I guess a big huge THANK YOU is in order. When I pay for something, when I go to the multiplex this is what I want to feel, this is what I want to get for my money. So I’ll just go ahead and thank David Fincher for Gone Girl, for I am still in complete disarray and awe after taking it all in and realizing that it’s actually quite nice for a change to remember how it once felt when you enjoyed going to the cinema all the time.
I think at one point I read that David Fincher was the one who said that he wants everyone to feel as bad as he feels. I choose not to believe that, especially after watching this outstanding piece of art unfold before my eyes. I will steer clear of the story, because that would be a really jackass move from my part. I would never dare to rob you of the experience that is Gone Girl.
I am here to talk about the movie, but also that which lifts a lot of the heavy elements of the film. The music. Gone Girl marks the 3rd collaboration between Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross and David Fincher after The Social Network and The Girl with the Dragon Tatoo. It was Fincher himself who knew what he wanted for the score. A somewhat dark, moody, turbulent and faltered music that he picked up in a spa center while getting his back fixed. Throughout the entire movie, the soundtrack lures its listener into the tangled web of mysteries and intricacies that float like a dark aura around this lovely couple.
The music is so vibrant, ethereal and deep and wide and beautiful, but slow as if blended with immeasurable sorrow. And on a larger note it achieves a unity of its own, making it loud and vain and violent, crawling its way very subtle, dragging along a dark and cold shiver that will pull up all your hair down your spine, going places, tapping into your psyche, probably more than that Twin Peaks theme ever managed to. The idea behind the score starts out with a warm neighborly hug, and once it reaches your arms, it opens its eyes revealing the anomaly of the mind and its true murderous nature.
From the first track to the last, the Gone Girl soundtrack feels like a nightmare, a dark yet ambient and soothing one that plays inside your head, implanting doubt at every keynote, with each new instrument coming into play. Sugar Storm, Just Like You, The Way He Looks at Me, and Technically, Missing are as mind blowing as they are creepy and edgy, separated by what’s there but isn’t. The soundtrack is made up of a technical blend of taps and licks, electronic cracks, distortions and loops circling over and over, building up a crescendo of feelings draped in black, only to succumb to a calm and serene breakdown into what at first seems like sadness but rots away into doubt, uncertainty and the most obscene type of twisted and sick deception.
The design of the film and its music is naturally perfect, a triumph equaled only by its wonderful actors (Ben Affleck and the lovely Rosamund Pike) and a director who seem to paint a perfect yet decaying portrait of the inherent imperfection that is a marriage in the modern age. As one of the tracks near the end indicates, Consummation is what happens to its viewer. It rises in an uproar, drawing strength from a corrupted power so vast that it consumes him when what is shown on the screen and the monstrosity of what you hear converge to flesh out a scene that will forever be imprinted into your mind as one of the best pieces of cinema to date. To feel all that in one film is gripping, absorbing and engrossing.