The Killer (2023)A lot of people tell themselves things to justify their actions. To an outside observer, the self-deception is obvious. The Killer (2023) is a crime movie about an unnamed hitman credited as "The Killer" (Michael Fassbender), who botches a job despite his rigorous preparation, and returns home both in shame and to find that his girlfriend, Magdala (Sophie Charlotte), has been assaulted in their palatial home in the Dominican Republic. Despite his narration to the contrary, The Killer sets out on a quest for revenge in a cold rage, mercilessly targeting all who brought his bloody work back home to his doorstep.
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The Killer was adapted for the screen by David Fincher from a screenplay by Andrew Kevin Walker, and from a French comic book (also titled "The Killer") by Alexis Nolent and Luc Jacamon. Fincher's signature style is all over The Killer, and it's probably best to describe the movie as an exercise in style. My first thought watching The Killer was oddly how much it reminded me of Francis Ford Coppola's The Conversation. Many comparisons have already been made between The Killer and Jean-Pierre Melville's Le Samouraï--more about that later--but weirdly I felt myself coming back to The Conversation. Both movies are about an isolated and distant man who is obsessed with his work to the point where he becomes blind to small details that make big differences. But even more than this, I thought about what both of these movies represent in their construction. While The Conversation was a relatively early film for Coppola, and Fincher's been at it a while, both films feel like an opportunity for these filmmakers to stretch their creative muscle and put their talents to the test. There is very little action in both films (aside from a protracted fight scene in The Killer), and most of the drama comes by way of intrigue and where the camera's eye directs our attentions. For example, when The Killer returns home, he finds several cigarette butts outside of his gated entrance, and immediately sets out in a sprint, gun in hand, expecting the worst. The Killer is very observant, but he doesn't always anticipate all of the events to come, despite what he tells himself repeatedly. He believes that he has constructed a world for himself that is insulated from the horrors of the outside, but he's wrong. His work makes enemies, and inevitably the repercussions of his work comes home to roost, as it did with Harry Caul. He realizes that no matter his training and expertise, he cannot control everything, and the sole revelation that he has at the end is that he is one of the "many", and not one of the "few" as he first believed himself to be in Paris at the start of the film.
David Fincher has time and again proven himself to be a master of suspenseful direction, exemplified in how The Killer is set against an achingly authentic backdrop of convincing locales. The places The Killer visits feel real, as do the streets he travels upon. This is one of the strongest aspects of The Killer, as opposed to the story. The story of The Killer--and especially of its protagonist--are sadly forgettable. In the wake of the success of the John Wick movies, I'm certain that it was a no-brainer to greenlight another hitman revenge movie, but both movies are very different affairs, even though comparisons will also be inevitable. While audiences watching John Wick should expect frequent ballet-like shootouts with the occasional questions about one's place in a society, most of The Killer is a more contemplative affair. In fact, the constant--even obnoxiously so--narration, replete with an overabundance of bon mots and other pithy observations about life by The Killer share a great deal in common with an earlier film by Fincher, Fight Club. (I actually wondered if Chuck Palahniuk was an uncredited contributor for a bit.) Nevertheless, the narration is essential to understanding The Killer, or at least to understand how he deludes himself into believing that he has no empathy. (He has very little, for what it's worth.) There's nothing wrong with having an unlikable protagonist--Fincher's films excel at this--but The Killer is largely self-absorbed and even narcissistic. He believes that by perfecting himself, he can insulate himself from pain. Yet he rushes to the hospital when he learns that Magdala has been hurt, just as anyone else would; isn't this empathy? Hitman movies generally fall into two columns: either they are about the self-proclaimed indifferent hitman who finds his humanity, or they are a revenge/role reversal, where they find themselves in the crosshairs instead, or a combination of the two. Incidentally, another hitman movie that sprung to mind watching The Killer was the (admittedly more bonkers) Branded to Kill by Seijun Suzuki. Both The Killer and Joe Shishido's Goro flub their crucial shot due to circumstances beyond their control, but both fetishize aspects of their own lives, because despite adopting an attitude of proclaimed neutrality, no man is an island, as the saying goes. Both men have sides to themselves which they are forced to acknowledge when under pressure. For The Killer, I think that he realizes just how insignificant he is in the world, even if he may be very good at what he does. The thought that lingers at the end for me is whether he truly even cares about Magdala, or if he's only gone through the motions of revenge while struggling to come to terms with own his indignation at being struck on his home turf...exposed.
