directed by David Fincher
David Fincher’s winding, rabbit hole mind fuck of a whodunit is as aggravatingly unsatisfying as it is excellent. By unsatisfying, I mean completely satisfying (for me, that is), though I have heard the usual complaints to the contrary about the near 3 hour thriller. Yes, there are a lot of loose ends, a lot of unexplained oddities, a lot of strange dead ends, and the cussing killer never gets caught. Well, you know what? That’s life. Fincher’s obsession with minutia is telling and superb when it comes to constructing a past that actually happened, even fretting over a thread’s width of one of the Zodiac’s disguises, and Fincher’s flare for dysfunction, intrigue, and the slippery slope of a zealot’s fervor seems to crystallize here in this film about a sticky multiple murder case that remains unsolved to this day. Anthony Edwards, Brian Cox, Elias Koteas, Chloe Sevigny. I am going to stop name dropping all the amazing performances in this film, but Mark Ruffalo and Jake Gyllenhaal find the haunted core of each of their characters. And the gold medals go to the ever arrogant genius of Robert Downey Jr. and John Carroll Lynch. Lynch gives a performance that will make your skin crawl, and that’s all I am going to say about that. Fincher’s eye is meticulous and deliciously warped, and as long as he focuses his attention on the darkness instead of the light (again, I have to mention the train wreck of Benjamin Button. Ugh, what shit), he finds himself in a very small and very amazing group of cinematic talent.
Note: If you ever want to get a load of early Fincher need to check out his video for Aerosmith’s Janie’s Got a Gun, a music video that resembles what I can only imagine to be one of James Spader’s coked up night terrors. Fantastic.