Reviews: ‘The Killer’, ‘Rustin’ are solid Netflix watches but not quite masterpieces
David Fincher’s “The Killer” is currently the No. 1 movie on Netflix since its premiere last Friday.
This Friday, George C. Wolfe’s “Rustin” premieres on the streamer hoping to enter the Oscar race.
Which movie is worth your time? Honestly, both are solid watches but not quite masterpieces.
Time for a double movie review:
‘The Killer’
When I first heard that the prolific David Fincher was making a new movie called “The Killer,” I naturally thought it would be about detectives tracking a serial killer, which has been Fincher’s auteur wheelhouse in crime-mystery masterpieces, such as “Se7en” (1995) and “Zodiac” (2007), not to mention the TV series “Mindhunter” (2017-2019).
While “The Killer” is indeed written by “Se7en” scribe Andrew Kevin Walker, it is instead a slowburn action thriller told from the perspective of the killer — a coldblooded professional assassin who patiently waits for his kill shot, only for the kill shot to go terribly wrong, sending him on the run in an international search.
Michael Fassbender taps into the robotic dialogue he delivered as the Android in “Prometheus” (2012), only this time reading cold voice-over narration filled with statistics on death rates, baseball batting averages and the number of McDonald’s in France. It’s the sort of data-driven dialogue that Jack Lemmon spun into comedy gold in “The Apartment” (1960) with Fincher giving a slight nod to Lemmon by making The Killer’s alias “Felix Unger.”
While HBO’s “Barry” (2018-2023) started as a laugh-out loud comedy before plunging Bill Hader into darkness, “The Killer” is the opposite, starting out serious before finding a few comic surprises along the way. Don’t get it twisted, though; the tone mostly bends toward the dramatic as Fassbender tells himself to “stick to the plan,” “trust no one” and “forbid empathy,” talking to himself like Guy Pearce in Christopher Nolan’s “Memento” (2000).
Based on the French graphic novel series by Alexis “Matz” Nolent and Luc Jacamon, Fincher divides the film into distinct segments: “Chapter 1: Paris/The Target (patient setup), Chapter 2: Dominican Republic/The Hideout (revenge), Chapter 3: New Orleans/The Lawyer (gruesome), Chapter 4: Florida/The Brute (action-packed), Chapter 5: New York/The Expert (Tilda Swinton existentialism) and Chapter 6: Chicago/The Client” (culmination).
While these sections effectively break up the action, many mainstream viewers will find the pacing a bit slow, particularly when streaming it on Netflix with the unfortunate distractions of home. This is the type of methodical movie that would be better experienced on the big screen, featuring stylish POV shots through binoculars and sniper-rifle scopes as the protagonist gazes through various windows like in “Rear Window” (1954).
The craftsmanship is undeniable, but its cold distance keeps it far from Fincher’s undisputed Mount Rushmore of “Se7en” (1995), “Fight Club” (1999), “Zodiac” (2007) and “The Social Network” (2010). A slight cut below are engrossing films like “The Game” (1997), “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” (2009) and “Gone Girl” (2014), landing “The Killer” somewhere down around “Mank” (2020). Has Netflix stolen some of Fincher’s cinematic magic?
I won’t go that far. There is still plenty to like here. I mean, it’s David freakin’ Fincher! Let’s just say that the protagonist’s professional philosophy sums up my feelings toward this solidly-crafted but emotionally reticent film: “It comes down to preparation, attention to details, redundancies, redundancies and redundancies.”
‘Rustin’
“Rustin” tells the lesser-known story of the unsung hero who organized the 1963 March on Washington, civil rights activist Bayard Rustin, who publicly fought for equality for Black Americans, while privately fighting for his existence as a gay man in America. As he tells Martin Luther King Jr. in the movie, this dual existence wasn’t a lifestyle choice, but a double birthright: “The day I was born Black, I was also born a homosexual.”
The film features an electrifying performance by one of our great actors Colman Domingo, who is almost certain to be nominated for an Oscar against Cillian Murphy (“Oppenheimer”), Bradley Cooper (“Maestro”) and Leonardo DiCaprio (“Killers of the Flower Moon”). It’s a long overdue prize after Domingo’s Tony nomination for Broadway’s “The Scottsboro Boys” (2010), Emmy win for TV’s “Euphoria” (2022) and two Indie Spirit Award nominations for “Zola” (2020) and “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” (2020).
In “Rustin,” Domingo reunites with “Ma Rainey” director George C. Wolfe, who delivers the glossy, polished look of an assured Hollywood biopic, such as “The Butler” (2013), “Hidden Figures” (2016) or “Green Book” (2018), but never quite rises to the directorial prowess of “Malcolm X” (1992), “Selma” (2014) or “If Beale Street Could Talk” (2018).
Wolfe even includes a clever needle drop of Little Richard, arguably the most famous example of a closeted gay Black man in the ’60s. Fittingly, the script is written by Dustin Lance Black, who penned the Oscar-winning script about gay rights activist Harvey Milk in “Milk” (2008), and Julian Breece, a writer on the Emmy-winning series about the Central Park Five in “When They See Us” (2019).
Together, their “Rustin” script swiftly carries us through actual events: Rustin resigning from the Fellowship of Reconciliation, clashing with NAACP Executive Director Roy Wilkins (Chris Rock), dealing with labor unionist A. Philip Randolph (Glynn Turman), negotiating with Congressman Adam Clayton Powell Jr. (Jeffrey Wright), being critiqued by feminist Ella Baker (Audra McDonald), mourning the murder of activist Medgar Evers (Rashad Demond Edwards) and of course planning the march with Dr. King (Aml Ameen).
In fact, the second act of the script is paced so well that the ending feels too rushed. After so much buildup, audiences are excited to see the big event at the Lincoln Memorial, but instead we only see a brief song by Mahalia Jackson (Da’Vine Joy Randolph) and the final “free at last” lines of King’s iconic speech. Sure, we’ve all heard King’s real speech plenty of times, but without it, the film’s final act feels anticlimactic.
As the march organizers clean up chairs from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, the falling action at least shows the impact of the march with closing text of how the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed just nine months later and how Rustin found a lifelong romantic partner until his death in 1987, posthumously receiving the 2013 Presidential Medal of Freedom from President Barack Obama, who co-produces the film for Higher Ground Productions.
Overall, it’s a strong telling of an important story, one that is sure to garner multiple Oscar nominations, but most likely for its powerful performances as the film’s star finally rises into the ranks of the top actors in the business with a label that no one will be able to take away from him: Academy Award Nominee Colman Domingo.