Sunday, November 16, 2014

Gone Girl: Who's cheating who?

One of the best things about Gone Girl is how riveting it is, despite its lack of style. This may not have been apparent to me, had I not been part of a discussion about film makers who are stylists, versus those that are adept story tellers. I have not watched many films where story telling singularly stood out (I could not think of any during the debate and have not seen most of the films that my friend had listed; if you want to tell a good story there are mediums other than movies for that!), only Thirteen Days and Naan Kadavul come to mind now. When watching Gone Girl, I got a feeling that other than the drama, every thing else receded to the background. I don't even recall noticing background score at any point, if there was even one.

The first half of the film is essentially a thriller, as Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) comes home to find his wife Amy missing, on the day of their fifth anniversary. He calls the police, the media duly take notice and the search unravels, all shot in a matter of fact way, without much fuss. Affleck's too cool to care husband, who is probably happier without his wife, adds to the unfussy story telling. His performance in these portions, super imposed with Amy's parallel narrative of their earlier life, ranges from disturbing to funny (especially the feigned sincerity when he claims how he misses his wife at a gathering), and provides an edge when the story changes track when the truth about Amy's disappearance finally hits him in a brilliantly staged scene.

After this point, the portion with Amy in a motel lingers for too long and almost releases the tension built up so far. The parallel plot about how the husband seeks legal aid and tries to shape public opinion, lack the matter-of-factness of the first half and there is nothing fresh about the commentary on a sensational media coverage (But the twincest joke is a gem!). If you have a scene highlighting the attorney's resourcefulness, (by correctly predicting that Nick's girl friend will speak) at the cost of being predictable to the audience, you ought to repay this debt sometime later. But Fincher conveniently forgets this! It is one thing to slowly and steadily build up Amy's character arc throughout the narration, dropping hints one at a time, and another to stage a robbery immediately after showing Amy drop a bundle of cash.


After the movie has ended, when you think back and figure out how all the pieces fall in place, it does not give you a rush like how The Usual Suspects or Vidathu Karuppu does. And it is if Gone Girl aspires to be an edgy thriller or a dark relationship comedy, and it does not seem like the film wants to be either. The ending lingers for far too long, and had the last few scenes been subtitled The Prologue I would have cared less, but having the twin sister say in agony that "she will be in his side, as they have been, even before they were born" sounds way too corny, and adds nothing to the movie.

The best thing about Gone Girl is how a viewer's perspective on Amy is masterfully shaped. The revelations of the 'rape victim' adds to the twist, and seems to foreshadow how Amy might be up to something more than punishing her cheating husband. But nothing prepares you for Amy's transformation from scheming to vicious, as she emerges out of her captivity with blood all over her hands! The tension built up with this scene carries over till the end, and that's probably why it seemed that the film was heading to an even more spectacular ending.

There is some material on Amy's 'amazing' childhood, having to cope with recession and her mother in-law's illness that could have been developed to flush out Amy's motivation, especially given this ending. Instead you are left wondering why the pet cat accompanies Nick, only in scenes where Amy is missing from the house. May be, by casting Niel Patrick Harris as the depressed boyfriend, the makers are making a statement on how Amy can stifle even Barney Stinsen under her thumb!

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