Fincher’s best

David Fincher’s career is a classic film maker’s tale of working his way up from the bottom. Starting as a production assistant for Korty films, he steadily moved up the ranks there before being picked up by Industrial Light & Magic as a cameraman and matte photographer where he worked on productions for Return of the Jedi and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

He left them to direct commercials and eventually gained a name for himself directing music videos ‘til he co-founded his own production company, Propaganda, and went onto direct ground breaking music videos for the likes of Madonna, Rick Springfield, and Aerosmith.

With his talent for directing becoming abundantly clear, he was hired to direct the critically panned Alien 3, an experience so bad he kept away from films and the Hollywood system for years, before being tempted back to make the mega hit thriller Se7en – and, as they say, the rest is gravy.

Fincher’s roots in Music videos have always come across clearly in his work, especially his sweeping, very unhuman camera work. So it’s no shock in a career as stylish and acclaimed as his, that his macabre imagination would have birthed a number of incredible, intense, disturbing, and sometimes beautiful scenes and sequences worthy of discussion, or in this case – a list.

Warning – Spoilers ahead.

 

10. Title sequence from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

The Girl with the Dragan Tattoo

Perhaps an obvious choice from this frost-bitting adaption of the bestselling novel. But even with the rest of the film as well made, compelling, and disturbingly complex as the best of Fincher’s work, it’s this hell spawn of Bond credits and an S&M art film that haunts you. A collaboration between Fincher and Tim Miller (yes, the director of Deadpool) who worked together along with Miller’s effects company Blur Studio to bring Fincher’s wet dream into fruition.

Stitched to Trent Reznor’s savage cover of The Immigrant Song for dear life: it’s raw, angry, and disturbing, it’s everything Fincher’s good at in three minutes and it lets the viewer know what kind of film they’re in for, even if all the bondage, anger, and death isn’t paid off for nearly two hours.

Though much more than just a credit scene for the titular film, Fincher had elements of the following books, The Girl Who Played with Fire, and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest worked into the sequence with just as much importance as the elements pertaining to the story he was telling; and the whole thing can be seen as a Geiger-esque nightmare summation of the series as a whole.

This would have ranked higher on the list if it was purely based on incredibleness, but as this is a look at Fincher’s best work, and this was just as much Tim Miller’s creation, it won its place in starting the list.

 

9. The first murder/opening sequence from Zodiac

Zodiac

Within seconds of the opening tracking shot, Fincher transports us into 1960s America; white picket fences, fireworks, teen couple and all; his meticulous eye for detail lending perfectly to period settings. But it’s the camera work that brings the scene to life; sinisterly voyeuristic (and Hitchcockian) we follow this inherently normal couple as they drive around, and through casual patches of dialogue learn what they’re doing.

But though their actions are normal, Fincher creates an uncomfortable prickle to it all, like a needle slowly pushing into you, gradually going deeper and deeper as we follow them from crowded suburbia, to isolated grove. It’s a feeling that only the girl seems to be aware of and subtly Fincher makes it clear she’s running from something.

The sequence then crescendos spectacularly as a car drives up and a shadowed man brutally shoots the teens down, then walks away only to come back and shoot them again, as Donovan’s now ear-crawlingly creepy Hurdy Gurdy Man, roars over it. It’s the stuff of nightmares.

The opening ends with the reveal that the boy survived the attack, and we hear the shooter tell the police where to find them, what gun he used, and confesses to having done this before, then hanging up with a chillingly disconnected “goooood-bye”. And with that cut to black, you are just as invested and curious to find out who and what, this guy is as the lead characters we’re then introduced to. In just over five minutes, Fincher makes sure we’re deeply staked in this epic, decade sprawling mystery.

 

8. And the taxi would have driven by from The Curious case of Benjamin Button

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The odd blot on Fincher’s résumé of twisted thrillers and cold dramas: CCBB is his twist on and love letter to classic Hollywood storytelling and grand period pieces. Though not amongst his tightest work, this should still be respected and appreciated all the same, for the whimsical yet charmingly human tale he brought to life. Heavy on themes of the frailty of human existence, and the uncaring hand of fate, which ideas are no better seen than in this breath taking and riveting sequence.

A breezy Pitt with his southern twang muses over all the little twists of fate, from forgotten coats, unset clocks, and broken hearts, which lead to his lifelong love Daisy being hit by a taxi.

It’s an idea we’ve heard of before, but Fincher’s control over every quick glimpse into these peoples’ lives, his focus on feet and legs whenever we cut to Daisy, and steadily rising score, all build to that heart stopping moment when Daisy spirals into the street and the taxi just misses her, and that heart-breaking moment right after in knowing that this isn’t what happened.

