A shot into the void

The new David Fincher detective “Killer” was released on Netflix: Michael Fassbender acts as a bored killer

A single killer, the owner of a dozen fake names, receives the task of removing one influential person in Paris, but the custom-made murder breaks down. Killer is brutally punished, which is why he for the first time in his life decides on personal revenge, neglecting the Code of Samurai and professional safety rules. Film critic Oleg Tundra understands the last work of the modern master of thrillers and states that this time the Fincher definitely missed the target.

“If you are not able to endure mortal boredom, this work is not for you,” Killer, hiding in the ownerless attic of the Parisian house, spins in the head of the Killer. He spends most of his time alone and in tense expectation in Spartan conditions: weapons and spare clothes are placed in a small bag, he sleeps on a yoga mat, and moves around the room without removing gloves. The killer should dissolve in the crowd, be anonymous, swift and clear: the moment of the shot is precisely tied to the beating of the pulse, and the sleep mode - to surveillance.

Almost the entire script of the “killer” is a Killer’s orders that explains the simple rules of life, and the suddenly included songs by The Smiths: so the hired killer falls asleep, calms down and switches with a monotonous internal monologue. Occasionally, the killer is lucky with murders, where you can apply the imagination: with surveillance in unexpected places, in arranged situations or gradual poisoning. But basically it is a routine: find a target, get enough sleep, aim, quickly hide on a scooter, change clothes and spread weapons and evidence in places where no one will look for them. To be calm, constantly move and in no case do not let emotions interfere with work: a killer is a boring and tiring, but not the most inventive profession.

The next target of the hero Fassbender lives in the attic in the expensive area of ​​Paris. But this time, instead of an accurate shot in the head, an annoying mistake: an escort dies by the window from the shot, and the guards hastily hide the victim. The board for a miss is not forced to wait: in the light mansion of Killer in the Dominican Republic, everything is turned upside down, and the hero’s tormented girl is in the hospital. The killer begins his personal vendetta, looking for customers and intermediaries, and, for the first time in his work, gives feelings to take over the cold calculation. And the more feelings, the more accidents, risks and errors.

The detective thriller “killer” is the return of David Fincher to his native genre land after a heavy aesthetic, very personal “mank”, where he studied not killers and pursuers, but the back of the Golden Age of Hollywood. The hired killer as a central character, Michael Fassbender in the title role, a dozen identities and flights around the world were supposed to add intrigues and the usual Fincious pace, but did not add. Before us is a passing film, not reminiscent of anything that was shot by the Fincher over the past 30 years, in depth, style and pace. Neither testosterone of the “fighting club”, nor the primitive horror of the “seven”, nor the sophisticated psychopathy of the “disappeared”.

Such a movie could be made literally any of the directors of the action of the second row, who would be slipped in the detective script and Fassbender in the title role. In the place of the killer, there could be a boron from the last parts of the franchise, Jack Ryan, Salt, someone from the clip of “RED”-in general, a decisively replaced character from spy cinema for one evening, which will not be remembered in the morning. It is not believed that such a character may have a strong affection for a woman for whom he wants to take revenge, nor that in a beige jacket on a bad day he will not attract excess attention, nor in the fact that Tilda Swinton in a gorgeous restaurant is told by a peasant, a bearded joke about a hunter and a bear.

The Fincher, almost always working with other people's scenarios, was definitely mistaken with co-authors this time: despite the presence in the credits of the author of Semey, the first violin is played by the Gam-Specarist Alexis Nilent, which clearly confused full-length films with the play algorithms. The wisdom of the hero of the Fassbender in the spirit of “I am the way I am”, “Good luck”, “The man is the wolf” and “The biggest risk is not at the moment when you need to act”-something of the PlayStation, Xbox and dialogues generated by ChatGPT. Perhaps the songs of Morrissi were supposed to humanize what was happening on the screen, but the simple texts of the British group were pretty spoiled by the firewall voice of Fassbender, reading replicas in a circle, about restraint, endurance, caution and strength. So the nickname for the character of Tilda Swinton “cotton wool”, and a clumsy joke about the bear-solid seem like a fireworks in this set of mechanical actions and optional riddles. On the screens, perhaps, there was no longer a dull killer with a dozen passports, closed in the mantra “Predict, do not improvise”. Just forget that Fincher's name is in the credits. Popures of the protagonist, if you are not able to endure mortal boredom, this movie is not for you.