You Don't Know What You've Got Till It's...

Rating: 9/10 (4 October 2014)

A lot of people might describe Gone Girl as a roller coaster ride. One of those movies that is in constant flux causing your stomach to tie up in knots. But it's really more of a maze. It's dark and brooding and sometimes it changes suddenly and unexpectedly, and sometimes we get lost, but the more lost we get the better. In the movie Amazing Amy Elliot Dunne has gone missing from her small town suburban Missouri home and the search to find her alive or dead begins a thrilling odyssey, where lives are ruined and each clue births a new mystery to be solved.
But despite it's entertaining, ever shifting, half mystery half thriller angle, this is all just a cover for what the film is really about. The truth is, the only person we'll ever really know in our lives is ourselves. When we look into someone else's eyes there is no way of knowing what calculating clockwork might lay beyond. Even someone we love, someone we've grown up or grown old with, can become a total stranger. This is what the real heart of the movie is about: the ever changing masks we choose to wear. Because in truth we're all actors and we're always tailoring our performances to the audiences present. In the movie, Nick plays the part of the gallant boyfriend turned perfect husband, while Amy plays the part of the cool girlfriend turned wife.
And after Amy disappears the focus becomes Nick's performance. How is he acting? Is he smiling at a time like this? Why doesn't he seem more concerned? His sister reminds him that he should look a little disheveled so that it appears he's had a long sleepless night while worrying for his lost wife. He's coached by lawyer Tanner Bolt to play the part of the f*ck up husband begging for forgiveness. All the while Amy plays the part of the abused housewife, the quintessential missing upper middle class white lady. And by the movie's end the characters will shed their old masks and don new ones, even more gruesome and terrifying than before. No one is really interested in the truth (except perhaps Nick, to a certain extent) and there is no justice. But how can there be justice in a world that is stained by the mainstream media and the Nancy Graces of the world, who act as judges of abstract character traits rather than anything concrete.
Ben Affleck and Rosamund Pike are quite honestly astounding in their performances. As the movie starts both actors seem to be wooden, robotic and inauthentic. But as the movie progresses we start to see the humans behind the facade, the true characters of Amy and Nick, if only for small fractions at a time before they sink back into their roles be it the witty writer, the poor woman from New Orleans, or the loving couple with a fresh start. And David Fincher is able to adeptly guide us along this labyrinth, keeping us on the edge of our seats and never challenging us to sit back and turn our brains off as the gears click. Aided by meticulous editing, beautiful silver coated cinematography and an often mellow, entrancing score, we're pulled into this dark saga that's less about finding the girl that's gone missing, but rather discovering the souls of these melancholy people trapped in some kind of awful twilight. But as Fincher takes us deeper into this mystery, as he uncovers mask after mask trying to reach something real we become resigned to the fact that we all have something to hide. It's not just Nick. There's a little bit of villain inside all of us, and we just have to keep covering it up, because god forbid anyone see us for what we truly are.