Revisiting 'Panic Room,' the Older Brother to David Fincher's 'The Killer'
Low-tier Fincher is still Fincher
I’ve been wanting to revisit David Fincher's fifth feature, Panic Room (which, besides Alien 3, might be his least beloved film) for quite a while now. As I wrote in my review of The Killer, Fincher’s latest bravura, which somewhat divided his fan base, also shares many similarities with the Jodie Foster-led thriller in terms of direction, style, and technicalities. They might be very different flicks theme-wise, yet their cores are built on a high-concept premise that provides ground for utilizing and exploring the slightest technical aspects to a great extent.
As a famously obsessive and maximalist filmmaker, Fincher loves getting every seemingly bagatelle feature right and executing them to the highest quality. Though Panic Room is a bare-bones home invasion movie with a few memorable twists, a decent screenplay, and a solid cast, what still makes it outstanding in the genre is its gripping direction and meticulous focus that grants it another layer beyond the basics. Due to this high level of dedication and expertise, Panic Room remains a flick that feels fresh and timeless even 21 years after its release.
Now, I'm not the first (or last) to point out how much movement and behavior matter in every single frame with Fincher, but there’s really no scene too small to inject with variety. His camera is constantly moving, sneaking, and twisting into weird angles to create an effortless pace and an absorbing (if threatening) atmosphere that seems to be evolving all the time. This becomes even more emphasized here, in a plot that mostly takes place in one location. Just during the exposition, in which the protagonists first view the enormous New York apartment they soon move into, there are seemingly insignificant moments amplifying their own importance, which comes into play later.
But, while I do believe Fincher’s stylish direction is what keeps Panic Room among the classics today, it’s really a combination of everything that makes it work so smoothly and well. David Koepp's script revels in some absurd criminal humor, filled with pop culture references (“Hey, Zorro! You going to help us out?”) that don’t feel nearly as dated as they should, and the cadence of dialogue is truly a melody to every cinephile’s ears.
Speaking of melody, the sound design also parallels Fincher’s visual perfectionism: every footstep, glass shattering, and doorknob turn was recorded by sound designer Ren Klyce (who worked on every Fincher project since Seven) in post-production to be authentic. In an interview with The Guardian, the director elaborated on this, saying, "[Klyce] would record all the foley, all the hard effects of everything, in the actual set that we were shooting in at the weekends. He would come in and open the windows and shut them, jiggle the glass. He's insane about this, but it sounds so much better than the fake stuff. It's all just a lot of work.” Well, if David Fincher says so, I sure believe him — and the result speaks for itself.
Also, it goes without saying that the cast here is filled to the brim with great talents (Kristen Stewart well before her Twilight years, for instance) who clearly relished the opportunity to work with the director. Even Jared Leto, who’s prone to chewing scenery more often than not, is restrained enough to hit all the right notes of being a snarky-dumb asshole. But it’s Forest Whitaker’s good-hearted and fatherly thief, Burnham, who steals the show by giving layers to a one-note thief and turning him into a likable and empathetic antagonist.
Panic Room is proof that Fincher can bring out the magic from a simpler story with lesser ambitions without necessarily aiming to make another masterpiece. Low-tier Fincher is still Fincher, and movies like this (or The Killer) only make his filmography more colorful by striving for flawless simplicity instead of another genre-defining epic. They're smartly entertaining for the sake of being smartly entertaining. Not many filmmakers on Fincher’s level can afford to make something for fun, and we should be glad he’s one of them.
You can rent Panic Room on Amazon.
Earlier this week, I defended John Trengrove’s second feature, Manodrome, which received a lot of unfair criticism since its recent release.
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