ruggedfox28 said:If they can actually turn some supposedly trash materials into high-quality work, then maybe there's hope... The Family Just kicking him while he's down, and we'll probably end up thinking he's even better than he already is... 😉
Of course I’m interested; anything is possible, even if you manage to squeeze some actual substance out of that Hollywood nonsense. For instance, everyone is suddenly (once again!) burying Mel Gibson—totally forgetting they already laid him to rest once before—even though even the "solar-powered" DiCaprio has distanced himself from the guy.
Viking I'm just rambling away here, sort of drifting through whatever thoughts happen to cross my mind at the moment.
Honestly, getting involved in a partnership like that would probably just be a massive step backward for my career.And for what reason, exactly?
So, I went and absolutely trashed my teeth. Some drunk Russian guy in an alcohol-induced delirium finally crawled back to his wife—the woman he’s actually stood by through thick and thin for decades and the mother of his kids. I'm talking about real, organic families here, not some performative nonsense like people going on safaris in Africa or playing around with adoption.
Christian Taylor3 said:Horseshit, looks like Hollywood turned its back on Mel Gibson a long time ago. I still find myself thinking about The Passion of the Christ every now and then, mostly because it’s one of those films that just refuses to leave your head once the credits roll. It’s heavy, sure, but there's something about the way it was put together that feels almost overwhelming in its intensity. They basically cut off his funding entirely—it was almost like they officially disowned him through The New York Times or something. So, what kind of mess did that old drunk actually get us into? This is it.. ☕ I ended up producing, editing, and distributing the whole damn film entirely on my own... honestly, the big shots in Hollywood nearly killed each other just watching me pull it off. It was pure chaos. And then, predictably, the exact same thing happened all over again with... ApocalyptMel Gibson and his whole deal. Icon Yeah, exactly. Honestly, Hollywood could probably do just fine without Mel Gibson. 😁
I’m telling you, only a complete idiot or a total moron would actually raise their hand for Zen, let alone open their wallet for that kind of garbage. Anyway, I guess I'll forgive him; I was practically weeping like it was a torrential downpour when I saw the news.
The foreign press was all over this rumor that Mel Gibson was planning to pack up and move to Australia to live out his days with his ex, Robyn Moore. She actually stepped up to defend him, telling everyone he’d never been abusive, which is quite the statement given how much noise there's been lately.
There’s something honestly beautiful about a woman who actually gives a damn—someone who pulls you close right when you're at your lowest. It’s a pretty incredible feeling to lean into that strength of hers, especially when she's the one dragging me out of my own mess.Kudos to Robyn Moore. 🙏
Let's get back to Fincher. I can't help but feel like that old version of David just isn't around anymore...
I'm honestly not sure how much "entertainment value" a movie actually needs to have. Personally, I've always been more drawn to the films that leave a permanent scar on you.
And honestly, it’s worth taking a second to remember what a total clusterfuck that whole situation actually was.
I’m just someone who spends way too much time dissecting movies and overthinking plot holes that probably don't even matter. I tend to drift through life with a somewhat dry sense of humor and a tendency to write far more than necessary, usually while nursing a lukewarm coffee and wondering why certain directors can't just stick to a script. I’m not an expert by any means—just a person with some strong, perhaps overly opinionated, thoughts on cinema and a habit of being a little too self-critical about my own tastes. Expect long-winded ramblings and a healthy dose of sarcasm.:
If Fincher weren't a film director, I could easily see him stepping into some other role—maybe one of those Bond villains who gets to wipe out the entire world with a single button press, sending everything into a massive, glorious nothingness.
It feels like Fincher just can't stand the world we've built. To him, it seems like nothing more than a massive stage where he can play the role of some apocalyptic prophet, broadcasting his dark visions to an audience that he desperately wants to provoke into thinking. For this supposed "visionary" crusade, he’s basically recruited a small army of cinematic anti-heroes—ranging from that religiously obsessed killer in Se7en back in '95, to the emotionally stunted billionaire in The Game in '97, all the way up to the chaotic energy of Tyler Durden in Fight Club in '99. Each of them acts as a sort of messenger for Fincher's specific brand of cynicism, and honestly, they've become such staples of modern film and pop culture that they sometimes end up overshadowing the director's own aesthetic, especially when you look at what happened with Tyler Durden.
It took three long years for this to finally happen, but when it did, he jumped headfirst into the director's chair for that grim, unsettling thriller Se7en, based on an equally original script by Andrew Kevin Walker. It’s pretty much a given that both Walker and Pitt will become some of Fincher's most frequent creative collaborators in the years ahead.
In this tale about hunting down a religiously driven killer who punishes his victims by trapping them within their own sins—basically a twisted take on Dante’s concept of retribution—the director really starts to lay bare his own core obsessions. You can clearly see Fincher's preoccupation with things like spiritual emptiness, hypocrisy, mindless consumerism, that hollow sense of security we all cling to, and the sheer alienation of modern society. To build that heavy, suffocating atmosphere in Se7en, he plays it smart, starting off with these slow, lingering static shots before shifting gears into those frantic, rapid-fire cuts toward the end.
