Photograph: Frank Ockenfels/Netflix
The director is one of Hollywood’s most unpredictable film-makers. He discusses making a shamelessly pulpy ‘B-movie’, the misogynistic legacy of Fight Club – and the urge to film 100 takes
Steve Rose
October 27, 2023
The Guardian
For anyone who thought David Fincher’s last film, Mank, was the beginning of a new highbrow phase for the director, his latest offering will be something of a jolt. Whereas Mank – on the writing of Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane – was a sumptuous, substantial, awards-friendly hymn to old Hollywood (it was nominated for 10 Oscars and won two), his new film, The Killer, is a pulpy, violent, almost wilfully two-dimensional hitman thriller adapted from a comic book. “I will never be a more mature film-maker. I will carry the 12-year-old me with me wherever I go,” he says proudly.
Rather than growing up, it looks like Fincher is having fun – albeit in a highly controlled, Fincheresque way. He is in a particularly relaxed mode when we meet at a hotel in London. He looks healthy and he is full of wit and energy, almost as if this isn’t the umpteenth interview he has done in his 40-year career.
Despite being one of the most renowned and distinctive film-makers in the business, Fincher is not comfortable with being described as an “auteur”, or even an artist. “There’s this fallacy that film directors come in and explain exactly what it is that they want to see and then they go to their trailer,” he says. “And then it’s presented to them and they make a few revisions, and then it’s trapped in aspic for all eternity. That’s just not it. It’s much more sock puppetry and daycare and plumbing – you know, pouring concrete. It’s a lot more physical labour than people probably imagine.”
Nevertheless, with The Killer, he says: “I just didn’t want to take it quite as seriously.” He describes the film as “like a good B-movie”: lean, gripping and, despite some bone-crunching action, surprisingly funny. Michael Fassbender’s lone‑wolf hitman is almost comical in his fastidiousness, from his defiantly un-Bond dress code (“like a German tourist”), to his reusable folding cup to take on jobs, to his playlist of Smiths songs. But his well-laid plans go off the rails, forcing him to break his own rule: “Anticipate, don’t improvise.”
The Fincher Analyst 