
(Not to be confused with The Killer from 1989, 2022, 2024, or the countless other films that have gone under the same title.)
David Fincher returns with The Killer (2023), a cold, meticulous character study that mirrors its lead in tone and execution. Michael Fassbender embodies the nameless hitman with unnerving restraint, narrating his own detached philosophy while drifting from Paris rooftops to Caribbean hideouts and U.S. suburbs.
Fincher’s direction is as sharp as a scalpel — precise framing, sterile compositions, and deliberate pacing turn every moment into a calculated move. The production design and on-location shoots in Paris, the Dominican Republic, New Orleans, and Chicago ground the story with gritty authenticity, giving the film a lived-in, yet strangely vacant atmosphere.
Fassbender is mesmerising throughout. He effortlessly carries the film, achieving what few actors could do — making silence and stillness captivating. His performance is magnetic in its restraint, his every movement loaded with intent. Around him, every supporting role including Arliss Howard, Charles Parnell, Kerry O'Malley, Sala Baker, Sophie Charlotte, and Tilda Swinton is finely tuned, but it’s Fincher’s meticulous attention to detail that dominates — from sound design to wardrobe — reflecting the assassin’s obsessive methodology.
That attention extends behind the camera. Cinematographer Erik Messerschmidt cloaks the world in cool precision, each shot echoing the killer’s methodical nature. Andrew Kevin Walker’s screenplay, adapted from the French graphic novel by Alexis Nolent, balances deadpan humour with an icy procedural tone. The score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross is subtle, weaving unease rather than bombast, while the surprising use of indie rock — especially Morrissey tracks — underlines the character’s bleak inner rhythm. It’s a sonic palette that is both ironic and unsettling, reinforcing the detached mood.
As events unfold — a botched hit, brutal reprisals, and relentless pursuit — the narrative balances dark humor with icy tension. This is not a film of sentiment but of precision, where craft mirrors character. Execution, in every sense, is everything. Recommended.
Written for The Breathing Dead blog by A. M. Esmonde
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