GONE GIRL (Rated R)

No, I haven’t read the book. Just about everybody else, it would seem, has devoured Gillian Flynn’s thriller novel “Gone Girl” with exceptional passion.

My reading preferences tilt primarily to nonfiction, everything from politics and history to sports and culture.

Apparently, I am missing out on the Gillian Flynn phenomenon, and as a result, I am unable to form an opinion as to whether the screenplay is faithful to the book.

The educated guess is that the film is, indeed, true to the source material, if for no other reason than Flynn adapted her story for the big screen.

“Gone Girl” is directed by David Fincher, whose resume includes films from “Fight Club” to “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.”

Amusingly, the press notes don’t mention his extensive biography, only pointing out that Fincher directs movies, television, commercials and music videos, with the caveat that “he hopes that people like them, but if they don’t, it is not for lack of effort.”

Lack of effort is not a problem for Fincher’s “Gone Girl,” nor is it an impediment for the actors, with Ben Affleck and Rosamund Pike, front and center as married couple Nick and Amy Dunne, the latter a semi-celebrity for having been the inspiration for a popular series of children’s novels in which she’s known as Amazing Amy.

The origin story for Amy and Nick Dunne begins in New York, when their attraction to each other plays out with a sexual intensity that seems a little perverse, as if their acts of passion foretell trouble ahead at some point.

In one of many flashbacks, we see them engaged in a quick tryst in a dark corner of a public library.

The early years of marriage were apparently blissful, with Nick a major magazine writer and Amy gliding along as the sexed-up “cool girl” who never developed her own persona as the result of growing up in the long shadow of her alter-ego, the impossibly perfect “Amazing Amy.” And yet, her nebulous identity looms large when the mystery kicks in.

In the present day, Nick and Amy have relocated to his Missouri hometown, drawn to the Midwest for family reasons and due to the economic downturn, which has caused Amy to leverage her trust fund into a highly-mortgaged property in a town for which she has little interest for the long term.

Meanwhile, Nick is teaching at a local college and running a local tavern with his supportive sister Margo (Carrie Coon), a refreshingly opinionated straight-talker who has her brother’s back when the going gets tough.

And the going gets tough rather quickly on the occasion of the couple’s fifth wedding anniversary, when Nick comes home after a morning walk and visit to his bar.

He finds broken furniture and signs of a struggle. His wife is missing and nothing suggests her vanishing is not out of the ordinary.

Two local detectives (Kim Dickens and Patrick Fugit) are on the case, and at first, they treat Nick’s concern for his missing wife with fitting belief. After traces of blood are found on the kitchen floor, Nick becomes the prime suspect.

To make matters worse, within a matter of a few days, Amy’s disappearance becomes the object of media frenzy and the townsfolk volunteer for search parties and candlelight vigils.

In the public eye, Nick comes across as a husband not sufficiently apprehensive about his missing wife.

The negative power of tabloid journalism comes impressively to the fore when a national TV talk show host (Missy Pyle) endlessly speculates about Nick’s culpability in the unexplained departure of an attractive woman who is a sympathetic figure, no doubt as the result of her literary alter-ego’s continuing popularity.

On the other hand, Nick’s media persona is not pretty. He appears somewhat petulant and resentful, holding back secrets.

Moreover, his relationship with Amy’s parents is distant and vaguely hostile. Appearing at a vigil in front of a large missing poster with Amy’s picture, Nick is more uncomfortable than appropriately distraught.

Public opinion moves swiftly to confirm the suspicion of the police that Nick is the culprit. The two detectives take great interest in Amy’s diary, which paints an unflattering picture of Nick’s past behavior.

The media storm becomes even more intense when Nick has no other choice than to hire high-powered defense attorney Tanner Bolt (Tyler Perry).

Even a sharp lawyer is unable to keep Nick from flailing in the media spotlight. On the other hand, Amy’s vanishing becomes a kind of hall of mirrors in which tantalizing and savage secrets lead to more of the same.

At this point, it would be impossible to say more about what is happening for fear of disclosing any of the many twists and turns that hold real surprises.

“Gone Girl” offers many questions: Who is Nick? Who is Amy? How did they come to this state of affairs in only five years of marriage?

The film has plenty of voice-overs that offer both Nick and Amy the opportunity to put forth their sides of the story.

“Gone Girl” is a riveting multidimensional mystery thriller, alternately perverse and disturbing and chilling in the depravity of bloody events that are shocking and astounding.

“Gone Girl” is likely to be as appealing to movie audiences as to readers of the best-selling novel.

Tim Riley writes film and television reviews for Lake County News.