Review: Gone Girl

David Fincher is the man. He's hands down my favourite director. Not all of his movies are winners, but he's yet to make a bad film. I like him best in the realm of the gritty crime thriller, preferably with serial killers. So how does his adaptation of Gillian Flynn's missing wife bestseller Gone Girl compare to the likes of Se7en or Zodiac? Stick with me!

With his wife's disappearance having become the focus of an intense media circus, a man sees the spotlight turned on him when it's suspected he might not be innocent.

First off, Gone Girl is in every way the quintessential David Fincher movie. Every frame oozes the director's trademark style and presence. And while on the surface this might not seem like the kind of tale he usually tells, it's still more Zodiac or even Fight Club than The Social Network.

How so? That damn ending. Yeah, it's not going to blow up everyone's skirt, nor is it the commercial resolution mainstream audiences want, but Fincher doesn't make commercial movies. Nor does he play it safe just because he's making a big studio picture. I get why people are pissed off by it, but I love how fucked up Gone Girl got by the time it played out.

This isn't a typical, edge-of-your-seat thriller. It's a slow burn that takes patience and a viewer who shares Fincher's cynical view of the world. He and I must be related, because I ate this flick up.

Everything worked for me, from the cinematography to the editing and acting. Ben Affleck continues to impress on his path to becoming an actor and filmmaker we can take seriously. As for Gone Girl herself, Rosamund Pike, I loved and hated her at the same time. Well played. Well played.

This isn't the kind of flick you watch again and again. But it's damn near perfect and something to revisit on an annual or semi-annual basis. It's Good.