The Killer
NetflixThis piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes.
Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, the movie being covered here wouldn’t exist.
David Fincher is back with a leaner and meaner outlook on film than his over-indulgent Mank with The Killer. This efficient action-thriller is essentially his take on Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samouraï. Of course, this isn’t its primary inspiration, as the movie is based on the Dargaud comic book series of the same name by Alexis “Matz” Nolent and Luc Jacamon. Fincher takes the primary setting of the comic but removes all of the fluff and concentrates on moving its titular character, played by Michael Fassbender, from one location to the next.
The film opens with the titular killer in Paris, waiting to strike his target. But when the mission goes wrong, the client he is working for goes after his girlfriend (Sophie Charlotte), setting him on a path of revenge to find the people responsible. Again, the film contains a lean and mean plot: most of the characters are unnamed, and their backstories aren’t crucial to the core of the story. It’s all about the killer traveling through different aliases worldwide to find who these people are and, well, kill them. After all, it’s called “The Killer” for a reason.
It's perhaps Fincher’s most straightforward movie – one that isn’t concerned with attempting to blow audiences away with a twist that shifts the entire initial direction of its movie à la Fight Club or Gone Girl. It’s also the movie’s most glaring flaw: the story has been done to death countless times and doesn’t seem as inspiring as some of the filmmaker’s more elaborate works. Yes, everything is seen a mile away, and once all of the pieces are set in motion, there are no major reveals and character-shifting decisions. But this approach also allows Fincher to focus on the best, and most crucial, aspects of the filmmaking process: the images and sound.
A movie can have great performances and function well as a story. But if it looks, and sounds, like crap, chances are it won’t be remembered in the audience’s memories. Filmmakers like Michael Bay and Zack Snyder focus very little on story and character development and divert all of their resources to the mechanics of filmmaking – always finding new, and exciting, ways to move their cameras and expand their distinct visual style. Fincher has always been one to blend his singular style with great acting. However, he’s more concerned with refining his filmmaking methods in The Killer, which he showcases with an expert sense of timing and calculated precision.
In a sense, Fincher uses Fassbender’s killer to talk about himself and his methods: The Killer always has one outlook on how he can approach his mission and anticipate what’s coming without improvisation. He’s developed a specific style that not only makes him an efficient asset for the people he works with but also aids him in his more profound understanding of life, which he consistently refines. It wouldn’t be apt to call Fincher a perfectionist because he always seems to struggle with how he perceives himself as an artist and can overcome being dubbed “the guy that did Fight Club.” But that’s also part of the charm of most of his post-Fight Club movies, where he tries to distinguish himself from that movie and expand his style to multiple genres. For many years, the filmmaker was attached to helm World War Z 2 for Paramount until the project fell apart, the biggest sign of his drive to consistently stand apart from the pack with each movie he makes.
The Killer is the greatest hits amalgamation of Fincher’s techniques that propels him forward in his authorial sensibilities. Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ perfectly-timed score act as his anchor point to his post-2010s filmography, while Erik Messerschmidt’s enveloping photography and Kirk Baxter’s razor-sharp editing give the movie the verve and rhythm it needs to feel distinct from Fincher’s oeuvre. How Baxter cuts the film is astonishing: there isn’t a single wasted moment in its 118-minute runtime. He ensures the film swerves at an appropriate tempo that’s never too dull and maximalist. It will slowly reveal itself as it changes chapters, with the tension increasing at every turn, with The Smiths’ needle drops elevating the killer’s dread as his methodical and calculated approach turns south.
Messerschmidt’s cinematography also seems in sync with its intricate sound design, which moves from The Killer’s head to the film’s diegesis. At times, The Killer will listen to his surroundings, which is when the sound cranks up to the extremes. But there are plenty of occasions when Fincher wants to peer through his mind, from how he uses headphones to calm himself down. The Paris scene, which features the best use of The Smiths in any motion picture, cutting from his internal point of view, where the music blasts through all the speaker, through an external, and invisible, outlook; the music is barely perceptible, as his headphones are heard, is the best example of Fincher’s approach for the movie. The combination of images and sound draws the audience in, with Fassbender guiding them through the story.
Speaking of Fassbender, he’s never been better. With a film as calculated as The Killer, Fincher would paint the character as such, and Fassbender gives the right non-emotional notes to his story, one of perfect form and accuracy, which gets upended by a tiny flinch. Fassbender doesn’t physically exude emotion – he’s more like a brick wall – but his continuous narration throughout the movie hints at the emotions he may or may not feel. The perfect actor can master a facial expression, but the best actor should be unreadable from the audience’s perspective. Fassbender’s performance is the latter and enhances the movie far more than its supporting cast of great actors in minor roles, including Arliss Howard, Top Gun: Maverick’s Charles Parnell, Sala Baker, and Tilda Swinton.
Even if the supporting characters are more underdeveloped than its protagonist and the story feels too simplistic, The Killer’s exercise in visual and aural precision is one of Fincher’s most outstanding achievements yet. His minute approach to filmmaking never repeats itself, and his take on Metz & Jacomon’s The Killer feels more alive than ever. It may be the only time someone has dared to expand on the late Joel Schumacher’s “living comic books” in the often maligned – but daring – Batman Forever and Batman & Robin. Apples and oranges, sure, but in an era of comic book movie slop and superhero fatigue, Fincher’s approach is the cure for all of the studios’ current theme park rides.