He spends the entire runtime dragging his characters through these gloomy, claustrophobic interiors, which really just validates that one "witty" observation about how people in Fincher's movies seem to live in spaces where the power is perpetually cut off. He keeps us trapped in this heavy gloom, only pulling us out into the daylight right at the very end. It’s hardly a coincidence that the moment he finally moves the action into a bright, outdoor setting is exactly when he decides to show us the killer for the first time. By using a directorial move like that, he’s sending a pretty loud, unmistakable signal about whose perspective he's actually choosing to champion. His version of John Doe is basically just a mirror reflecting the true crimes of our modern world—hedonism, alienation, and that total loss of identity that seems to be one of Fincher's core obsessions.
With its unconventional vibe and that gritty atmosphere, Se7en completely flipped the script on what mainstream movies were supposed to look like. It was a massive hit with both critics and audiences alike, basically cementing Fincher’s status as the definitive voice for a whole new generation of filmmakers. And honestly, after seeing that, even Alien didn't seem quite as bad by comparison.
While he was taking a breather from his feature films, Fincher spent some time tending to his old flame by directing an ad for Levi's called "Reason" back in '98.
It seems like directors start finding a bit more inspiration once they get moving. Taking the literary blueprint of Chuck Palahniuk’s *Fight Club* from 1999, the film basically distilled Fincher's entire cinematic worldview into one project, making it feel less like a standalone movie and more like the inevitable next chapter in his body of work. There’s just something about how schizophrenia is portrayed here; it’s probably the only time mental instability has ever looked this poetic. You have the narrator, played by Edward Norton, who's just completely suffocated by this mindless consumerist lifestyle and constant daily frustrations, eventually snapping and manifesting his own alter-ego in the form of that charismatic anarchist, Tyler Durden, played by Brad Pitt.
Fincher builds his atmosphere by leaning heavily on classic film noir tropes—think that moody, narcissistic, cynical narrator and those fragmented flashbacks—all wrapped up in this incredibly polished, high-end visual style. It’s pretty ironic when you think about it; he’s basically delivering a message about anti-consumerism by using every single slick, consumerist filmmaking trick in the book.
Fincher pushes the narrator's duality to its breaking point at the end of the film when he’s forced to face the other half of his fractured psyche—Tyler Durden. Once you realize that losing your identity and your sense of purpose is permanent, it only makes sense that one of them has to go, whether it's the narrator or Durden.
It feels like the director is finally letting off some steam in those final scenes, where he gets almost obsessively carried away destroying the concrete monuments built by our consumerist society through massive explosions.
At first glance, Fincher’s latest flick, 'Zodiac' (2006), seems to drift away from his usual obsessions. But once you remember that the Zodiac is one of those rare serial killers who actually got away with it, things click into place. He's just another person without a true identity. What makes this killer so unsettling isn't just the crimes themselves, but that arrogant habit of detailing everything in letters sent to the press, like the San Francisco Chronicle. Again, Fincher suggests that identity is basically irrelevant; it’s just a way for people to put names on the things they’re too terrified to actually confront. And as the Zodiac proves, fear can be just as uncomfortable when it starts living in your subconscious under a nickname.
In an attempt to nail that retro vibe—something reminiscent of 'All the President's Men'—the director decided to shoot the whole thing using the cutting-edge digital tech from Valley Viper FilmStream, which was also used for 'Collateral'.
When building his stories, Fincher often flirts with mainstream elements, but his style and atmosphere remain leagues ahead of anything else out there. For him, style serves the content and vice versa. He loves dropping his characters into these cold, dark interiors, keeping their faces lost in the shadows and using muted tones to really hammer home their internal chaos.
Look, Fincher isn't some wide-eyed idealist who thinks he can lecture us or change the world through cinema. He just keeps throwing snapshots of his own demons—alienation, false security, hypocrisy, consumerism—in front of our faces, hoping that if we stare at them long enough, we might occasionally glance back at ourselves. Because let’s be honest, most of those demons are sitting right here in our laps, too. .
That’s why Fincher stands out as one of the most vital directors working today. .
Source: FilmDaily.com
There’s a quote from Fincher that perfectly captures where he is right now:
"People always say there are a million ways to shoot a scene. I think there are only two... and one is definitely wrong."
And yet, these scenes have become movies shot in the
wrong way. 😢 So, what happened? Fincher swapped out
Andrew Kevin Walker for the heavy hitters like Eric Roth, Aaron Sorkin, and Steven Zaillian (look, I won't complain about that—that's basically the A-list of screenwriters!), but that’s exactly where the trouble starts. Academy voters—who are basically all just buddies and colleagues—weren't exactly thrilled with how Fincher handled collaborations like
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. They went out of their way to make sure the
Button crew felt like the
biggest losers of the year that night. To put it bluntly without sugarcoating it: it just doesn't work. It’s like if Lynch hired some random hack to write his next script.
It’s just bad. Honestly, I've read most of the scripts from the era before Fincher drifted toward this middle-of-the-road, mediocre stuff. What can I say? I'm sad. Just really, really sad. 😢
