This is the Zodiac speaking

My friend Michael Connelly, one of the world’s greatest practitioners of police procedurals, often says the best cases aren’t the ones cops work on, but the ones that work on cops.

It’s a profound statement—one that Connelly attributes to Joseph Heller(if memory serves)—and as I watched David Fincher’s “Zodiac,” just released on Blu-ray, I kept thinking about it. Few cases worked on those who worked on it like the Zodiac killer case—and not just cops, but reporters, forensics experts, and even a cartoonist.

It’s the stuff of enduring crime fiction—the unsolved case that clings to a cop like little bits of karma, haunting his or her work-obsessed days and sleepless, gin-soaked nights.

With respect to Brad and Benjamin, David Fincher’s masterwork is not the curious case of the backwards growing man-boy, but the disquieting case of the letter-writing serial killer who called himself the Zodiac.

More police procedural than a slick serial-killer flick, “Zodiac” is a slow-burn of a crime film that creeps into your consciousness and just sits there, waiting, breathing, readying to strike. It follows the investigation of the Zodiac killings that terrorized the San Francisco Bay area in the late 60s and early 70s. The Zodiac not only killed people, but created a Jack the Ripper aura by sending letters to the newspapers and daring readers to solve coded messages. But the film’s focus isn’t on the Zodiac so much as those who are working on and being worked on by his case.

All the performances in “Zodiac” are outstanding. Even so, some still standout among them—the amazing Robert Downey Jr., the awkward hero/cartoonist, Jake Gyllenhaal, and the hard-working cop, Mark Ruffalo.

Fincher and his genius cinematographer Harris Savides capture the period and feel of the city with restraint and precision, and James Vanderbilt’s screenplay is a throwback to character-driven storytelling far too rare these days.

The 70s are considered by many to be American Cinema’s best decade ever so it’s the highest compliment I can give this film and its director to say that it really fits well in the period in which it’s set. Put “Zodiac” right alongside “Chinatown,” “The Godfather,” “The Exorcist,” and “The French Connection.” It holds up. Put the name Fincher right alongside auteurs, Coppola, Polanski, and Scorsese. He holds his own.

More than anything else, I think “Zodiac” is about obsession. The cops and newspaper mens’ obsession with the Zodiac no less than David Fincher’s obsession with filmmaking or Robert Downey’s obsession with acting. This is something I understand, and it reminds me of a quote by John Gardner I often think of when I’m suffering from the tunnel vision working on a novel brings. “True artists, whatever smiling face they may show you, are obsessive, driven people.” People who are good at what they do are obsessed with it—this is no less true of teachers and homemakers than serial killers and cops.

“Zodiac” reminds me of a complex song. Unlike its pop counterparts, it’s not as catchy or obviously infectious at first, but long after bubble gum pop has lost its flavor, a great song that had to grow on you endures. I’ve seen “Zodiac” some 5 or 6 times now, and it only gets better with subsequent viewings, which makes it truly remarkable—a perfect 70s era character-driven police procedural.