If it seems as though I'm spending the majority of this essay (if not all of it) comparing The Killer to other movies, I'm aware of this, and feel as though it's inescapable on the basis of the frustratingly derivative story. I can't claim to have read the source material, but aside from the technical accomplishments by Fincher in constructing a convincingly realistic series of locations and cut together to create a sense of tension and intrigue in and of itself, there's not a whole lot going on in this movie. The Killer goes from city to city, chapter to chapter, and in each instance it builds up to a killing. (Almost each instance.) The Killer's interactions and preparation for each encounter is generally predictable and occasionally formulaic, such as his drugging of a pit bull guarding the house to one of Magdala's assailants, referred to as "The Brute" (Sala Baker). His "confrontation" with the other instigator--called "The Expert" (Tilda Swinton), although I have no idea why she's called this--amounts to The Killer keeping a steely glare affixed on her as she blathers on while taking shots of fancy whiskey. Only by virtue of Swinton's subtle performance--and a comical joke about a bear--is it clear that she's attempting to undermine his mission and defend herself without resorting to violence. Predictably, a slip on an icy step outside of a fancy restaurant reveals her true colors and The Killer's. To be honest, I felt that the conclusions to each of these chapters deflated the sense of tension and excitement of the anticipation leading up to it. The Killer often procures numerous "props" which find a use later in each encounter, although it's not always obvious what they're for, like a trash bin. Others, like sleeping pills and a nail gun, well...you don't need to wrack your imagination to figure it out. And although the comparisons between The Killer and Le Samouraï are well-earned--and even Léon: The Professional, while we're at it--because the hitman in each movie is an aloof loner with character affectations, that's about it here. For example, the Killer is just a little too into The Smiths (as is the movie), and his predilection to use the names of sitcom characters for his aliases becomes tiresome in short order. The biggest letdown in this film comes with an almost nihilistic absence of irony from our protagonist. What little change there is in The Killer has to be inferred; and while this is intriguing on one front, it diminishes the sense of meaning for everything else that preceded it. It's like if Ebenezer Scrooge just closed up his shop at the end of "A Christmas Carol", instead of having a true change of heart. The Killer is out of a job only because he's killed his boss--called "The Lawyer" (Charles Parnell)--and not because he's experienced any sort of revelation. He constantly tells himself to only do what he's paid to do, but nobody's paying him to get revenge. And when he faces the obnoxious client who hired him in the first place, a billionaire named Claybourne (Arliss Howard), he uncharacteristically spares him. It's doubtful that The Killer has discovered his "empathy", but if he has, the movie is too cagey to justify this. Is he afraid of more retaliation should he follow through with Claybourne? No, because he wouldn't have threatened him otherwise. And when all is said and done, he gets his happy ending, reclining on the porch of his beautiful estate in the depths of the Dominican Republic, set for life. The Killer mentions early on that the concept of "justice" is an illusion, even though he's spending the prologue narrating a lot of cynical platitudes just to get himself into the right mindset to execute his quarry. But is there "justice", regardless of what some hitman thinks? Whether you believe in this or not in our post-truth world will have a lot to do with your level of satisfaction with the story of The Killer.
Recommended for: Fans of a hitman movie that will either excite you--owing to its masterful direction and brutally authentic depictions of assorted cities and the like--or infuriate you if you're expecting anything resembling an original story or any sort of consistent character development. Either way, The Killer seems crafted with a singular vision in mind, whether or not it's one that you share.
David Fincher has time and again proven himself to be a master of suspenseful direction, exemplified in how The Killer is set against an achingly authentic backdrop of convincing locales. The places The Killer visits feel real, as do the streets he travels upon. This is one of the strongest aspects of The Killer, as opposed to the story. The story of The Killer--and especially of its protagonist--are sadly forgettable. In the wake of the success of the John Wick movies, I'm certain that it was a no-brainer to greenlight another hitman revenge movie, but both movies are very different affairs, even though comparisons will also be inevitable. While audiences watching John Wick should expect frequent ballet-like shootouts with the occasional questions about one's place in a society, most of The Killer is a more contemplative affair. In fact, the constant--even obnoxiously so--narration, replete with an overabundance of bon mots and other pithy observations about life by The Killer share a great deal in common with an earlier film by Fincher, Fight Club. (I actually wondered if Chuck Palahniuk was an uncredited contributor for a bit.) Nevertheless, the narration is essential to understanding The Killer, or at least to understand how he deludes himself into believing that he has no empathy. (He has very little, for what it's worth.) There's nothing wrong with having an unlikable protagonist--Fincher's films excel at this--but The Killer is largely self-absorbed and even narcissistic. He believes that by perfecting himself, he can insulate himself from pain. Yet he rushes to the hospital when he learns that Magdala has been hurt, just as anyone else would; isn't this empathy? Hitman movies generally fall into two columns: either they are about the self-proclaimed indifferent hitman who finds his humanity, or they are a revenge/role reversal, where they find themselves in the crosshairs instead, or a combination of the two. Incidentally, another hitman movie that sprung to mind watching The Killer was the (admittedly more bonkers) Branded to Kill by Seijun Suzuki. Both The Killer and Joe Shishido's Goro flub their crucial shot due to circumstances beyond their control, but both fetishize aspects of their own lives, because despite adopting an attitude of proclaimed neutrality, no man is an island, as the saying goes. Both men have sides to themselves which they are forced to acknowledge when under pressure. For The Killer, I think that he realizes just how insignificant he is in the world, even if he may be very good at what he does. The thought that lingers at the end for me is whether he truly even cares about Magdala, or if he's only gone through the motions of revenge while struggling to come to terms with own his indignation at being struck on his home turf...exposed.
