Gone Girl (2014)

David Fincher's career is grounds for optimism for anyone who ever failed the first time out. Remember Alien 3? I don't much either. That notorious example of diminished sequelitis could have exiled Fincher back to the music videos he had sprung from, another forgotten Hollywood aspirant. Then came Se7en and Fight Club, not to mention The Game, which updates a Victorian novel to pre-millennial elite anxiety—naming the novel would spoil the surprise, but Fincher pulled off the audacious trick of making as gripping a thriller as it was philosophically profound an exploration of the inner life. 

Fincher's new film, Gone Girl, may be his most realistic treatment yet of cultural mores dressed up as a detective story. Adapted by Gillian Flynn from her novel, it's a missing person whodunnit movie starring Ben Affleck as the husband who may or may not have killed his wife (the numbly brilliant Rosamund Pike). 

At the level of police procedural, Gone Girl is compelling—it’s the kind of film that builds and removes layers of comprehension, where it's not always clear what crime has been committed, never mind who is responsible, and the audience's expectations are wrong-footed so subtly that the end credits may become a space to reconsider everything that's gone before. 

Fincher's typically diverse cast of deeply drawn characters is made meaty by Kim Dickens' lead investigator, Tyler Perry really acting, and Neil Patrick Harris as a rich guy who confuses love with madness; and Affleck and Pike make the perfect couple to reflect a challenging perspective on postmodern marriage. What does it take to really know someone, to really love them? And how can we make decisions for ourselves in an age of bombardment by mainstream media perspectives on the world that are economically wedded to the idea that horror outweighs compassion? Missi Pyle's portrayal of Nancy Grace-style “claim the victim, shame everybody else” snuff journalism would be hilarious if it wasn't a depiction of what's on CNN right now. Gone Girl is intelligent and bleak, a classy hybrid of Crimes and Misdemeanors, Presumed Innocent, and The Truman Show.