David Fincher

Gone Girl

Movies provide a familiar comfort for me, even if the subject matter isn’t warm and fuzzy. Thrillers in particular give me a nice buzz of excitement, and they’re my favorite. When I saw the trailer for Gone Girl, I was drawn in by the promise of a suspenseful thriller and thought: my kind of movie. David Fincher has been one of my favorite directors for a long time. From Se7en and Panic Room to his remake of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Fincher has proven time and again that he’s a 21st century master of suspense – no disrespect to the late great Alfred Hitchcock. With Gone Girl, he’s simply outdone himself.

I hadn’t read Gillian Flynn’s novel of the same name, and I went in to the movie ‘cold.’ My opinions are solely based on Fincher’s dramatic interpretation and Flynn’s adapted screenplay. Fincher masterfully manipulated the viewer’s emotions by crafting a very specific perception of the main characters and in the sequential narrative he wanted to tell. The movie opens with no pretense, quickly establishing the essential plot. It’s the day after Independence Day, and Nick Dunne’s wife Amy (Rosamund Pike, The World’s End) has gone missing. Nick (Ben Affleck, Runner Runner) and his twin sister Margo (Carrie Coon, The Leftovers) don’t seem too broken up about her disappearance, though people admittedly express grief and anxiety in different ways. Nick does the “right” things after noticing signs of a struggle at their home by informing the authorities, and he co-operates with their investigation, at least initially.

As the film unfolds, my opinion of Nick began to shift – and this was a testament to an outstanding screenplay from Flynn and flawless direction from Fincher. While people grieve differently, at some point the shock wears off and real emotions come out. That never happened with Nick, and I assumed that he must’ve had something to do with his wife’s disappearance. Circumstantial evidence mounted, and it was apparent from minute one that Nick and Amy weren’t happy. Juxtaposed with current happenings were narrative excerpts from Amy’s diary, and these musings were dramatized through flashbacks. We see how Nick and Amy first met, and witness the undeniable chemistry they once shared. We know that something changed along the way, but for the longest time we don’t know how or when. Nick sure looks guilty, but things aren’t always what they seem.

A movie rife with mystery and twists such as this needn’t be spoiled, so I’ll leave the plot synopsis where it stands. I’ve lauded the writing and direction, but the performances were similarly excellent. For whatever reason (maybe it’s the memory of J. Lo and Gigli), most people don’t think much of Ben Affleck. But I think he’s extremely talented behind the camera (The Town) and in front of it as well. His initial aloofness was contemptible, but as the plot unfolded he became a sympathetic character, and his performance was unwavering. But the real linchpin of this movie was Pike, whose veneer of warmth belied an icy core. Her versatility and depth were impeccably nuanced, and she was a revelation. Even Tyler Perry was impressive as Nick’s shrewd defense attorney. Carrie Coon also made the most of her supporting role, and the entire cast was perfect, from top to bottom. I’ve talked to a couple of people who didn’t like the ending, but for me – a resolution doesn’t have to be popular to be effective. What more can I say? Make this the next movie you see. Grade: A

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo

When it comes to words, I’ll admit that I have a flair for the dramatic.  When I love something, the superlatives flow. Not too long ago I watched a movie on Netflix streaming and proclaimed it one of the best movies I’d ever seen in my life.  That’s that flair for the dramatic I was talking about.  But this time I meant it.  The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo was a slice of noveau noir that any Hitchcock fan would love.  Even the Swedish dialogue and English subtitles didn’t bother me, and that’s saying a lot.

Based on the popular Millennium series’ book of the same name by author Steig Larsson, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo was the harrowing tale of Lisbeth Salander, a computer hacker with a disturbing psychological and criminal history.  Out on some sort of parole, she augments her legit income by moonlighting as a free-lance hacker.  In this capacity she encounters journalist Mikael Blomkvist, while performing a background check on behalf of a wealthy financier named Henrik Vanger.  Vanger wants the journalist to find his long lost niece but must ensure that Blomkvist is fit for the job, given some recent legal troubles.  Lisbeth is hacking Blomkvist, so when he begins to investigate the Vanger disappearance, she does too.  Eventually they team up for what proves to be a mysterious journey into the depths of human depravity.  Lisbeth is dark and brooding on the surface, but her exterior belies a compassion and fortitude that most of the world doesn’t see.  Fiercely resilient and protective, she is a survivor in every sense of the word.  Her physical appearance is a study in contrasts: a thin seemingly fragile frame juxtaposed with harsh piercings and a jagged Mohawk.  Jet-black hair and alabaster skin complete the shocking picture.  In turn, Blomkvist becomes an ally, friend, lover and protector.  His warmth and her initial icy disposition eventually meld together in a natural way, and their chemistry is palpable.

I apologize for rambling on like that, but I needed to convey all of these things about the original version so you’d understand why the updated version from David Fincher (The Social Network, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button) just doesn’t measure up.  The Swedish version was released in 2009.  Are we really remaking 2 year old movies now?  Why, because arrogant Americans can’t bear to read subtitles?  The Swedish version was amazing, and I can understand a phenomenal filmmaker like Fincher wanting to introduce the story to new audiences.  However, when something is fantastic, you have to stay true to it because it’s inherently difficult to improve something that’s already great.  There is source material to work with here.  I have not read the books in the Millennium series, but everyone says that they are fantastic.  Great literary material and a great original cinematic interpretation.  Yet I feel that Fincher found a way to come up short, by comparison.  I saw the movie with two friends who had both read the books but not seen the Swedish version.  One really liked Fincher’s take (I think b/c she had nothing to compare it to) and the other didn’t think it stayed true to the books.  That, my friends spells disappointment.

Despite my dissatisfaction with the movie itself, I want to be clear that I thought the casting and the performances were excellent.  Rooney Mara (The Social Network) and Daniel Craig (Dream House) were great in their roles.  I attribute any lack of chemistry between the two to Fincher, not to their acting.  The original movie did a better job of fleshing out each character’s background and motivation.  We understood why they were drawn to each other and why Lisbeth was so broken after all that she’d endured.  She was a tormented character, and that was not conveyed as ably in the remake.

Perhaps if I hadn’t seen the original version I could let this one stand on its own merits, but I just can’t.  Some things are better left untouched.  When I watched the original I felt like I was watching something special; it was enthralling.  This 2011 version was just another day at the movies: good, but not great.  Try to see the Swedish version first, if you haven’t read the book.  2009 version: A+ 2011 version: B