A personal history through David Fincher

Punk. Genius. Prophet. These are the first three words that appear on the teaser trailer for The Social Network. Funnily enough, they could easily describe the movie’s director, David Fincher, one of the first generation of filmmakers to come from music videos and one who turned the studio system on its head before they were even aware of it. Fincher made shocking and disturbing movies that were before their time in the ‘90s, and created visually stunning period pieces in the ‘00s. This week, his first movie of the new decade, The Social Network, is out in theaters. You have to watch it.

David Fincher is the only director whose every film I’ve seen first in a movie theater. I remember watching each of those films vividly; I remember where I saw them, and how they affected me. Also, like Paul Thomas Anderson, Danny Boyle and Christopher Nolan, he is one of those directors I’ve seen grow through the years from maverick to master. It is interesting looking at his oeuvre and seeing how he’s grown as a filmmaker. Come to think of it, it is interesting looking at his oeuvre and seeing how I’ve grown as his audience…

 Alien³. (1992, Quad)

(This specific section has spoilers, so if you’re not familiar with the Alien films, skip this and watch the movies!)

This doesn’t really count as a David Fincher film, but more of an Alien film. Alien³ is universally hailed as the worst film in the quadrilogy, but I suspect for reasons other than being a bad movie per se. After the harrowing two-and-a-half-hour journey through James Cameron’s brilliant Aliens, the audience is left with four survivors: Ellen Ripley, Cpl. Dwayne Hicks, the young girl Newt and the android, Bishop. When the movie begins all of them — except Ripley — are dead. That, plus the fact that they actually kill Ripley at the end of the film is rather upsetting to Alien fans.

Profile of a prolific director: Yes, this is the man who was responsible for flicks that are on most “favorite” lists — Se7en, Fight Club and The Social Network.

As a stand-alone film, it isn’t bad at all. Having Ripley trapped in a male-only prison planet, hunting down an alien in a secured area with no weapons, makes for a tightly woven and moody thriller with enough scares and classic Alien moments.

 Se7en. (1995, Greenbelt 1)

I was 14, a budding movie fan. All I knew about Se7en was that it was a serial killer film starring the guy from Interview with the Vampire. I was heavily into gore and violence, and though the film has its moments, it was pretty tame compared to the stuff Tarantino and Scorsese were coming out with. I couldn’t understand why I was so disturbed when so little was shown. Around 15 viewings later I realize it’s because of the mood Fincher sets: the crushed blacks, the constant rain, the flashlights cutting through the darkness and hitting the camera.

Se7en is still Fincher’s strongest film. It’s been 15 years and I’m surprised at how current and powerful it still feels. This is not only the film that made Fincher, this is also the one where it seems he came into his own as an artist.

(Note: Watching the movie in the theaters I remember there being a freeze frame with the word “envy” when they cut to Gwyneth, and a freeze frame with the word “wrath” when Detective Mills guns down John Doe. I found out later on that the distributors had inserted it because they didn’t think the general public would understand the ending. Just one of those things.)

 The Game. (1997, Sta. Lucia East Grand Mall)

It was that time during college where I was just getting to know my bloc mates, and would try to bond with them. I dragged them to The Game, a movie that seemed less interesting to them than watching Titanic for the third time. I had, however, waited two years for this (which, to teenagers, is a long time).

The Game is still an intelligent and unpredictable thriller about Nicolas Van Orton, a millionaire who’s lost his lust for life and is enrolled by his brother into a real-life game to help him recapture it. Soon after, Van Orton is under attack, and the “game” might not be too real after all. There are moments, such as the ending and Van Orton’s flashbacks of his father (beautifully shot on 8mm film) that are transcendent. Though the game isn’t a classic like the previous two, it’s still a worthwhile movie.

Fight Club. (1999, SM Megamall)

My best friend Marie and I were saddened that there was no theatrical date for Fight Club. The trailer alone was enough for us to declare it as our favorite movie of 1999. We managed to snag premiere tickets from 99.5 RT for an advanced screening. Before the movie started I told Marie, “If I love this film, Fincher will become my favorite director.” Ten minutes into it, I whisper into Marie’s ear: “David Fincher is my favorite director.”

