Anyway, right, there's a bit in the film - and I must confess that when I saw this in the cinema this is roughly the point at which I fell asleep, though this was because of me failing Mr Fincher, and not Mr Fincher failing me -- where Morgan and Brad find the murderer's apartment, and there is a mountain of evidence.
Actually, not a mountain. