In all these ways, Zodiac creates a overwhelming, but distanced, sense of flatness, mobility, and creepiness: a kind of low-key affectivity that is as much an expression of our general mediascape as it is of the mind of a serial killer. … Fincher has mapped the stylistics, or the geography if you will, of our contemporary form of subjectivity.
As games go, Zodiac—no less than Fincher’s Se7en, The Game and Fight Club—is rigorously masculine, a double buddy movie that stretches over several years and underscores Graysmith’s desperate need for fraternal approval…
Even before it arrived on American screens during the dead of late winter, David Fincher’s Zodiac was destined to be misunderstood, since it was conceived not as a slasher movie or a killer thriller, but as a film with the grand intention of exploring how experiences change human beings.
there is so much detail in the gloom that it’s difficult to assimilate it in a single viewing, but appropriate for a film where blind alleys are given as much credence and weight as the narrative through line. As storytelling slows, the level of ambient detail increases such that the drama becomes less about easy release and more about the crushing, immobilizing weight of evidence, and a truth that lies just outside the field of vision. … in Zodiac shadows are textured, expressive, subtle, and—here comes that word again—natural, promising a wealth of detail, but yielding no information.
While nominally a police procedural film, David Fincher’s Zodiac (2007) is at its heart a film about filmmaking; it is less about the obsessive process of tracking a serial killer than about the obsessive process of creating meaningful work.