If it seems as though I'm spending the majority of this essay (if not all of it) comparing The Killer to other movies, I'm aware of this, and feel as though it's inescapable on the basis of the frustratingly derivative story. I can't claim to have read the source material, but aside from the technical accomplishments by Fincher in constructing a convincingly realistic series of locations and cut together to create a sense of tension and intrigue in and of itself, there's not a whole lot going on in this movie. The Killer goes from city to city, chapter to chapter, and in each instance it builds up to a killing. (Almost each instance.) The Killer's interactions and preparation for each encounter is generally predictable and occasionally formulaic, such as his drugging of a pit bull guarding the house to one of Magdala's assailants, referred to as "The Brute" (Sala Baker). His "confrontation" with the other instigator--called "The Expert" (Tilda Swinton), although I have no idea why she's called this--amounts to The Killer keeping a steely glare affixed on her as she blathers on while taking shots of fancy whiskey. Only by virtue of Swinton's subtle performance--and a comical joke about a bear--is it clear that she's attempting to undermine his mission and defend herself without resorting to violence. Predictably, a slip on an icy step outside of a fancy restaurant reveals her true colors and The Killer's. To be honest, I felt that the conclusions to each of these chapters deflated the sense of tension and excitement of the anticipation leading up to it. The Killer often procures numerous "props" which find a use later in each encounter, although it's not always obvious what they're for, like a trash bin. Others, like sleeping pills and a nail gun, well...you don't need to wrack your imagination to figure it out. And although the comparisons between The Killer and Le Samouraï are well-earned--and even Léon: The Professional, while we're at it--because the hitman in each movie is an aloof loner with character affectations, that's about it here. For example, the Killer is just a little too into The Smiths (as is the movie), and his predilection to use the names of sitcom characters for his aliases becomes tiresome in short order. The biggest letdown in this film comes with an almost nihilistic absence of irony from our protagonist. What little change there is in The Killer has to be inferred; and while this is intriguing on one front, it diminishes the sense of meaning for everything else that preceded it. It's like if Ebenezer Scrooge just closed up his shop at the end of "A Christmas Carol", instead of having a true change of heart. The Killer is out of a job only because he's killed his boss--called "The Lawyer" (Charles Parnell)--and not because he's experienced any sort of revelation. He constantly tells himself to only do what he's paid to do, but nobody's paying him to get revenge. And when he faces the obnoxious client who hired him in the first place, a billionaire named Claybourne (Arliss Howard), he uncharacteristically spares him. It's doubtful that The Killer has discovered his "empathy", but if he has, the movie is too cagey to justify this. Is he afraid of more retaliation should he follow through with Claybourne? No, because he wouldn't have threatened him otherwise. And when all is said and done, he gets his happy ending, reclining on the porch of his beautiful estate in the depths of the Dominican Republic, set for life. The Killer mentions early on that the concept of "justice" is an illusion, even though he's spending the prologue narrating a lot of cynical platitudes just to get himself into the right mindset to execute his quarry. But is there "justice", regardless of what some hitman thinks? Whether you believe in this or not in our post-truth world will have a lot to do with your level of satisfaction with the story of The Killer.
Recommended for: Fans of a hitman movie that will either excite you--owing to its masterful direction and brutally authentic depictions of assorted cities and the like--or infuriate you if you're expecting anything resembling an original story or any sort of consistent character development. Either way, The Killer seems crafted with a singular vision in mind, whether or not it's one that you share.