Ben Affleck can certainly relate to the persistent media scrutiny his character endures in "Gone Girl."

While Affleck has never been accused of murdering a spouse, the Internet crazies spewed plenty of vitriol regarding his recent casting as Batman.

Of course that's just a jumping-off-point for "Gone Girl," a potent indictment of mass media hysterics, especially with our culture's obsession with sex-tinged true crime. There's a caricature of Nancy Grace in "Gone Girl" which doesn't stray far from Grace's actual behavior on cable TV.

"Gone Girl" is popular for more reasons than the mockery of an easy target. Gillian Flynn's novel is a true rarity - a bestselling book that isn't about teenagers in a post-apocalyptic and/or fantasy world. It's about sex, gender, murder and a really complicated marriage.

Flynn adapted her own novel for the screen, and "Gone Girl" the film is directed by David Fincher, working in the same palette as his other dreary hits, including "The Social Network," "Fight Club," and the American version of "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo."

For most moviegoers, this information is really all you need to know about the quality of "Gone Girl." The author of the book personally shepherded the story to the screen, and the director is one of the most skilled and stylistic in the business. You know what a Fincher movie looks like, and "Gone Girl" plays right into his wheelhouse.

Fincher's technical prowess, to me, has always been at the forefront of his films, and I often struggle to find a compelling enough connection to his story and characters, even when the plotting is technically proficient. I have that same problem with the central characters in "Gone Girl," even as the performances are predictably excellent.

On the morning of his wedding anniversary Affleck's Nick Dunne returns home to find a shattered coffee table and no sign of his wife, Amy (Rosamund Pike). Nick behaves oddly to the police, has little information about his wife's daily routine, and makes a jerk of himself in front of the cameras when Amy's disappearance gains public traction.

The public, and the audience, are to believe Nick murdered his wife. Except we know something is off. The flashbacks of Amy, told through entries in her journal, paint too perfect a picture of the true-love-gone-deadly storyline that the 24-hour news cycle demands.

The various twists and turns of "Gone Girl" are nearly impossible to discuss in generalities. Treading as carefully as possible, I struggled to find much depth to Nick and Amy as characters, and the apparent doubt we're supposed to have about their actions isn't supported by what Fincher provides the audience. Nick is very much the person he is when we first meet him, and the movie underserves Amy by focusing so much on Nick's perspective.

Vague enough for you?

I didn't read the novel before seeing "Gone Girl," but those who have read it will likely bring more of Amy into the movie. For all the interesting things the movie touches on in terms of Nick and Amy's relationship, Amy is not really a character in that depiction. Her character becomes something from a whole different kind of movie.

That undermines a fantastic performance from Rosamund Pike, who plays Amy with a go-for-broke verve which isn't often allowed for female characters in mainstream movies. Affleck, always underappreciated as an actor, provides the affable stability for a character with dirty secrets trying to appear normal in the public eye. Again, Affleck was born to play the role, especially since his filmography in the early 2000s is arguably worse than many actual crimes.

But the predictable trajectory of the central characters is most noticeable by the way supporting characters often steal the film's focus. Credit (and fault?) Fincher for casting such a fascinating ensemble: Neil Patrick Harris as a creepy fella from Amy's past, Kim Dickens as a methodical police detective, and especially Tyler Perry as a ferociously clever attorney to "star wife killers." Hollywood, please keep hiring Perry for movies far away from his Madea costume.

Every little character has something specific and interesting about them, and Fincher is a master of blocking individual scenes, as well as building dread with music and editing. "Gone Girl" has a depraved sense of humor too, which is something new and fascinating to the Fincher brand.

Still, I'm left with the nagging feeling of something missing. "Gone Girl" simplifies too much of the narrative just when it establishes great potential for stirring drama. The final half hour deflates under the weight of great promise.

For all of that, "Gone Girl" still deserves to be seen and discussed. It's a good film which flirts with greatness. I'm tired of generalities though. Talk to me after you've seen it.

Tyler Wilson can be reached at twilson@cdapress.com.