Joseph Nicholson
reminds the audience that nothing is black and white; rather a spectrum of dimly-lit noir Dulux pantone charts all splattered in blood. With examples from his back catalogue including Se7en, The Social Network and House of Cards, it’s realistic to suggest that all of these stories are being played out within the same unsettling universe.
Gone Girl serves as a stark reminder that journeys rarely go from A to B without needing to first visit the context of X, Y and Z and that who we should root for is best left in the hands of someone else.
It is hard to come to terms with the fact that Gone Girl makes cinematic perverts of us all. It points the finger at us and highlights why we are in the wrong. We’re the ones waiting for the bad guys to slip up and get their comeuppance so we can then yell HIP HIP HOORAY! and leave the cinema screens feeling all fuzzy and warm inside, content in the knowledge that those who’ve done wrong will serve their time. Yet, where is the reality in that? How often can we look at our own lives and honestly say everything always works out for the best?
And therein lies your own morbid curiously as a viewer. There’s that itch. You want a slice of the Nick and Amy story as much as the next peeping tom. Just like the police and Detective Boney attempting to get to the bottom of what has happened. Exactly like the camera crews, reporters and television networks speculating and manipulating Nick’s innocence. Did Nick Dunne kill his wife? My advice is to give yourself over to an all access, V.I.P tour of Gone Girl because you will not be disappointed. Be prepared though for a few dark surprises along the way and perhaps discover some unwelcoming truths about yourself.
It’s October and autumnal, evenings are drawing in and light is becoming a luxury. The perfect time for David Fincher to release his eagerly anticipated murky adaptation of Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl.
Set in the Missouri Midwest of the United States, Gone Girl paints a sour tale of a drifting five year marriage desperately trying to remain afloat through a global recession. We’re introduced to the Dunnes (Ben Affleck as Nick, Rosamund Pike as Amy) and given an exclusive, voyeuristic look behind closed doors into their private home life. Both characters intrigue yet remain unreliable; never giving us, the uninvited guests a sense of the whole picture.
Suddenly Amy goes missing and the bumbling, dumbfounded Nick is left watching the police delicately pick up the pieces of his wife’s disappearance and scrutinize his idyllic middle-class suburban home with fine precision and post-it notes. Because they, the investigators, do not want to get blood on their hands – that of course is entirely Nick’s job.
Suddenly Fincher’s world becomes abundant with unreliability, shifty onlookers and weak alibies; no one can be trusted and frankly, no one is particularly welcoming or innocent. There are some truly punchy performances from the supporting cast with the likes of Neil Patrick Harris, Carrie Coon, Tyler Perry and particularly Kim Dickens who plays Detective Rhonda Boney, whose determination to accurately solve the case is both reminiscent of Fincher’s equally brilliant Zodiac and a pleasure to watch.
By the time Nick and Amy’s parents (played by the wonderful Lisa Banes and David Clennon) stand before a press conference, the media has their angle, their opinion, even swaying members of the police force involved in the investigation. ‘You ever hear the expression the simplest answer is often the correct one?’ one bored officer asks to Detective Boney as he watches the Dunne’s story unfold on TV.
Nick continues to dig his own grave in the media spotlight which may or may not be the only grave dug since Amy’s disappearance: it’s unclear. His lack of press training allows him to become the face on the dartboard. The victim shifts from wife to husband and back again because neither Nick nor Amy is exactly who we think they are. I wasn’t the only one in the cinema auditorium screaming, ‘Come on guys, just tell us the truth!’
There is a neat twist to this tale (which of course I shall not spoil) and in true Fincher form
reminds the audience that nothing is black and white; rather a spectrum of dimly-lit noir Dulux pantone charts all splattered in blood. With examples from his back catalogue including Se7en, The Social Network and House of Cards, it’s realistic to suggest that all of these stories are being played out within the same unsettling universe.
Gone Girl serves as a stark reminder that journeys rarely go from A to B without needing to first visit the context of X, Y and Z and that who we should root for is best left in the hands of someone else.
It is hard to come to terms with the fact that Gone Girl makes cinematic perverts of us all. It points the finger at us and highlights why we are in the wrong. We’re the ones waiting for the bad guys to slip up and get their comeuppance so we can then yell HIP HIP HOORAY! and leave the cinema screens feeling all fuzzy and warm inside, content in the knowledge that those who’ve done wrong will serve their time. Yet, where is the reality in that? How often can we look at our own lives and honestly say everything always works out for the best?
And therein lies your own morbid curiously as a viewer. There’s that itch. You want a slice of the Nick and Amy story as much as the next peeping tom. Just like the police and Detective Boney attempting to get to the bottom of what has happened. Exactly like the camera crews, reporters and television networks speculating and manipulating Nick’s innocence. Did Nick Dunne kill his wife? My advice is to give yourself over to an all access, V.I.P tour of Gone Girl because you will not be disappointed. Be prepared though for a few dark surprises along the way and perhaps discover some unwelcoming truths about yourself.
Aesthetic Pleasure 