feel like I may have to revisit GONE GIRL once the movie opens and its secrets are revealed to the world. There are discussions to be had - if the movie is misogynistic or not, certain aspects of Amy Dunne's character, every scene that Neil Patrick Harris is in. Considering recent controversies, and the changing attitudes towards women, some of GONE GIRL seems shockingly dated, and could be seen by the wrong pair of eyes as justification for rotten behavior and beliefs. I'm sure that isn't an accident, and that Gillian Flynn and David Fincher were well aware of the reactions that audiences will have. Certain groups, like men's rights activists, will have a field day with GONE GIRL. Maybe that's the point. Maybe GONE GIRL is a blinding light forcing all the roaches to scatter and to reveal themselves. At the very least, post-film discussion between couples should be interesting.
The film doesn't offer answers, as it shouldn't; at the end of the day, GONE GIRL is a potboiler in the oldest storytelling tradition. But Fincher has found something substantial in its story, and brings to light uncomfortable truths. Like Francis Ford Coppola with THE GODFATHER, or Steven Spielberg with JAWS, Fincher has made greatness out of the material that a lesser filmmaker could not have done. GONE GIRL is a hateful, candy-coated razor blade of a film, but perhaps it could be medicine as well. Perhaps the wounds that GONE GIRL inflicts upon marriage are best healed through exposure, and not hidden away. This is one of the year's best films.
Nordling, out.
