Based
on the hugely successful Gillian Flynn novel of the same name, director David
Fincher’s adaptation of Gone Girl was without doubt one of the most hotly
anticipated film releases of the year. The advertising and PR campaign has been
colossal, and there are already loud (very loud) whisperings of Best Picture nominations.
As one
of the biggest Flynn fans going, as well as someone prone to negatively judge
adaptations of books with the all the conviction of somebody watching their local Waterstones be burned down to make way for a Vue, I was more than a
little concerned that the film would fall neatly into the trap of not living up
to its own hype.
In an attempt to summarise the plot without giving away too many spoilers, the
story focuses on Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) a teacher and ex-journalist who, on
the day of his fifth wedding anniversary, discovers that his wife, Amy,
(Rosamund Pike) is missing. He returns home from the bar he runs with his
sister Margo (Carrie Coon) to find a crime scene in his living room. It looks
like a break-in, although the police, when he eventually gets around to calling
them, don’t seem so sure.
As his
reaction to his wife’s disappearance grows increasingly out of synch and
bizarre, and with him seeming to have little to no clue about her life when
he’s out of the house, the finger of suspicion of both the police, represented
by a truly excellent Kim Dickens as the wonderful Detective Rhonda, as well as the
media begins to point to him.
Is he
just a mam struggling to come to terms with his missing soul-mate, or is
something more sinister at play here? Throughout, we gain insight into their,
perhaps not quite as idyllic as it seemed, marriage via extracts from the diary
of the missing Amy. Largely taken directly from the book, these give us a
window into the darker side of Nick Dunne, but can we trust this either?
There
are plenty of complex ideas to deliver here, with crime, the recession and
marriage all coming under the spotlight, but Fincher ticks every box with
immense style. The cinematography is a dream, perfectly capturing the slightly
patched-together nature of mid-west, small-town Americana that is Flynn’s
calling card, and using colour beautifully to suggest the different
perspectives and time periods as we move between the present day of Amy’s
disappearance, the diary pieces and the early days their relationship.
This
is complemented by a slick, darkly comic script, adapted by Flynn herself, as
well as some truly brilliant performances from the key cast. Rosamund Pike presents
an arrogant absent-ness to the character of Amy, a character who has all her life
been fictionalised by her doting parents in their ‘Amazing Amy’ series, a
character who knows other way but to play pretend her own life. Both Fincher’s subtly brilliant direction and
Pikes performance expertly realise the creepily unusual, the almost Carter-esque
fairytale anti-heroines that are Flynn’s speciality. There is a certain head
movement from her, in a certain scene (I’ll give you a clue, the scene is the
reason the film is rated 18), which I really think is the most effective moment
in the entire film.
Neil
Patrick Harris shines as Amy’s creepy, unavoidably camp ex-boyfriend, and Ben
Affleck is perfectly cast everyman Nick, caught up in events he doesn’t quite
understand, although with sinister undertones. I do think, though, that his
character could have been pushed further. He could perhaps have benefited from
more anger, the stress and dislike of those around him, particularly women, running
closer to the surface than it is here. In the book, Nick is really our central
perspective, but here he is outshone, appropriately enough, by his dazzling
wife.
Haunting,
and unsatisfying in all the right places, Gone Girl gets its tone exactly
right.
Certain
elements could have been taken further, in order for it to make more of a
statement about its key ideas. Character rather than theme seems to be the key
focus here, but it would have been good to see slightly more of a mix.
All in
all, though, this isn’t one put on your 'wait for Netflix' list. It
looks gorgeous on the big screen, and hearing the discussions of your fellow
cinema-goers on your way out will be a highlight in itself.
It’s
so, so much more than the crime thriller it’s been marketed as.
But
then, so was the book.
★★★★
★★★★