Gone
Girl is without a doubt an innovative modern Film Noir with a unique David Fincher touch.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had
been to a mainstream movie theatre, where the carpeting is coated with sticky
soda and the odor of stale popcorn permeates the air. The line for the tickets
was never-ending. Gone Girl was sold
out twice, I went to the 10:30 pm screening instead of the one I was aiming for
at 8:30 pm. I (wisely) chose to return half an hour before the show, hoping to
find a seat. Three escalators and several corridors later I arrived at the
“balcony” area of Theatre number four. I stood in a line once more. People grew
impatient. I noticed someone trying to get his friends to cut in line with him,
but there was zero tolerance among the angry mob. A fight almost broke out, “Your
friends should wait at the back like everyone else,” a tall college guy said,
holding his large coke in one hand and girlfriend in the other, to which the
other guys replied, “You can go ahead of me if you don’t want them to cut in
front of you.” The discussion went on endlessly for a few minutes, until the
line started moving, and everyone headed towards the theatre in a rapid
military fashion. There were at least one hundred of us up there (I looked down
and saw twice as many seats in the main theatre space). Coats, hats, and
scarves were placed to save seats for those yet to come. I settled for one seat
left, settled between two couples. The
couple on my left had a great big bucket of popcorn, the young man would plunge
his mouth into the bucket instead of reaching in with his hand. This was a lot
more entertaining to watch than the endless previews for TV shows, Iphone Apps,
M&Ms… We were blessed with three movie trailers, and then Gone Girl with no introduction, suddenly
began just after a faint fade out.
The room grew silent instantly. Not a peep
was heard, even from the popcorn munchers. David Fincher was casting his dark spell.
I remember how I felt after watching Fight
Club, and Se7en for the first
time. I was a teenager then, and never felt quite the same again after. His
mystery twists remained with me forever. Little did I know that Gone Girl would be his lengthiest and darkest
twist yet.
Paul Schrader defines Film Noir as “subtle qualities of tone and mood” in his Notes on Film Noir. For this, Schrader
reminds us of Film Noir as a means of
representing darkness through highly stylized visual esthetics. This is
flagrant in Gone Girl through the
multiple usages of crane shots, or slow travelling camera-movements. The shaky handheld
filmic look is never once used. Schrader writes, “we move cinematographically,”
as opposed to with the characters. Indeed, the film progresses with a constant
fluid rhythm, also due to the atmospheric music byTrent Reznor (loyal Fincher composer for Se7en, The Social Network, The Girl
with the Dragon Tattoo) and Atticus Ross (also composed The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and The Social Network) as opposed to a
spoken soundtrack. There is a muted color palate, no excessive bright colors
are to be seen. This is emblematic in the first kissing scene, when Nick Dunne
(Ben Affleck)
kisses his wife to be in the alleyway. They are surrounded by floating powdered
sugar. Amy’s
(Rosamund Pike) face becomes pale from the sugar, and Nick prints two fingers
on her lips, before kissing them. At first sight, the powdered sugar creates a
poetic and enchanting vision. However, there is a serious tone behind
everything in Film Noir. The paleness of the powered sugar brings out a
corpse-like expression. In fact, the tone is similar to her corpse which we see
floating in the water. Once more, an allusion to Film Noir and the Freudian fascination for water.
Film
Noir was highly used in the 1940s and 50s to
portray a world of “dark, slick, city streets crime and corruption.” Most of
these actions took place at night. David Fincher redefines the noir tone by spreading it across the
whole film, day and night. He respects Schrader’s noir hero, who “survives by the day,” by skillfully playing with
the “complex chronological order.” The film indicates precise date and time
from the very beginning. We are informed right away of Amy and Nick’s fifth
wedding anniversary. Titles throughout the film divide and explain the exact
chronology of past, present and future.
Fincher provokes his audience by giving an
extensive emphasis on the twist of the plot rather than taking us through a
traditional linear narrative. Gone Girls
is really two films in one. Fincher masters his audience by forcing us to
explore two sides of the story through his character’s point of views. I was
never convinced by Ben Affleck’s performance, although I did appreciate the
effort he put into Argo. I felt the same with
the casting choice of Neil Patrick Harris, for the stereotypes associated with
his usual comical roles in How I Met Your
Mother, and Harold and Kumar go to
White Castle. Fincher knew better. He knew Ben Affleck’s character
couldn’t make the “murderer” cut, and indeed he was perfect for the role of the
generic, constant, yet vulnerable hero. His character mentions it himself when
being interviewed by the media, “I am not a murderer, but I am far from being perfect.” The
choice of Neil Patrick Harris turns out to be more than effective as we can’t
help but feel a hint of pity for his character. In a way, his character is Barney Stinson (from How I met your Mother) with a twist, as if he were hopelessly in love
and punished for being so – nothing close to being a laughing matter. Rosamund
Pike is convincing as ever, with or without makeup, psychopath or lucid.
David Fincher strikes again, with a spot-on
job of cast. His characters have no set boundaries. We are drawn to the
characters in such a way that the movie deviates slightly from the noir theory to a psychological drama:
it’s no longer cinematographically driven but character driven. Yet the noir is undeniably omnipresent in other
ways until the very end of the film. For instance, the looped first and last
scenes with Ben Affleck’s voice over, “I wish I could break my wife’s skull,” embodies
the everlasting noir mood: What is she really thinking? She could
strike at any time, but we will never know when and how. By repeating that scene David Fincher leads us
to a false interpretation of the characters. Initially the scene suggests that Ben Affls
intentions are dangerous. However the second time around, at the end of the
film, we are aware of the context of the plot, and know who the real psycho
killer is out among the two.
The film ends abruptly. No sudden moves or
shouts are to be heard; only gasps and sighs of disbelief. The viewer remains awe stricken, haunted with
intrigue and fascination.
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