D: David Fincher. S: Gillian Flynn, from her novel. P: Leslie Dixon, Bruna Papandrea, Reese Witherspoon, Ceán Chaffin. Cast: Ben Affleck, Rosamund Pike, Neil Patrick Harris, Tyler Perry. UK dist (DVD/Blu-ray): 20^th Century-Fox.

Amiable wastrel Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) has been cheating on his gorgeous Ivy League wife Amy (Rosamund Pike), whose childhood formed the basis of her mother’s series of “Amazing Amy” children’s books. Accustomed to an affluent New York lifestyle, Amy has been obliged to settle for the life of a housewife in the sticks, after she and Nick (made redundant from their journo jobs) move back to his hometown to care for his dying mother. Initially idyllic, their marriage has since entered a decidedly rocky patch; Nick, tired of Amy’s constant disapproval, has sought comfort in the arms of a younger (and considerably larger-chested) Other Woman, whom he doesn’t love but, hey, what’s a weak-willed slob to do? For her part, Amy charts the disintegration of her marriage in the pages of her diary, in which she confides the fear that her former soulmate may well harbour a violent resentment towards her.

On the day of their fifth wedding anniversary, Nick returns home to discover Amy is gone: kidnapped, it seems, or possibly worse (to judge from traces of blood in the kitchen). Police are suspicious of his laid-back reaction, and it’s not long before Nick is pilloried in the media as a cheating love-rat who may have murdered his wife. Credit card records show he’s been profligate with money, though he claims to have no knowledge of the transactions in question: big-screen TV, golf clubs, all the techno-toys of a selfish man-child. Fast becoming the most hated man in America, Nick turns in desperation to a hotshot lawyer famed for high-profile “unwinnable” cases, and together they begin to realise the ruthless ingenuity of the plot against him…

Cracking stuff, in short. Director David Fincher’s deft interweaving of the twin viewpoints (Amy’s past journal entries, Nick’s present-day crisis) keeps his audience constantly on their toes, dropping key details into the narrative at just the right time. During the “meet-cute” flashback that opens the film, detailing Nick and Amy’s idyllic courtship (telepathic gift-giving, daring sex in the library), the viewer has just begun to heave a grim sigh when Rosamund Pike remarks: “We’re so cute I want to punch us in the face.” It’s moments like this, deftly undercutting the viewer’s expectations, that make Gone Girl a constant delight. Just as you think you’re one step ahead of the game, Fincher reveals (with a cool smile) that you’ve actually been one step behind. Gone Girl is manipulative as hell, but you don’t resent it for a moment; the film is so clever, so much fun, that to complain about manipulation seems spectacularly ungracious. It’s hard to discuss Pike’s performance without revealing too much; let’s call her brilliantly versatile, and leave it at that. Even the lantern-jawed Affleck is on good form, well-cast as the lazy, hapless fall-guy who has to wise up fast to keep out of the hot seat. Gone Girl is superlative entertainment, perfectly-judged (and, in one memorable instance, breathtakingly shocking). Highly recommended.