ZODIAC

by Kevin Koehler

WHEN I DIE I WILL BE REBORN IN PARADICE [sic] AND ALL THE [sic] I HAVE KILLED WILL BECOME MY SLAVES I WILL NOT GIVE YOU MY NAME BECAUSE YOU WILL TRY TO SLOI [sic] DOWN OR STOP MY COLLECTING OF SLAVES FOR MY AFTERLIFE

- translated Zodiac cryptogram

We tend to make our own monsters. There are the ones born into the world as babies only to be shaped into maniacs and murderers. Then there are others that only truly exist in the collective mind, where one attention-starved madman can collude with media to create headlines and fear. What was it about the late 20th century monster incubator that created such a uniquely-deranged killer like the Zodiac, a man who manipulated the press, quoted films, gave himself a logo, and took his moniker from a wristwatch advertisement?

It's not known precisely how many victims of the Zodiac there were. He claimed as much as thirty-seven, but he was a liar and lying murderers can't be trusted. Investigators only agree on seven, all in a ten month period between 1968 and 1969. Five died and two survived. No one was ever caught, but there are a number of suspects; what we know about the Zodiac is what he told us, through his taunting letters, and what we can read between the lines.

The Zodiac couldn't just kill people; he made sure people knew about it. A few weeks after taking his fifth and sixth victims on a lover's lane in Valejo, California, the Zodiac sent letters to a number of newspapers claiming responsibility and demanding they print a cryptogram he'd made on their front pages; a "kill rampage" would follow if they didn't. The San Francisco Chronicle was one of these newspapers, and they would receive many more.

Robert Graysmith (Gyllenhaal) is a cartoonist for the Chronicle, divorced with two kids. He's also socially-awkward and his coworkers call him "retard" behind his back; most importantly, he likes puzzles. Graysmith and crime beat reporter Paul Avery (Downey) are present when the first of the Zodiac letters arrive. The editors debate whether to print it, weighing civic duty and bleed-and-lead journalism. They print it, but on page five. Graysmith ultimately takes it upon himself to investigate the murders, at the expense of family, career, and whatever else cartoonists do. After the Zodiac's senseless murder of a cab driver, everyman police inspectors Toschi (Ruffalo) and Armstrong (Edwards) are assigned to the case. Bodies pile up, but questions are raised as to whether the Zodiac is responsible or simply wants people to think he is.

As in Man Bites Dog, one wonders whether someone like the Zodiac would kill if he didn't have an audience; like that film, Fincher's brilliant Zodiac carries no visceral thrill in death. Each scene between murderer and victim, confined to the picture's opening third, are as disturbing as they are meticulously crafted (one of the more psychologically unnerving sequences features no killing at all). Fincher has always been renowned/infamous for his attention to detail and the procedural minutiae on display in here is awe-inspiring even by the director's anal standards; Zodiac meticulously reconstructs investigative techniques at a time without fax machine so much as cell phone and women still accepted rides from strange men on a lonely stretch of road.

Like bringing eyebrow tweezers on an airplane, those times are gone. The Zodiac says in one letter: "I shall no longer announce to anyone. When I committ my murders, they shall look like routine robberies, killings of anger, + a few fake accidents." He also threatens to shoot school children and would like to see people wearing "some nice Zodiac buttons." He sees himself as less a killer than a marketable brand (one murder is committed in something akin to a superhero disguise, logo emblazoned across the chest); if there is something he craves more than blood, it is fame (he's not the only one: Avery undermines the police investigation in order to scoop his fellow reporters). The Zodiac wants us to be afraid; for this, he needs newspapers like the Chronicle and a people who fear calculated death by madman over freeway pile-up no matter which has the higher body count.
 
Interesting footnote: In a 1974 letter to the Chronicle, the Zodiac described The Exorcist as "the best saterical (sic) comidy (sic)" he had ever seen. Exorcist author William Peter Blatty would later write Legion, featuring a serial killer loosely based on the Zodiac. Blatty himself directed the big screen adaptation of his novel, released in 1990 as The Exorcist III.

© Pretentious Musings. This review may not be reprinted, in whole or in part, without the express consent of its author.