Word: killers
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...always been struck by the double injustice of her murder. Not only did the killer cut short her life amid immense terror and suffering, but he defined it. He-a stranger, an intruder-gave her a perverse immortality of a kind she never sought, never expected, never consented to. She surely thought that in her 28 years she had been building a life of joys and loves, struggle and achievement, friendship and fellowship. That and everything else she built her life into were simply swallowed up by the notoriety of her death, a notoriety unchosen and unbidden...
...while he was trying to help a wheelchair-bound neighbor stuck in the slush outside his Detroit home. The attacker, according to witnesses, had harassed Anthos as he rode home on the city bus. Before he died on Feb. 23, Anthos, who was gay, told police his killer had called him a faggot and later followed him off the bus. "We believe this was a hate crime," says Melissa Pope of the Triangle Foundation's Detroit office. Anthos' assailant still hasn't been caught but Pope says police believe they will catch him. The day Anthos died, police found...
Based on a book by onetime Chronicle cartoonist Robert Graysmith, the film is less a serial-killer thriller than an All the President's Men wannabe, with the young Graysmith (Jake Gyllenhaal) as Woodward and Bernstein, and his senior colleague Paul Avery (Robert Downey Jr.) as a crusty Ben Bradlee type with a lot more showmanship and a mile-wide self-destructive streak. Their sleuthing sometimes helps, mostly annoys detectives Dave Toschi (Mark Ruffalo) and William Armstrong (Anthony Edwards). When Toschi is asked, "Have you considered that the killer might be Paul Avery?", he deadpans, "Frequently...
...master he somehow still adores. The star quality has to carry the movie, all 2 1/2 hours of it, since Fincher assumes that audiences will be fascinated by the minutiae of police work while they get only a few face-on glimpses of the man Graysmith believes is the killer: Arthur Leigh Allen...
...damning, if circumstantial, evidence. But Allen parries each thrust or shrugs it off, never taking their bait, meeting their suspicions with his steely stare. You'll feel a chill in the theater, and in your blood, for it's here that Zodiac becomes the good movie the real killer was waiting for. And no one could play him better than Lynch...