Hola all. Massawyrm here.

Okay, before I begin this review I just want to say two words. Panic Room. There. Now I said it. Now the complete infallibility of David Fincher has been called into question. You can’t scream “But he’s a Genius!” at the screen without accounting for Panic Room. Was Panic Room bad? God no. But it certainly wasn’t Fight Club. Or Seven. It had flaws, big ones. But if you’re the type of person who feels that Panic Room is an underrated, unappreciated masterpiece – then you’re gonna love this. Because this is MUCH better than Panic Room.

Problem is, it’s still no Fight Club and nowhere near Seven.

Zodiac is a film comprised of superb, well-crafted pieces. There is not a single piece that you can pull out, analyze and juxtapose to any other piece and find to be flawed. Every single piece of this movie is eloquent, well thought out and perfectly executed. So what’s the problem? There’re just too many pieces. About an hour’s worth.

What we have here is a really great directors cut – a film that would be loved and revered by an audience that saw the ‘studio’s version’ first. The hour and 45 minute version. The version cut by an editor that knew what story the audience wanted to see. You see, there is a really great story here, but this is a story for completists. This is EVERYTHING you ever wanted to know about the Zodiac murders, except who definitively did it. They have a theory, of course, but this is about presenting ALL the evidence. This is Robert Graysmith’s book laid out. This is an historical EPIC…that just happens to be set only about 35-40 years ago.

And like most historical epics, this movie fails by trying to tell ALL of the story, rather than just the part that matters to this particular film. Contextually, historically, does everything here matter? Sure. Contextually, cinematically, does it? No. This movie is about Robert Graysmith (Gyllenhaal.) It pretty much begins with the story of Graysmith’s obsession with the Zodiac case and it certainly ends with his obsession with the Zodiac case. But somewhere in-between it becomes Detective David Toschi’s (Ruffalo) story, while wandering through several other small stories. And it’s all great stuff. Every last bit of it. It’s just too much. The story loses focus, and the audience begins to wonder what it is they’re watching. I mean what the hell happened to Graysmith? Oh wait, there he is! Oh, he’s gone again.

The second act is entirely a tale of interwoven stories that, while properly relaying the mounting frustration and obsession, also properly conveys the tedium of dead end leads. After dead end lead. After dead end lead. After dead end lead. Which…surprise, surprise…picks back up the moment we return to the story of Graysmith. In fact, this film could be a wonderful film if it were just the first, third and portions of the second act. Wait. Wonderful? No. It could be awesome. This is one of those films I can’t wait to see edited by some third year film student on his laptop.

The film this most reminded of was, oddly enough, Almost Famous. The first time I watched the theatrical cut of it, I just plain dug it. But I wasn’t IN LOVE with it yet. I wanted more. Then I watched the Bootleg Cut and drank in every single character that I needed to fall in love with. I became rabid about my love for the film. And yet, watching that cut, I understood that I NEEDED to watch the theatrical cut first. I needed to see the hero’s journey before watching the version that wanders away with secondary and tertiary characters for minutes at a time. Because the Bootleg Cut could just DRAG for anyone not already in love with the characters or material.

Now let me be very clear. This isn’t a bad movie – it’s a great movie that loses its focus. And at times makes you want to check your watch. I mean, this is a 160-minute film. Think about that for a moment. You’re about to get on board with a 160-minute detective film that can’t tell you who the killer really is because no one knows for certain. The Zodiac is the 20th century’s Jack the Ripper. He didn’t have the highest body count, nor were his the grisliest of murders. But he was flashy, he scared the living shit out of people and we never found him. So he became legend.

And he ruined a lot of lives – outside of the victims and their families. Men who became obsessed with bringing him to justice. Men who ruined their lives chasing him. This movie struggles to show several of them, taking you to the point at which each man finally gives up, leaving only one obsessed man standing. And really, it only needs to focus on the last man, Graysmith. I feel like I would have enjoyed this a lot more if we just followed his journey, watched the investigation through his eyes, rather than through those of multiple characters. If we met all of these wonderful characters as he does, rather than sometimes 10 years before he does, I feel like they would have been much more potent and the story would have felt more alive.

So what works? Everything else. Visually it’s fantastic. This is a very toned down David Fincher – one that seems to have learned his lesson from his gimmick-heavy run in Panic Room. Sure there’s new stylistic choices here, and man are they something. But they never dominate the story or get done more than they should (coughcoughwallsocketflythroughscough.) They’re just right. This is the David Fincher we fell in love with visually. He does an amazing job setting the years and giving the whole movie this very All the President’s Men look and feel. And he progresses through time with incredible ease. And hell, he even manages to make you feel the tastelessness of a classic film. A film you love. You hear clips from the movie and shrink into your seat. Because you see the movie in a context you may never have.

And every single performance in here is fantastic. Gyllenhaal is wonderful and does a great job transforming from starry-eyed kid to bitter, obsessed investigator. Mark Ruffalo gives a great, layered performance we probably shouldn’t have seen most of, as we watch him get more and more tired until he just plain gives up. As good as he is (hell, as good as he most always is) his character is really the grossest indulgence of the film. Which is sad because he is so god damned good. And then there’re a slew of great supporting roles by a number of my deep fried favorites – Elias Koteas, Donal Logue, Phillip Baker Hall, Clea DuVall, Robert Downey Jr., Brian Cox. Every last one of them marvelous.

But ultimately it is just too much. It’s like a night at the buffet after having had two plates too many. The whole thing is spoiled because Fincher couldn’t show any restraint. Even at almost three hours, he still feels the need to lay on about three pages of text to wrap the whole thing up. I think his eyes were bigger than his stomach this time around. Sadly, there won’t be a toned down edited version out there for people to begin with, then move onto this if they are so inclined. It doesn’t work that way. The extended directors cut is the version in theatres, and this time around, I wish it weren’t.

Until next time friends, smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em.

Massawyrm

Woot! I got through the whole review without spelling it Se7en…oh fucking hipster hell…