Zodiac ★★★★½

Nebulous, wet, murky and undoubtedly post-noir, Fincher's crime opus brilliantly robs us of criminal catching catharsis to meaningfully exterminate our narrative entitlements, in exchange for self reflection that would make Nietzsche proud.

Friedrich famously observed our human shape in the abyss-that-stares-back, and the persistent overcast haze of unsolved violence stares without blinking into the eyes of Gyllenhaal's cartoonist-cum-sleuth. The third act of this particular journey inward rightfully makes imperative the chef's kiss from Yours Truly; as Gyllenhaal investigates the basement of a possible suspect, far into a literal abyss, he panicks and runs out into the rain, having had his fill of chasing the Zodiac.

Despite a long runtime, the film uses clean editing and pivotal shifts in a languid narrative to make certain its purpose; they never catch the Zodiac, obviously, but his horrific crimes and the penumbral black cultural impact resonate, still to this day, in the hearts and minds of those that poke around in that misty nebula of human Id.

Those that operate with a dark sense of purpose, that act with absolute impunity, can only then fascinate us, right? Well beyond what's healthy, if the proliferation of true crime podcasts is any barometer...🌡🌡🌡

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