Though I think some of the impact is lost when, seconds later, Pitt assures us that she was hit by the taxi and we see that happen; but the sequence is still so resonating, and Pitt’s mournful yet disconnected tone renders it beautifully. It’s filmmaking of the highest calibre.

 

7. What’s in the box? from Se7en

Se7en (1995)

What else is there to say about this scene? The end of Se7en made David Fincher: a cold burning climax that solidified him as not just a tourist of the dark and twisted, but its new mayor. With John Doe finally in custody…by his own doing, Detectives Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt accompany him to his last two victims; only for it to be revealed that Doe’s planned for Pitt and himself to be the last victims of his deadly sins murder spree: Envy and Wrath.

Se7en is a pulpy thriller directed like a horror film, filled with dark hallways, claustrophobic rooms, and stomach churning imagery, but this ending turns that all on its head, taking place in the vast, bright desert. Fincher uses this to elevate the horror, making the utter evil as clear as day, while never actually showing us anything.

We never see what’s in the box, just get told, and when Doe is killed it’s done in a wide-shot; Fincher knew that all he needed was the ideas to shock us. But he also used simple techniques to ramp up the terror; swapping his not yet iconic steady cam for handheld as the detectives start to lose control of the situation; getting frantic and blurred as Pitt wrestles with his rage.

All the while keeping the camera low, steady, and menacing on Doe who’s clearly in control, even in death- and who in the end, clearly wins.

 

6. Throat cut/you f*cking bitch from Gone Girl

Gone Girl

Half-way through Fincher’s grand murder mystery/dark satire, it’s masterfully revealed that the apparent murder-victim Amy has in fact orchestrated her whole disappearance to frame her husband for murder to get revenge on him cheating – and is also in fact a complete psychopath. This is given to us lightly through-out her B-plot through the rest of the film, but is fully uncaged in this sequence.

Tired of her old boyfriend/new captor, Amy hastily strips and seduces him, and brings him to the point of orgasm as they screw, only to swifty slit his throat wide open with a hidden box cutter- all cut to Trent Reznor’s hushed blare of a score.

Though the flashes to black are a bit much, Fincher shows us this murder with skin bleeding realism, never cutting away as Amy holds her victim down and continues to ride him as his throat ejaculates gore all over her. Then when the deed is done, Amy takes but a few shuddering breaths before shaking it off and coldly walking away.

We then cut to the reunion of the Husband and a blood riddled Amy as she dramatically returns to him, but, now wise to her game, he comically whispers, “you f*cking bitch” just as she collapses. It’s a sequence that shows off what Fincher’s unflinching style does best, and is a perfect snap-shot of what Gone Girl is- disturbing, warped, and funny.

5. Opening break up/title sequence from The Social Network

The Social Network

I don’t just mean the opening scene, I mean that followed by the title sequence leading up to arriving back in his dorm room. With Arron Sorkin dialogue it can be easy to get lost if directed wrong, but not only does Fincher make sure we keep up with every flippant overlapping quip, but doubly makes sure we know what of substance we need to take from it.

Starting in mid-quick fire conversation Fincher directs us round this pair of preppy college students with precision and purpose, meticulously making sure we know what to pay attention to and when, and all with three types of shots.

A two shot letting us see their intimacy, over the shoulders used to bring us closer to the characters and build the conversation, then boom, close-up, the climax of what has been said; making sure, if anything, we take that away from the verbal ballet they had been spewing: “Finals clubs” and “You’re an asshole”.

Then after this excellent character and story introduction, we get… Jesse Eisenberg lightly jogging back to his dorm room. While many directors would just cut to him there to keep the plot moving, Fincher uses this time to not only let us breathe but more importantly set the tone of the film.

The slow pans across the beautiful, lonely Harvard streets coupled with Trent Reznor’s hauntingly simple score set this film up as something far beyond the cash-in trendy story people thought it was going to be at the time, but instead as something methodically melancholy with subtle depths.

A good reflection of our lead character in hindsight as well, this title sequence makes sure the audience knows that, though this is the story of Facebook, that isn’t what it’s about.

4. Slow-mo from Panic Room

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Essentially Fincher’s version of a blockbuster movie, the auteur of cool doesn’t see this as an opportunity to just sit back and fill the screen with lazy explosions and gun fights, but instead to tell a simple story with some of the most ludicrously cool and stylish camera movements ever put to film.

The extended long take that flies through a sodding coffee mug was a close runner up, but this heart stopping sequence that sees Jodi Foster running for her phone as her home invaders stand just outside the door way, just clinched it.

