| Issue #49, March 16, 2007 |
Guy de Fraumeni’s Hollywod 1n The Hamptons
Zodiac, the self-titled murderer who created fear and loathing in California beginning in 1969, has occupied the mind of director David Fincher for a number of years. The last film he directed in 1995 was Seven, which dealt with a fictional serial killer who punished violators of the seven deadly sins. He did it in the most grotesquely violating ways. Though crafted immaculately and lovingly styled, it appeared to be doting on the lowest of human depravity. Fincher’s take on the real life Zodiac is too seriously studied to draw that criticism. He has been captivated by the slayer Zodiac, as was the public, media and law enforcement. It was Zodiac’s forte. Through manipulation, cryptic correspondence and sheer audacity and wits, he twisted everyone around his bloody little finger.
Zodiac focuses a great deal on three central characters, who were his hunters and as obsessively determined as the director Fincher. In this “monster” movie is an over-ambitious, painfully, fear-mongering amount of detail covering 20 years of frustration. The director, and screenwriter James Vanderbilt, get a good bit of the gore out of the way early. Two people parked in lover’s lane at night are shot and then a couple is graphically knifed in broad daylight. Having established the nature of the animal, the film assembles in jigsaw fashion with intricate shapes interlocking into diverse times and places recording the murders, the reactions and the investigations. The killer sends ciphers and letters to the San Francisco Chronicle. The messages are genuine and too cryptic for the police, and even the C.I.A. and F.B.I., but easy for a schoolteacher and his wife. They were crudely done but effective. He wrote, “I like killing people . . . it is more fun than killing wild game because man is the most dangerous animal.”
One of the three men dedicated to Zodiac’s capture was Robert Graysmith, who was working for the San Francisco Chronicle as a political cartoonist. He became deeply involved and wrote about the crimes. Two of his books are the basis for this screenplay. Jake Gyllenhaal plays him as a serious boy. Robert Downey, Jr., again doing a smack-down fine performance, plays Paul Avery, a flamboyant crime reporter who latches onto the Zodiac case like a blood-sucking leech. Then there’s the bowtie-wearing homicide detective, David Toschi, played by Mark Ruffalo, who is willing to turn over every stone in California to unearth the killer. Assisted by Anthony Edwards as his partner, and many boxes of animal crackers, Mr. Ruffalo is looking more and more like an old pro. The three stars really shine in a plot that is so dense, so dark and deals primarily with how awfully the killings affected people’s lives. Choc-full of just about everything of the period, it winks at Hollywood’s virtuosity, crime and justice, and genres too obscure to point out. Fincher gets it all exactly as it was. It takes him 2 hours and 35 minutes and probably hours more left on the knee-deep, editing room floor. It is still overly long.
Smokey-charred and amber tinged, the first and longest section of Zodiac penetrates the grave-like mentality of its enigmatic riddle. The second section, years later, dapples with some color. The baton is carried on by Graysmith, he (Gyllenhaal) is now wedded to Melanie (Chlöe Sevigny) and has three children. The San Francisco Chronicle office is spruced up and Graysmith is still aroused enough to dig into the Zodiac’s body bags, even though some may not have been killed by Zodiac. Fincher keeps Zodiac’s work procedures and their results on the screen. The killer has provided enough symbols and psychological buried meanings so Fincher prefers to closely examine minute details to form the picture on screen and, an epic picture it is. Shot on High Definition video by Harris Savides and Fincher, the digital imagery is highly distinctive. The pieces of the puzzle are seamless. The shapes blur and are a single unity of dedication to its subject. Some black gallows humor lightens the darkly burnt offerings like a breeze lifting an ashen scrap of paper skyward.
Way up there are the performances by the three protagonists, especially Downey, who makes every moment on screen a vivid puff of real life played large. Largesse also pours off the screen by Ms. Sevigny, Brian Cox, Dermot Mulroney and others. Considering the thrust of death in the film, its very lively reenactments heat up the cold, cold case moratorium. Zodiac was never caught.
Guy Jean de Fraumeni is the producer/writer/director of award winning European and American feature films. He has been a judge at Major Film and TV award competitions, including the Oscars, the Emmy’s and various film festivals. Sarah Halsey assists him.
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