Here’s the thing: it’s not as
good as the book. There, it’s been said. Deal with it. Authored by Gillian
Flynn and published in 2012 to widespread acclaim, Gone Girl is the story of a man being investigated for the
disappearance of his wife and is easily one the greatest reads in recent
memory. It is a novel that defies genre (“it’s a romantic crime thriller
satire, duh”) and raises some very intriguing questions about the authenticity
of married life. Narrated in the first person from His and Her point of view,
it’s a text ripe with musings and deep-seated confessions that both men and women
can relate to, but just might not admit to having with their other halves.
The inevitable downside is that
these compelling streams of consciousness cannot be effectively reproduced on
the big screen, no matter how many voiceovers try to make up for it. But then
again, while Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl
may never get the perfect adaptation that all fans of the book may long for,
David Fincher’s Gone Girl remains no
doubt a film worth seeing.
Fincher has carved himself a
career out of gloomy, twisted material (his most upbeat work may well be a Coca
Cola advert from the early 90s) and Gone
Girl’s shadier themes lend themselves well to his style of filmmaking. Coated
in dark, sombre visuals, even white picket-fenced American suburbia feels like a
haunting place in Fincher’s hands. Adding further obscurity to the proceedings is
Trent Reznor’s otherworldly score, which makes for an unsettling acoustic
experience with its unpredictable electronic staccatos.
More importantly, the one aspect
of Flynn’s novel that Fincher manages to successfully translate to film is the theme
of perception and how easily it can be distorted, whether it’s in a marriage or
in modern day media. Characters’ images are continuously subverted in private
and in public via scathing news reports and intimate revelations, putting the
viewer’s sympathy to serious test throughout the plot. Some twists may be more
predictable than others, but the tension and suspense never subside and will
have you on the edge of your seat.
Come to think of it, never mind mass
media exploitation and the politics of long term relationships – if there’s one
controversial topic that Gone Girl helps
address once and for all, it’s that Rosamund Pike should be as big a star as Rachel
McAdams or Reese Witherspoon, two other blonde, likeable actresses in their mid-thirties
with arguably less range than this English rose. Sure, Ben Affleck’s silhouette
is on all the posters and he does a fine job as an average joe faced with
incredible circumstances, but thanks to a bravura performance that oscillates
between vulnerable and disturbing, Pike steals the film from under his nose and
walks away with it until she’s gone, girl. Sorry, had to be done.
4/5
