Newton's third law of motion tells us that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. This certainly applies to the physics of Hollywood releases: As the studios increasingly turn to bombastic, over-the-top SFX movies, the critics react by praising every studio release that still has real acting and a script.
Still, a knee-jerk reaction is no good way to judge a film. Take David Fincher's "Zodiac," a realist look at the hunt for a notorious serial killer in late-1960's/early-70's San Francisco, which received widespread acclaim from the critics despite being about as exciting as watching paint dry. Serial killer films have been on the downhill ever since "Silence of the Lambs" in 1991, and we've seen the ridiculous ("Hannibal") and the disgusting ("Saw"), but it takes a truly special talent to make a serial killer flick boring.
That, dear reader, is what Fincher — a director who's made such nondull films as "Se7en," "Fight Club," and "Panic Room" — sets out to do here. He crams three murder scenes into the opening 20 minutes to make you scared as hell, then he spends the next two hours going absolutely nowhere, which seems to be the film's point.
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