‘The Killer’ embodies an amalgamation of missed opportunities

“The Killer” R | 119 minutes Director: David Fincher. Writers: Alexis Nolent, Luc Jacamon, Andrew Kevin Walker. Stars: Michael Fassbender, Tilda Swinton, Charles Parnel

“The Killer” is a cinematic puzzle, a blend of genres that struggles to find its footing, oscillating between the mundane realms of a tepid thriller and the barren landscape of humorless satire. In the hands of a celebrated director like David Fincher, one anticipates an intricate tapestry of storytelling, yet the film falls short of such expectations, squandering its technical finesse and stylistic flourishes in a hollow, meandering narrative.

The film’s opening credits herald a return to Fincher’s trademark visual flair, reminiscent of the grimy yet captivating montages from “Se7en” or “Mindhunter.” However, this fleeting promise swiftly dissolves as the tale unfolds, introducing us to an anonymous assassin (Michael Fassbender) navigating Paris, perched in a seemingly unused WeWork office space, meticulously detailing his modus operandi through ritualistic voice-overs a la Patrick Bateman in “American Psycho.” Initially poised as a satire on the assassin trope, the film quickly abandons this angle, plunging into a methodical yet directionless plotline.

Fassbender’s portrayal of the titular Killer occasionally punctuates the film’s otherwise monotonous trajectory, offering glimpses of intrigue amidst the pervasive sense of inertia. There are moments of absurd humor to be found, like whenever the Killer makes a mistake (often) and whenever he finds himself outsmarted (constantly). Fassbender’s casting is note-perfect, as a man whose self-professed slick professionalism constantly falls by the wayside along with his bravado. His character’s missteps and vulnerabilities aim to infuse levity, yet these instances feel disjointed, failing to reconcile the overarching seriousness of the film.

The film’s attempt to paint the Killer as a psychopathic figure devoid of conscience becomes evident in various encounters, notably a scene with Tilda Swinton where Fassbender embodies textbook psychopathic traits in his stare and demeanor. However, while chilling, this portrayal lacks depth, presenting a character more as a caricature of psychopathy than a nuanced exploration.

Tilda Swinton’s brief yet captivating appearance adds a spark of vitality to the otherwise lackluster proceedings. Her portrayal of a well-spoken hitwoman who is described several times as looking “like a Q-Tip” momentarily steals the spotlight in her limited screen time. She is a thin, elegant and witty figure whose approach to the art of killing is even more nihilistic than that of Fassbender. She likes fine food, malt whisky, and ice cream — and never loses her poise even at moments of maximum peril. She gets most of the best lines in the movie although her screen time is fleeting.

Despite the nerve-wracking score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, the film struggles to transcend the archetype of the brooding hitman pondering existential musings. The incorporation of idiosyncratic preferences and rules fails to imbue the protagonist with the depth or intrigue anticipated from a Fincher creation.

“The Killer” traverses various locations, with the Killer navigating a global cat-and-mouse game after a botched mission in Paris. His retreat to the Dominican Republic, coupled with a quest for revenge against assailants who targeted his girlfriend, attempts to inject urgency into the storyline. However, these developments feel contrived, failing to elevate the film beyond its flat trajectory.

In its pursuit of nihilism and existentialism, the film appears fixated on projecting an enigmatic figure devoid of moral compass. Yet, this pursuit falls short of providing a substantive exploration of its protagonist’s psyche, reducing the Killer to a trope-ridden entity rather than a compelling character study.

“The Killer” embodies an amalgamation of missed opportunities. While sporadically punctuated by moments of dark humor and psychological intrigue, these instances fail to salvage the film from its overarching sense of banality and lack of direction.

Frankly, “The Killer” is a perplexing concoction that tantalizes with its initial promise but ultimately succumbs to its own vacuity, leaving viewers grasping for substance within its tangled web of self-indulgence and unfulfilled potential. ♦