A thriller with lashings of murder, mystery and mayhem that thrills in more ways than you'd expect.

Rating: 8/10 (23 October 2014)

David Fincher is a great director - but not really one you would associate with the notions of marriage, romance and love. His name is more characteristically attached to dark thrillers exploring the depths of human depravity: the way a serial killer relentlessly hunts his prey in Se7en, for instance, or the curdling of friendship through the creation of a billion-dollar enterprise in The Social Network. Why, then, has Fincher turned his attention to Gone Girl? Because this tale exploring marriage, romance and love - adapted from Gillian Flynn's best-selling novel of the same title - tucks itself perfectly into his wheelhouse. Fincher brews an intoxicatingly bitter stew out of Flynn's characters and ideas, blending tragedy, loss and even farce into a fascinating film that's as shocking, bleak and entertaining as it is thought-provoking.
Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) wakes up one day to find that his wife Amy (Rosamund Pike) has mysteriously disappeared. It's perhaps ironic - or fitting - that he spent the morning complaining about their upcoming fifth anniversary to his twin sister Margo (Carrie Coon). Soon, the police are investigating Amy's disappearance, and clues start quite literally popping up that suggest she might very well have been kidnapped... or killed. As details of his souring marriage begin to come to light, Nick finds himself morphing from desperate husband into potential murder suspect in the blink of an eye and the turn of a media cycle. But Amy's side of the story yields new suspects, including her obsessive ex-boyfriend Desi (Neil Patrick Harris), and twists that go deeper and darker than anyone would expect.
These days, films emerging from Hollywood fall easily into categories and genres - but not Gone Girl. The first half of the film is a taut, tense thriller, a grim whodunnit which colours details and doubt into the mystery surrounding Amy's disappearance. Nick and Margo speak of Amy with a surprising callousness, whereas Amy's diary entries paint a picture of a fairytale romance gone awry. We watch Nick kiss Amy in a sugar-storm outside a bakery, even as it becomes harder to believe in his innocence after she disappears.
Then, as more clues are unearthed and the plot deepens, Fincher spins his film into the realm of satire. Before he even comes to trial, Nick finds himself sorely tested in the court of public opinion. He flashes an awkward smile next to a poster of his wife, and is immediately branded as a callous murderer by gossipy news anchor Ellen Abbott (Missi Pyle). He charms his way through an interview with reporter Sharon Schieber (Sela Ward), and somehow manages to wrest back the sympathy he's lost. It's a delicate game of styling oneself for public view - a notion all the more relevant in the media-obsessed era of Facebook and Instagram in which we now live.
That's not all, however - the finest, and possibly most disturbing, element of Gone Girl is the strain of pitch-black humour that runs right through it. Nick and Amy are tied - nay, trapped - together by their personalities, their choices, their circumstances; strictly speaking, it should play out as a tragedy. Instead, Fincher almost effortlessly finds the horrible, dark comedy of it all. In the midst of this strangely effective blend of high melodrama and bitter farce, Fincher even hits upon quite a few home truths. He may be painting an extreme portrait of a dysfunctional marriage in Gone Girl, but the myriad ways in which a far less unusual pair of people can trap each other in love, lust and lies come through very clearly anyway.
Fincher is known to be a taskmaster with his actors, but they'd probably agree it works out for the best here. He teases a remarkably sensitive and ambiguous performance out of Affleck, who plays the shadows that lurk within Nick with just enough charm to have anyone believe that he's maligned - or very guilty indeed. It's a fine line to walk, but he pulls it off. Pike, who's spent much of her career drifting beautifully through films while never quite giving away too much of herself as an actor, delivers a career- defining performance as Amy. From the well-bred socialite of her parents bestselling' 'Amazing Amy' books, through to the sad, bitter wife who wants more from Nick than he can give her, Pike plays every shade of the character - from light to dark - with astounding skill.
The final film can feel disjointed and inexplicable to some. What, precisely, is Fincher trying to say with this film that flits from genre to genre? It's not a straight-up thriller, and its social commentary comes so wickedly barbed that it might be missed completely as the layers of crime and mystery are peeled away. But take it for what it is - a dizzying, occasionally brilliant study of the institution of marriage, taking to terrifying, hilarious extremes the question of whether we can ever really trust the people we claim to love - and Gone Girl is a thrilling, electric and very unusual treat.