Gone Girl feels like a movie that should go in a time capsule because it captures the current culture we live in so well. If someone wants to know 25 years from now what life was like in 2014, I’d consider showing him or her this film.
That may say more about me than the movie David Fincher created here. Over the past eight to 10 years, I have become extremely cynical about marriage and how it’s treated within our culture. I’ve seen some couples and circumstances that make me feel like I never want to get married or start a family because the aggravation just doesn’t seem worth it. I increasingly feel like marriage is a role or expectation forced upon people, and in turn, forced upon the family and friends involved with the two people committing to one another.
However, that’s not to say I don’t see many examples of marriages that do work. I can imagine friends of mine reading this, thinking that I might be judging or perceiving something that isn’t really true. Most people I know are in strong marriages and I envy that they’re still in love after many years together and the strain that adulthood, along with raising a family, can put on those relationships. Besides, who am I to judge? So this isn’t about you. This is about some other couple. And the standards that marriage is held to these days.
It’s probably unfair to bring personal feelings into a movie, but I think we all do that as people. Sometimes, your mood can affect how you perceive a film. Are you having a bad date? Did you have a terrible day? Is there just too much other stuff on your mind at the time? Getting to escape all that, clear your mind, and lose yourself in a movie is when the experience becomes enjoyable.
Anyway, I thought it was pertinent to mention my feelings about marriage going into Gone Girl — even if they may be more appropriate in a separate post — because I think it’s worth considering that played a role in my opinion of the movie. To me, this is a sharp satire of marriage in 2014, as well as our media culture.
How many of us are more in love with the idea of marriage than the person we’ve decided to commit ourselves to? We want to find the right person who marks off all — or enough of — the boxes on our personal checklists, but that still doesn’t mean we’ll be able to stand sharing a home life with him or her. How important is it to convey the facade of a perfect marriage to family and friends. (It better be perfect, going by what you asked for on your gift registry!) And how much pressure does that expectation — along with the wedding, gifts and other trappings that come with it — place upon the couple?
Fincher and Flynn (who adapted her novel for the screenplay) also have a great time skewering the Nancy Grace-style of media that’s all too willing to try and convict someone on television based on what little knowledge is actually available because there’s an hour of content to fill every night. (Missy Pyle is great as the Grace-like Ellen Abbott.)
Blaming the husband for a kidnapping or murder is an easy narrative to go with — especially when this husband, Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck), seems so unlikable and Amy Dunne (Rosamund Pike) seems so gorgeous and perfect — so go with that and if it’s wrong, no one will remember because the story has moved on. No hard feelings, right? We’ll just put you on camera and let you tell your side of the story when it’s convenient for ratings.
Gone Girl is hardly a comedy, though it has several darkly funny moments and dialogue. Some of you might think I’m kind of sick for even suggesting so, because the story is so twisted — perhaps outlandishly so.
But it’s because of the crazy turn the plot takes that you almost need to laugh because to really think about it might take you out of the movie. For those who have read Gillian Flynn’s source novel, you know what the twist of the story is. If you’ve read anything about the book and the cultural phenomenon it became, I don’t think it’s terribly difficult to figure out what that plot development is. But I do think it’s possible to discuss the film without revealing a spoiler, so let’s try to keep the fun intact.
(There was an extremely annoying woman sitting two rows behind me who had read the book and continually cackled because she knew what was going to happen, and in her mind, no one else in the theater did.)
However, if there is a misstep by Fincher, I think it’s in how that twist is revealed. Maybe I’ve been conditioned to having such a scene dramatically framed with the big musical cue kicking in, but when the movie reveals its dirty little secret, it just sort of… happens. It’s actually sort of indistinguishable from the way the story has been bouncing between present day and flashback. Is what we’re seeing really happening or is almost like another flashback, a creation of an unreliable narrator?
I can’t imagine the twist came off that way in the book, so it feels disappointing for it to do so in the movie.
This isn’t Fincher’s best film. (I’d argue that’s Seven or Fight Club.) For the first 45 minutes to an hour, it’s actually on the verge of being dull, just a standard murder mystery. But as the rest of the movie plays out, it seems like that was intentional. Gone Girl does what Fincher has become very good at doing in his past few films, taking what seems normal on the surface and then presenting a moment of violence or absurdity that feels especially jarring or disturbing within that setting. And once the story loses its mind and goes batshit crazy, it’s more understandable why this material appealed to Fincher.
The casting is where this movie really shines. Affleck is perfect as Nick, a guy who’s probably caught a lot of breaks in life because of his looks and charm, but is really kind of a jerk. Isn’t that generally the public perception of Affleck? Pike could probably be given more to do, but that’s the fault of the script more than the actor. She certainly looks like the ideal of the pretty blond woman who might feel entitled to the perfect marriage yet also capture the sympathy and outrage of the media and concerned viewers.
But the real strength in casting probably comes from the supporting players. Kim Dickens brings the right edge to her detective investigating the case, while Patrick Fugit and his frequent “Can you believe this shit?” looks are sort of a stand-in for the audience. Tyler Perry does nice work as the defense lawyer whose profession is thriving, thanks to our current media climate. And going back her work here and in HBO’s The Leftovers, we need to see more of Carrie Coon in a lot more movies and TV. She’s the best part of the movie as Nick’s supporting, tough love sister.
Ultimately, of course, it’s about that couple. And the movie ends on a wicked note. What do we really know about any married couple that we see? What does a husband really know about his wife, and vice versa? How perfect can any relationship be, despite outward appearances? And to what lengths will that couple go to maintain such a facade, regardless of what’s happened? As the credits roll, you can almost hear Fincher and Flynn deviously laughing at their answers to those questions.
