Fizzles out as quick as you can say, “Mank!”. A forgettable David Fincher film that has you pondering, “Why?”
After 2014’s Gone Girl, David Fincher quietly bowed out of making movies for six years and joined the streaming titan, Netflix. During this time he led Mindhunter, a thrilling two seasons of television that chronicles the study of serial killers around America. A show perfectly suited for Fincher’s long history with vile caricatures that reveal something human about them, albeit twisted. When word spread that he’d be returning to film-making, and doing it alongside a surging Netflix, the idea of Mank was a welcomed surprise. For someone as tactile, specific, and obsessed with the process of film-making, it appeared to be a match-made in heaven for anyone waiting for a new Fincher flick. Unfortunately, Mank lacks all the pop and whizz promised by it’s undoubtedly intriguing premise, en route to a flat, forgettable foray into the roots of inspiration and rehabilitation amidst a political power struggle.
Mank is a beauty to look at. Especially on a wicked sharp 4K TV. Black and white film-making may have never looked better, even if a little bit of film grain would have gone a long way to really amp up the immersion. There’s something so fascinating about watching a black and white movie made during the modern era. It’s like a smooth blend between something unearthed in film history, with a touch of modern techniques to create something eye-popping. With all of its intent and purpose to replicate the visual style of the 1930s, as well as the non-linear structure of the screenplay written in the film, Mank misses the mark on making any of it worthwhile. You can see the seams, the margins, the binding of the screenplay trying to make sure that it spiritually embodies the effort and thought process put into Mank’s vision for Citizen Kane. The idea is clever, and even some of the effort, but it reduces Mank to a level where it becomes more obsessed with being like something else, rather than it’s very own thing.
Beyond Amanda Seyfried, the cast’s talents seem underutilized. For as terrific as Gary Oldman almost always is, this role appears capable of being played by anyone. Just a few years removed from his Oscar for a flashier performance in Darkest Hour, and Oldman turns in a relatively fine performance. Even someone as fun as Charles Dance phases in and out of the movie like he was never there. Which is why Seyfried’s performance stands out the most. Not only does she disappear in the role, but she fits in so well. As an actress who is most known for her smaller roles in comedies and often silly comedic sensibilities, her charm is unshaking. Although she isn’t in the film as much as I would’ve liked, every time she’s on screen there is a presence you can feel radiate off the screen like a glowing beam of color in a black and white world.
As for David Fincher, I don’t see why he took on this project. As a director who is known for his very specific shooting routines, you would think that it would compliment this story tremendously. Considering that he could probably lend some of his experience and personality to a film that requires a keen attention to detail, and a nonlinear structure. A type of structure he’d dealt with a decade ago, and mastered. The nonlinear story, again, calls back to the technical masterclass of what Citizen Kane accomplished at the time, but it’s not edited well. Things happen, but it never feels like it's meaningful to what comes next, and vice versa. There’s no real semblance of a vision or clearly defined next step in the story. Which would be great if it was a story that relied more on audience participation, rather than raking in straightforward information to relay to the audience.
For all of the potential, the cast and crew involved with this film, Mank rings up as a massive disappointment. Having waited six years to see Fincher return to film-making and deliver an instantly forgettable movie is really heartbreaking more than anything else. None of this amounts to anything remotely special, and Fincher favorites Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross deliver a score that could be picked out of any old timey movie. It’s really a bunch of wasted talent that doesn’t amount to capitalizing on it’s treasure chest full of material worth salivating over. This is sure to be Fincher’s most divisive work yet, especially amongst Film Twitter, and maybe Fincher is better off staying with TV for now.