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Review

During the 1970s, the San Francisco area was gripped by fear as an unknown serial killer who dubbed himself the Zodiac terrorized the Bay area. Officially unsolved by the police, the case was high profile and impossible to ignore. Zodiac, an adaptation of Robert Graysmith’s 1986 first-hand book giving a behind-the-scenes look into the investigation and a glimpse into a frightened city, is very much the same: a first-rate “high-profile” adaptation and totally impossible to dismiss.

Director David Fincher, who has orchestrated some bloody good work on the screen (Fight Club, Se7en), would be quite at home in detailing the gruesome killings in inventive cinematic flourishes – one shocking set piece after another. However, he has wisely chosen to blend a few genres – the police procedural, a newspaper investigation drama and a psychological thriller – to create an atmospheric, tense and gripping study in suspense rather than present a simple blood-and-gore horror-fest. Featuring great writing, smart direction, terrific performances and a hypnotic story of murder and the subsequent detective work that followed, Zodiac is more All the President’s Men than Saw, more Silence of the Lambs than Hostel. And that’s pretty good company.

The film opens on July 4, 1969, re-enacting the shooting of a young couple parked at a lovers’ lane. The editor at the San Francisco Chronicle receives a bizarre, cryptic manifesto from the killer, demanding it be published or more will die. And they do – the next killing is of a young couple by a lakeside; the scene is brutally efficient and, although there is hardly any blood spilled, it is one of the most gruesome murders ever conceived for the screen. Hitchcock is smiling somewhere.

The Chronicle’s new cartoonist, Robert Graysmith (Gyllenhaal), happens to figure out the killer’s first puzzle, and thus begins his fascination with the case, his employment at the paper giving him access to much inside information. The lead detective on the case, Dave Toschi (Ruffalo), is nicknamed Bullitt by his co-workers, and for good reason as he was not only the inspiration for the Steve McQueen movie character but Clint Eastwood’s Dirty Harry as well. As the murders continue, the two men begin separate investigations that eventually collide. Though there are a few leads, the strain on the men is evident as each tries to piece together the identity of the killer.

Fincher has done a marvelous job at re-creating 1970s San Francisco. The speak is genuine (too many times in movies modern colloquialisms make their way in period pieces – not here!), the look is authentic... you can almost smell the seafood at Fisherman’s Wharf. Though running 156 minutes, the film is lean, tight and consistently keeps you involved. The great cast helps, too, at making this a spellbinding experience.

Gyllenhaal, who was so nuanced in Brokeback Mountain and dynamic in Jarhead, is no less effective here in a shrewdly observed low-key portrayal as the mild-mannered cartoonist. He is the film’s Everyman, and is the heart of the film. Ruffalo, who has such a natural charm to him, is the film’s conscience, and when he’s outraged, we’re outraged; when he grieves, we grieve. As the Chronicle’s lead reporter on the story, Downey steals the show from the splendid ensemble. Witnessing the wear and tear on the journalist leaves little doubt as to his outcome. Obviously, the Zodiac impacted more lives than just his victims and their families.

Zodiac is probably Fincher’s most accomplished film to date, a real tour de force in storytelling and technique. That the crimes were never officially solved only adds to the immediacy of it all. We are witness to the best and worst impulses in man, and it’s fascinating stuff.

 -- David Bleiler