Zodiac ★★★★

after doing an effective, yet aesthetically harmless genre exercise in Panic Room, Fincher creates the absolute anti-thesis to the predecessor aswell as his landmarks of the 90ies. this time around, everything is about creating an experimental design and meta-cinema.

Zodiac is an anti-entertainment excess. a true crime story following 30 years and several murder scenes, making a cinematographical play with time and room - as we are used with Finchers stylizations - impossible. instead we are left alone with an austere and unagitated crime tale, that culminates ultimatively into a movie about failing and disillusionment.

the clearing up the matter, setting straight, the punishment of the evil, all of this doesn't happen and leaves us unsatisfied just as the suspense curve of the whole movie does. the decomposition of the adversed, that broke into our reality, isn't happening. Zodiac says "sorry guys, and fuck you."

Finchers crime buster looks and feels like a meticulously put together puzzle on the drawing table. the concept is everything. facts are everything. authenticity and realism are welcomed companions. the characters aren't chess pawns, yet always degraded to be tools for the general idea. frustrated ambitions. Zodiac is nearly an ensemble film, yet marking the distance and not allowing too much room for its protagonists - no inner life present, no emotions wished for.

being that consequentially rational, the absent satisfaction of the whole shebang seems nearly like another of Finchers infamous "turns". the realization of failure to handle the evil is the core shock momentum of the film. to conclude with a couple of mundane text charts is both, reminiscing and breaking the genre conventions at the same time. Zodiac is David "mr clinical" Finchers most prosaic work.

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