Following a set of characters of varying connection with the Zodiac murders over a period of 25 years is a tall task. Like biopics, true life historical films are tricky. Real life is just too random, boring, disconnected and NON NARRATIVE. It doesn't fit the stories we like to tell, because inherently the stories we like make us feel better about our lives by implying that there's order or meaning or resolution, when really there's very little of any of that. So I'm pretty impressed by the way that Zodiac creates a traditional emotional narrative arc out of material without any peak in action, aside from the murders that start everything, and a notoriously poor resolution. Just to let the cat out of the bag, no one is every arrested for the murders. Nor does anyone know for sure which murders should really be attributed to the Zodiac killer.
By focusing on the author of the true crime book on the Zodiac case, played by Jake Gyllenhaal in an earnest but childishly naive and foppish manner, the screenwriter garners the viewers' sympathy. We, like Gyllenhaal, are intrigued, fascinated by the seeming randomness of the killings, and perplexed by the letters and puzzles. But the middle of the film focuses on the actual police work, spread out over many years. The lead to the likely killer and his character development isn't exciting. The actor isn't creepy in a Hannibal Lector way, nor is he terrifying in a suspicious or secretive manner. He's just weird. And his trailer full of squirrels isn't as scary as it should be. Squirrels are crazy when trapped inside. They scrape up the walls and tear down curtains. They just weren't scary enough.
So all we're left with is the itch. And Jake the cutie. And he pushes his family away. And I could see what he was doing and that it was bad, but I didn't care. Chloe Sevigne was so mousy she was empty. So I didn't care that she left. I was glad that she took her sour face out of the film. His kids are cute, but I figured they understood, and it seems so, since they enjoy helping their dad with clues in the case.
But I will admit that the filmmakers made the climax and resolution work. They pulled it essentially out of thin air, but emotionally it was good. Jake follows a lead to a creepy house and I was sure terrified. Now that guy was creepy and ominous and threatening. And of course the basement was scary and there was a locked door full of tension. Following this the film follows with the publishing of the true crime book and the finale, the only living witness is found and identifies the main suspect. In titles, we learn that the suspect died just before they could interrogate him on the basis of this new evidence. But this ID gives the audience confidence that we know who done it. It feels resolved. And we learn that Jake's kids still love him, even though, presumably, his wife does not.
Not a great film, but competently filmmed by Fincher, our modern, precise, Hitchcockian auteur. And the story is intriguing because it's true, and we're all sickos fascinated by serial killers and kooks.
I was left scared and reminded that the killer lived for years after the murders, free to molest kids, go to jail and generally to live his life freely without justice for these crimes. Which then reminded me of the BTK murderer, who lived in suburban safety with a family and a community, all unaware of his horrible horrible actions. Killers do live among us, and aren't we all unpunished criminals in one way or another. Not that we're all sickos, just that our justice system is a great sieve.
