Zodiac

Finally, David Fincher (Se7en, The Game, Fight Club) is back making great films after eight years (Panic Room doesn't count). I grew up on Fincher's films. He is the man.
Fincher's latest surrounds the famous unsolved mystery of the Zodiac killer, who terrorized the Bay Area in the late 60's. The story has a two-pronged narrative. The first thread follows a group of reporters at the San Francisco Chronicle, including Paul Avery (Robert Downey Jr.) and cartoonist Robert Graysmith (Jake Gyllenhaal). The second thread focuses on the police investigation, particularly David Toschi (Mark Ruffalo) and William Armstrong (Anthony Edwards). They are all chasing an elusive killer who calls himself the Zodiac. Who is he? Who has he killed? Why does he kill? The Zodiac sends letters to the Chronicle telling them of his latest exploits. He also occasionally includes a cypher with a hidden message. The letters keep coming, and the murders keep happening. The reporters get obsessed and do whatever they can to sniff out the trail. Meanwhile, the detectives are trying to piece together all the evidence strewn across various counties and jurisdictions. The chase is so intriguing that we as the audience tend to forget that this really happened.
The reporters and the detectives eventually get completely caught up in chasing after this madman. Let's focus on Graysmith for a minute. He is the ordinary guy, the everyman. We enter the film through him. He is completely obsessed with the Zodiac. He wants to find the killer and look him in the eye, just so he can know. Graysmith wants justice, but he gets so caught up in bringing justice on a big scale that he neglects justice on a small scale. His marriage suffers, and his children suffer, as the tagline reads "There's more than one way to lose your life to a killer." The investigation goes on and on, and after nine years Graysmith still can't shake this fixation. He eventually writes a book about the killer, and his addiction reflects our own. We tend to care about what is famous and newsworthy more than we care about what is really important. Can't Graysmith move on? Can't we move on? We are like rubberneckers at the scene of an accident. Why are we interested in the most extreme human behavior? The human condition is a sad one. We are sinful, fallen, broken. Not only that, but we seem to be drawn to the worst versions of these qualities. Yet it could be beneficial, because someone needs to stop this killer, right?
Graysmith was a cartoonist, not a cop. What could he do? He wanted to play a part, to have a role, to do something, anything. The Zodiac had made threats against children, and he was a father; he would not sit idly by. He eventually took it into his own hands. God has given us all a desire to be a part of something bigger, and this was Graysmith's "something."
Zodiac goes on and on, but in a good way. It gives many snapshots along a very grueling timeline, spanning nine years (for the most part). It doesn't wrap up nicely, doesn't make complete sense. The film, like the case, just keeps going and going and going. While watching the appalling nature of the killer, the seemingly futile efforts of the police, and the morbid obsession of so many, I coudn't help but think of Ecclesiastes. Chapter 7, verse 15 states "In this meaningless life of mine I have seen both of these: a righteous man perishing in his righteousness, and a wicked man living long in his wickedness." We want everything to work out the way it should, but it usually doesn't. It seems meaningless. Where is the hope? Well this film is not about hope, it's about the psychotic nature of evil. Fincher reminds us that evil exists, especially in the hearts of men. And we can't solve that problem, no matter how hard we try.
Zodiac is beautifully shot, wonderfully executed, dangerously disturbing, and perfectly dark. That's the Fincher I grew to love.