Fight Club took cinema to places it’s never been before, and until now, no movie has been able to replicate its mix of visual suave, technical genius and subversion. It didn’t do well at the box office, but it ended up becoming a hit on home video. It’s Fincher at his most ambitious — a film that’s not only entertaining to watch but incisive, as well, commenting on everything from the male ego to capitalism to life itself.

At the end of the film, the opening chords of The Pixies’ Where is My Mind started playing, and Marie and I turned to each other in awe. The drums and electric guitar come in, accompanied by a multitude of explosions. I raised my hands in the air, feeling as though I had won something.

I probably did.

Panic Room. (2002, Glorietta 4)

Panic Room might be Fincher’s weakest film, with a plot more deserving of B-movies and genre films. It feels like, and probably is, an attempt to win back Hollywood’s favor after the massive flop that was Fight Club.

It still is a great exercise in cinematic technique, though, what with the use of slo-mo, sound design and subtle 3D effects. It’s also one of Kristen Stewart’s first movies, and a good 10 minutes is spent wondering if she’s a girl or a boy.

I remember this film because it came out the night before the first shooting day of my first movie. I promised myself I’d get some sleep because I was terrified and anxious about shooting. Alas, the call of Fincher was too strong.

Zodiac. (2007, Greenhills Promenade)

Zodiac marks the first of what might be seen as Fincher’s second period. Based on the real-life investigations into the Zodiac killings in the ‘70s, the film is violent and atmospheric, but there seems to be more of a predisposition towards subtlety and performance than the in-your-face visual bravado that he’s known for. Clocking in at 162 minutes, by the film’s end, you yourself feel like one of the detectives investigating the Zodiac murders.

There’s a scene towards the end of the film where Robert Graysmith, played by Jake Gyllenhaal, is having dinner with Inspector Dave Toschi, and they both come to terms with the Zodiac killer’s identity with the help of some utensils and condiments. The moment was so subtle and cathartic that I found myself tearing up not because of the story, but because the filmmaking was so good.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. (2008, Power Plant Mall)

And then there is this: the movie that finally garnered Fincher Oscar attention. It’s about a man who grows up in reverse and his unbreakable link to the love of his life was epic, dramatic, touching and heartwarming. It was a pretty good film, but it almost broke my heart for all the wrong reasons. Was Fincher going soft? Was the most rebellious gun in Hollywood going the way of Rob Zemeckis, or worse, Ron Howard? Would he spend the rest of his career making Oscar-award fodder? These thoughts genuinely worried me, until I saw…

The Social Network. (2010, Columbia Offices, Shangri-La)

…Which I was deathly excited about. I practically begged Columbia Pictures to let me see this movie because I was afraid it would end up like Scott Pilgrim and not play at local theaters.

The Social Network is masterful. When I first heard about it, I couldn’t believe that anyone could make a decent film about Facebook. However, it feels like Fincher took all he wanted to learn from making Benjamin Button and turned everything on its head. It’s a return to form, yet a complete takeoff from the director’s past work. There’s no bloodletting this time around, but all the treachery and betrayal between characters makes this as painful as the older films.

Its greatest strength is how it stands as a collaborative work. Fincher re-teams with cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth, taking us from the grays and blues of Harvard to the fiery orange of Silicon Valley. But all the flash takes a backseat to the intense, dialogue-driven script by Aaron Sorkin (whose TV show The West Wing was one of Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg’s favorites, until he found out Sorkin wrote the script for this movie). Fincher shines this time as an actor’s director, taking full advantage of young actors Jessie Eisenberg’s no-nonsense geekiness and Andrew Garfield’s puppy-dog charm to turn them into accidental billionaires Mark Zuckerberg and Eduardo Saverin. To top it all off was Fincher’s decision to tap Nine Inch Nails’ Trent Reznor to do the score. Reznor, with co-scorer Atticus Ross, gave this very classic tale the edge it needed. It’s my favorite movie of the year thus far (just like Se7en and Fight Club topped my list in their respective years), and though I’ve seen the film twice already I can’t wait to see it again.

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Earlier tonight, I was having dinner with my father, and I told him I was getting carried away on an article about David Fincher. “Who’s that?” my dad asked, and I proceeded to name his films. He was blown away.

“Wow. All of those movies were directed by one guy? I wonder why all those movies are given accolades but they never really make it a point to recognize him as the director.”

I wonder that myself.