The Killer review – Coolly effective neo noir

No matter your final feelings about The Killer, the new action thriller that brings together leading man Michael Fassbender and director David Fincher, there’s no question that it makes a fantastic water cooler (or coffee station) movie. It’s the kind of film that will have you theorising and debating for days, and thanks to its debut on Netflix, following a very limited cinema release overseas, a wider audience than usual can get in on the opinion action – which adds to the cerebral fun.

Based on a French graphic novel series by Alexis “Matz” Nolent and Luc Jacamon, The Killer centres on a seasoned assassin (Fassbender) who is shaken when one of his hits goes horribly wrong. The result is that he’s targeted as part of the clean-up operation by his handler (Charles Parnell). When the manhunt leads to the assassin’s loved ones being hurt, he redirects all his emotional turmoil at those responsible.

This premise belongs to at least fifty other films in the genre, ranging from top tier to the bottom shelf of a video store circa 1991. However, you have to remember it’s David Fincher – the filmmaker behind the moody, stylish likes of Seven, Fight Club, Panic Room, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011), as well as serial killer series Mindhunter – behind the camera. The Killer is Fincher at play deep in neo noir territory, not dissimilar to what Steven Soderbergh did with his all-star spy-on-the-run tale Haywire. Though, The Killer is far more heady stuff.

On that note, The Killer isn’t Fincher’s most accessible film. Unlike, say, Gone Girl, there is a deliberate opaqueness to certain events and character choices. In addition, The Killer challenges viewers to sit through an excruciating initial twenty minutes where you might be tempted to tap out due to the assassin’s pretentious, nearly non-stop inner monologue, paired with a beeping fitness tracker. If you can pass this first barrier (possibly a test), the film reveals its true nature. It’s very effective at driving home the point that contracted murder is exceptionally tedious. It requires a distinct personality type – pedantic and emotionally detached – if you want to get away with it.

While The Killer bounces across the globe to various exotic locations, and underlines its action with smart music choices, at its core it’s an anti James Bond or John Wick. There’s nothing glamorous about assassin work in this film. The paycheques can clearly fund any lifestyle, but they’re hard earned. Being a murderer for hire is more stressful than exhilarating, forcing our “hero” to turn to yoga and mantras to get the job done. Fincher routinely has the audience holding their breath – especially after the botched initial assassination – while Fassbender is a Tesla coil, keeping eyes locked on the screen. His assassin is equal parts intense and unpredictable. You never know if his guiding principle of “Forbid empathy, empathy is weakness, weakness is vulnerability” will hold or not, which adds to the thrill.

Where The Killer’s aim wobbles is right at the end. Having watched the assassin progress through his retribution list in a cycle of meticulous planning devolving into messiness, the film peters out. Its apex is an encounter with Tilda Swinton’s astute fellow assassin who has a resigned attitude to her fate, and a fondness for life’s little pleasures. After this scene, though, The Killer is likely to lose some fans as viewers are split over the film’s conclusion. Some will find it emotionally unsatisfying, while others will likely relish how intellectually you’re left with a lot to roll over in your mind. For better or worse, there’s no spoon feeding here.

The Killer is streaming on Netflix now, having joined the streaming service on 10 November.