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The Killer is definitely the kind of film David Fincher had to – scratch that, needed to – make after Mank. Despite Mank being generally well received by critics, gathering numerous nominations during awards season, and fulfilling a passion project by adapting a script from his late father, it proved to be a bit divisive among general audiences, and it did not make the biggest splash for Netflix, especially compared to many of their other auteur driven releases as of late. The Killer is in many ways a back-to-basics for Fincher, going into straight genre territory like that of of his earlier work – even down to collaborating with Se7en screenwriter, Andrew Kevin Walker, who adapts the French comic by Alexis Nolent and Luc Jacamon.
However, it isn’t just that. Similar to Wes Anderson’s Asteroid City, The Killer is an example of a filmmaker actively reflecting and commenting on his sensibilities as a storyteller. You see, the unnamed Killer (Michael Fassbender) is a cold, calculating perfectionist who works with a specific rhythm, he is patient, he waits for the perfect moment to take action, and the repetitive nature of the game – being a contract killer – does not bother him in the slightest. In fact, it makes him feel more in control of his craft and his skills to get the job done. At least, until the one time he royally screws up on the job, which results in his loved one being targeted by assassins meant to tie up loose ends. So, our Killer is out to return the favor.
It’s basically a riff on Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samouraï, and maybe splashes of where we follow and track each meticulous step our lead takes to cross the next step in his plan, which is highlighted through near constant narration throughout the film. It’s not boring though, despite some of the repetitiveness. Some of the film’s sly and dark sense of humor really shines through some of these moments where the narration is interrupted or followed by something happening to our lead, often undercutting what he said just before or as he was in the middle of saying it. It’s a very funny film, at least if you like your humor pitch black.
The Killer – as in our lead – is lowkey annoyed about the very human error of his botched job. He worked so hard to scrub himself of any imperfections. He is the kind of person who brags about how cold, detached, and lacking in empathy he is. I suppose it is what the job calls for. But it really calls out the very nature of the gig economy itself, which has forced so many people into non-stop grind, not having a moment to be human, to enjoy the finer things, the small things. Everything has to be monetized, everything has to be a hustle, and the ones at the top controlling the strings don’t care about you no matter how devoted you are. There is no room for joy or humanity or a halfway decent meal. Late stage capitalism is knocking on the door, and it’s hungry.
On the surface, it’s a fairly straightforward genre exercise. The subtext is fun, but not necessary to be engaged by the narrative, which is patient but propulsive, keeping you hooked to see what the next move is. And naturally, the craftsmanship is on point. It actually has a more stripped back, borderline minimalist approach that reminds me of some of Steven Soderbergh’s work, and if I do recall correctly, he even did some very mild, off-the-books collaboration during post on this. But otherwise, reliable work as always from Fincher’s usual crew like editor Kirk Baxter, cinematographer Erik Messerschmidt, and composers Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross.
The Killer is a total blast. It’s a terrific showcase how even something that can be considered total pulpy junk can be elevated to something really impressive through the level of craft involved. Fincher has become the poster boy among a many film aficionados for his perfectionist tendencies, often used as the butt of jokes, but you can’t really argue with results like this. Few genre exercises on this level are made with this kind of confidence and refined. And I always find it interesting when a filmmaker is able to reflect on their own relationship with their work through metaphor, and it seems Fincher’s assessment about himself is about as nihilistic as one would expect, but also one that certainly has a sense of humor about it as well. I don’t know if this will go down as one of Fincher’s best film, again like with Wes Anderson’s Asteroid City, it might be considered minor work by fans, but in a weird way, it might be his most essential and naked one to date.
The Killer is currently out in select theaters, and will be available to stream exclusively on Netflix starting November 10th.