"Octopus and Scrabble?" - Desi Collings

David Fincher is the master of mixing artful film-making and utterly scummy trash. Fincher lets you wallow in beautiful housing and luxury furniture but metaphorically drags you through a bush, filled with heroin needles and broken beer bottles in Gone Girl, which delves into even deeper depths than The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo could ever hope to achieve. Adapted as quickly as Gillian Flynn's source novel flew off the shelves in 2012, it's an unexpectedly considered work that shows Fincher at the top of his game with what is easily his most angry and venomous film since Fight Club's flurry of testosterone-fuelled rage.

Yet Fincher proves his mettle by not just relying on the male side of the story. Instead, the dual-narrative of Flynn's book provides the wonderful balance that makes Fincher's latest the unpredictable rollercoaster ride it is. The dissection of marriage is less an autopsy and more a mutilation of 'True Love', pulling no punches and going all the way in its adamant objective to create the ultimate anti-date movie (I saw it on a date, and me and my girlfriend are still together, so they weren't entirely successful...)

If the tone might be ludicrously dark and excessive to the point where it borders on over-compensation, the casting is so pitch-perfect that it's difficult to fault the actors who are normally easy targets. The biggest pot-shot-attractor might be Ben Affleck, an actor known for his bad blockbuster decisions and wooden delivery in even his best roles. Yet, Affleck hits the bulls-eye with a role so tailor-made for him that it fits him better than any Batsuit ever will. Nick Dunne's muted reaction to his wife's disappearance is exactly what the film needs to give it an extra dash of uncertainty about who is to blame for the soon-national uproar of the missing 'Amazing Amy'. The 'comedy' force that has never reached the UK, Tyler Perry, pops in the supporting role of a deliciously charismatic criminal lawyer and fully convinces, while Neil Patrick Harris' first post-How I Met Your Mother role is one laced with menace, humour and a dormantly predatory nature. Even the ever-youthful Patrick Fugit is positively dead-on in his walk-on role as a cop who thinks simple answers are the best; he's still the boy from Almost Famous, his naivety being an odd driving force to the story's intrigue.

Yet the most surprising performance might not be the best performance. It's the most surprising character that rewards the actor playing them with plentiful accolades. Rosamund Pike gives an indescribable performance in a spoiler-free review, so I will simply leave that space blank and say that the dark horse has entered the race for the Best Supporting Actress Oscar.

Flynn's screenplay, adapted from her own novel, is a taut and quickly-paced marvel, sustaining itself for 149 minutes without the action sagging or the story boring. Every character gets a chance to breathe in the on-point ensemble, with only some late additions like Neil Patrick Harris' Desi feeling a little under-used. But on the whole, Flynn juggles the dual-narrative with the very same skill that made her novel a roaring success in the first place.

Peppered like a messy shotgun wound with Fincherisms like a thrumming soundscape from Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross and some hugely-immersive cinematography from regular collaborator Jeff Cronenweth, it's the guiltiest of pleasures from the slickest of directors. With the only obvious bum-note being some god-awful, mumbling sound editing in the opening scenes, Gone Girl is a nearly-faultless blending of modern art aesthetics and pulpy trash.

Next up for Flynn and Fincher is the Utopia remake. If they give something as good as this, the best UK TV programme in years is in safe hands.