For his first film in three years, David Fincher goes back to his favourite stomping ground. The thriller. Se7en, Gone Girl and Zodiac all marked him out as one of the most stylish, imaginative directors going, and one who loved to play games with his audience.
That combination of mischief and chilly elegance returns in The Killer, based on the graphic novel of the same name by Alexis “Matz” Nolent. We never know the assassin’s name. What we do know is that he’s the ultimate professional with an eye for meticulous detail and an enviable track record. A series of mantras keep him so focused that scruples and regrets never cross his mind. But a big job goes spectacularly wrong and he finds himself in just as much demand but for all the wrong reasons. The hunter is now the hunted, his former employers are on his tail and his attempts at disappearing into anonymity simply don’t work. He’s left with just one alternative: to use those once-valued skills to wipe out his pursuers, one in particular who is very much his equal.
All of Fincher’s trademarks appear to be there, but his relish in toying with his audience has changed. Gone is that pleasurable realisation that what you’ve been watching is something else entirely, that you’ve been duped by a master of the game, and it’s been replaced by something simpler, almost childlike. Once the chase scenario has been established, the intricacies are dropped in favour of a running gag, one that quickly traps you into watching for its next appearance. It’s fun, a giggle and something to chat about afterwards, but it’s also distracting and comes with two distinct downsides. It only works if you get the joke to start with and risks going over numerous heads and, in truth, it doesn’t add that much to the film. At a stretch it could indicate that the cold-eyed hit man has a sense of humour, one reflecting his contempt for other people, but that’s as far as it goes.
Searching for more depth elsewhere, the director ventures into more personal territory. Supposedly the best in the business, his assassin has experienced his first failure and it’s essentially destroyed him. Such is the precarious nature of his profession – and it’s much the same in movieland. This is Fincher’s first feature since 2020 and Mank wasn’t one of his biggest successes. Before that, his movies, and TV series such as Mindhunter, had all been bangers but it only takes one film to change everything. And failure can hit hard.
The idea stretches to the choice of actor for his killer elite. Away from our screens for the past four years while he enjoyed being a racing driver, Michael Fassbender had scored some notable hits, but the likes of Dark Phoenix and The Snowman didn’t go down well with critics or audiences and his Midas touch had clearly fizzled out. He returns, working with Fincher for the first time, in a role that’s tailor-made for him, all iciness and stone-cold eyes and with the amazing ability to blend into a crowd and become, to all intents and purposes, invisible. It’s the perfect match of performer and director and a partnership that makes you long for more.
A visually stunning neo-noir, The Killer is still full of tiny details to fascinate, drawing us in with a lengthy but nonetheless captivating opening sequence. Fincher gives it a tidy structure, with the story divided into six neat chapters, plus a prologue and an epilogue. And, to back it up, we’re treated to a narration from the assassin himself and tracks from The Smiths which not only slyly entertain, but act as a commentary as the action unfolds.
Fincher is back and it’s a welcome return. But is he back to his best? Not quite. He’s given us a film with style and pace, one that’s lean and sometimes just downright entertaining. But there’s not enough substance underneath and what is there isn’t explored enough.
The Killer is released on Netflix on Friday, November 10.