Shot in breath-taking slow-motion; the scene cuts between Jodi’s panicked scrambles as her phone lies just out of reach, and Forest Whitaker berating Jared Leto just outside the door; done with nothing but ambient sounds and the exaggerated thuds of the scrambling.

This is easily one of the most pulse-racing and over dramatic sequences in Fincher’s whole oeuvre, and sums up Panic Room perfectly – fun, over the top and shockingly tense.

 

3. You met me at a very strange time in my life from Fight Club

Fight Club (1999)

At its heart, behind all the satire, black comedy, and fighting, Fight Club is about a fairly normal guy just trying to take control of his life; take it back from the consumerist 9-5 monotony he never wanted, then take it back from the psychotic mad man he created to escape that. And those feelings all come to an explosive and oddly sweet head in the final scene.

What makes the end of Fight Club work so well is, on one side we have the dark, brooding, and brutal show down of our lead’s two personalities, the superman and the everyman, with the everyman finally letting go of his destructive counterpart by symbolically shooting Tyler in the head…his own cheek.

Then on the other, as the narrator amusingly shrugs off his gushing wound, he has a genuinely sweet reunion with Marla, the woman whose crazy matches his. They reconcile, hold hands like school kids, and watch the economy blow-up, all while the Pixies serenade them.

That final image (not counting Brad Pitt’s penis) is honestly as sweet and romantic as it is crazy, and was the out of the blue perfect note to close a story like Fight Club on. A film that revels in its contempt for humanity, Fincher knew it needed the sweet aroma of that very thing to bring the mayhem to a close.

 

2. I’m coming back for everything from The Social Network

social-network.jpg

If the opening set the film up to be much more than an origin story of everyone’s favourite time waster, this scene brings to a peak what the film was really about, themes as old as time – friendship, greed, betrayal. Masterfully crafted round the depositions of Mark and Edwardo, this is the emotional climax of the film. Where we find out how the friendship we’ve been following the ups and downs of throughout was finally broken; and like the worst things in life it came down to jealousy and money.

Fincher utilizes deep focus to make Edwardo pop from the surroundings, showing how he doesn’t fit there and making his devastation crystal clear. Never opting for the easy intense close-up, we’re kept mid-level with the emotions, personal but business, and treated to one of Fincher’s simplest but best tracking shots leading to the confrontation between the two, and a smashed Macbook.

Trent Reznor’s score creeps back in as the sordid details of Mark’s screwing over of Edwardo are numbered, and that eerie melancholy tone resonates with the shards of their broken friendship, blurring into angry static as Edwardo strips Mark and Sean’s personalities and motives down, and in a hushed rage tells them he’ll be back for everything before leaving.

This film, and this scene especially, silenced many of the nay-sayers who said Fincher could only excel with thrillers, and proved he could bring just as much intensity from raw emotion as from raw violence.

 

1. Just because you can’t prove it doesn’t mean it’s not true from Zodiac

Zodiac-film.jpg

How do you satisfyingly end a near three hour true-life investigative mystery thriller where the killer was never caught? Take a well calculated and researched stab at it and craft one of the most riveting exposition scenes ever put to film; a pulsating fight of wits and hope between Jake Gyllenhaal’s obsessed cartoonist, and Mark Ruffalo’s disillusioned detective.

Zodiac is a film that not only covers hours and years, but dozens of characters, locations, and theories all revolving around one burning question: who is the Zodiac? And in under five minutes, at a shitty table at an all-night diner, the entire case is laid out in front us; every crumb of information that been gathered is picked-up, argued over, and carefully placed to try and put this warped jigsaw together.

On paper this shouldn’t work, you can’t end a mystery with it unsolved and the characters just accepting that there’s nothing further they can do. But that’s what happens. Similarly to the opening of The Social Network, Fincher uses simple camera work to keep the focus on navigating the sprawling map of facts, dates and people we’re presented with.

He keeps the characters separate in mid-shots as they argue over theory vs hard fact, what they think and what they can prove, ‘til he gradually brings them together in a two shot as those start to mix, as Gyllenhaal’s puzzle starts to take shape to the detective. But even after the penny drops, and that definitive piece of evidence which surely proves the truth once and for all is revealed, all Ruffalo can do is shrug and thank him, because it just isn’t enough.

Fincher does the near impossible here. He gives us an emotionally satisfying who-done-it, while never definitively telling us who Zodiac is, if it really was Arther Leigh Allen or one of the dozen other suspects, and the use of different Zodiac actors throughout just proves we’re never meant to know.

It’s a serial killer film about the emotional and mental rabbit-hole the chase leads us and its characters down, not the capture; and this scene just makes sure we all still get the closure needed to escape it.

 

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