The Killer by David Fincher…let’s talk about this film.
We will skip the preamble because I’m not dealing with the B team here. You’re Outposters. Spoilers will abound.
The Killer
The Killer is oddly rewatchable to me. I’ve seen it five times now. Once it ends, I could theoretically hit the restart button and immediately watch it again, with nary a qualm.
A number of reasons exist for this. First, I’m a sucker for hardboiled narration. Almost the entire film is filled with Fassbender’s dry voiceover about his life as an assassin who makes pragmatism his religion.
Andrew Kevin Walker gets credit for the screenplay. I have a love/hate relationship with Walker. At times, he reminds me of an undergraduate who discovered Nietzsche and never looked back. Yet, Walker pushed through that phase with undeniable talent, and The Killer may show some growth in his worldview.
Some of Walker’s lines in The Killer qualify as poetry.
I’m not exceptional. I’m just…apart…
I’d give Walker the screenwriting Oscar for that line alone. I don’t know if that line exists in the graphic novel by Alexis “Matz” Nolent, upon which The Killer is based. I’ve read the graphic novel. I simply can’t remember. But that line sums up the title character perfectly.
The Killer believes that the FEW have always exploited the MANY. He made his decision to be one of the FEW. Yet, he gradually comes to realize he didn’t crack any code when it comes to making existence his bitch. All he did was make himself a cog that meaninglessly spins within the machine.
The ultimate joke is that such a philosophy overlooks the great truth: there is only one FEW. That is Death. Death makes everyone the MANY. Hence, to become one of the FEW in The Killer’s world is to be the biggest slave of all. The Killer lives for a master who has nothing else to give but a laugh at his ignorance before it snuffs him out of existence.
Only by being one of the MANY can The Killer actually use the time he has to have a life.
The Male Fantasy
Another element that makes The Killer highly watchable is that is speaks to a certain male fantasy: to be free of responsibility to pursue one’s interests with a single-minded devotion.
Let’s face it, all males have a degree of the ‘Sperg to them. If men were not tied down to a family concept, how would they live? They would live like The Killer. They would have an austere existence that contained a single chair in front of a TV. Possessions would include one fork, one spoon, one knife, one plate and one glass. They would eat in their single chair, open their mail in that chair and do everything from that chair. At night, they would go their mattress on the floor and sleep.
During the day, the man would then dedicate himself to his particular hobby. Maybe it is woodworking, metal forging, sports, art, music, video games, working out, whatever.
This is how The Killer lives. He has his home base, and then he has his hobby rooms in storage containers around the world where he can go and perfect his craft, undistracted by any extras. Each kill is that perfect model airplane he puts together, paints under a magnifying glass and lovingly sets in his display case.
Many men who watch that kind of lifestyle from the distance put on them by responsibility have a part within them that yearns…
Fincher Kills It
Then there is the man himself as another element in The Killer’s favor. David Fincher absolutely excels at depicting procedure onscreen.
There is little action in The Killer. The movie is mostly about the character going through his process, going through his process, going through his process.
And it is riveting because Fincher makes the viewer participate in the process.
Fincher films The Killer in a minimalist style. Everything has Fincher’s trademarked urine filter when it comes to lighting, and the shots are clinically delivered in a Kubrickian-style. Nothing really wows a person, but it is all lovingly framed and narratively precise.
When the action does happen, it is fairly brutal and maybe even a bit meanspirited. When the Brute falls on a broken table and gives himself a wooden enema, it is the wince-worthy moment.
The Killer is merciless when he kills, little more than an abacus coming to a mathematical conclusion. You can see the gears turn in Fassbender’s head as he weighs his actions. The scary thing is that death is already a known quantity. He is simply assessing if it is the right time. Has he gotten all of the information he needs? Has he appropriately covered his tracks? Is his exit strategy in place?
If the numbers come up on those questions, then BAM! The target’s time has come.
Fassbender Also Kills It
That brings us to Fassbender himself. In my opinion, Fassbender has not yet been sufficiently leveraged. He reminds me of Peter Cushing but with a more masculine, rather than intellectual, quality.
I am certain a classic action movie starring Fassbender could be made. I am also certain a classic Hammer-style horror movie with Fassbender in a Cushing-type role could be made.
I’m afraid we will never get them. After the Assassin’s Creed bomb, Fassbender probably isn’t going to get that big tentpole release any longer.
But, hey, at least we have The Killer. Fassbender is perfect in the role. He is a calculating, cunning robot of conscientiousness and ruthless efficiency. He never seems like a Terminator, however. His flesh-and-blood quality is always apparent. He may forbid empathy, but it still lurks within regardless.
Fassbender takes a very grounded, everyman approach to his work that is eerily-relatable to viewers. He turns assassination into something as mundane as a visit to a hardware store, ordering a tool from Amazon Prime or taking advantage of a free membership at a gym. Fassbender’s performance makes the lifestyle seem like it exists on everyone’s doorstep.
Fassbender’s narration of Walker’s dialogue is also on point. He delivers his deadly mantras with a soft lilt to his voice that makes it all sound so practical. He could just as well have a YouTube channel that talks about how to change the seat-warmer fuse in your 2013 Toyota Rav 4.
A Flaw Reveals Itself
Despite all of these things, The Killer is undeniably flawed. I’m not sure how to view this flaw. It basically boils down to the push-pull that can develop when choosing between a conventional approach or trying to deliver something that is a bit more on the intellectual side.
I don’t like how The Killer ultimately moves backwards in its momentum. Once the Killer gets his bearings on his path of revenge, the path goes like this.
The biggest action scene of the movie with a target.
A tense conversation with a target.
Walking away from a target.
Conventionally, it should probably go the opposite way, so that the momentum builds and builds, and the movie goes out with a rousing bang.
It is unsatisfying how The Killer flows after Fassbender’s encounter with Tilda Swinton. We then watch him gear up for yet another kill, expecting a finale, only to have it not happen.
The coda of Fassbender back at his home base, with the realization that he is now one of the MANY is wonderful. That is a genuine character journey, folks. So eloquent in its simplicity.
Yet, the action movie fan in me simply wants to see it all play out in a way that builds and builds rather than fizzles out. The fight between The Killer and The Brute is great. One naturally expects the climax of the movie to top it. Instead, the confrontation with the “big bad” is simply Fassbender walking out on a nerdy tech bro played by Arlis Howard.
Obviously, Fincher and Walker knew what they were doing. Yet, we don’t have to necessarily like it.
The Killer Analysis
The OCD assassin is probably a genre unto itself. One has movies like Day of the Jackyl, In The Line of Fire, The Accountant, etc. Where does The Killer fit among them?
I can’t blame folks if they view The Killer as one of Fincher’s lesser works. It certainly hits the target for me. Its lack of a bombastic ending is the only real reason it hits slightly wide of dead centre.
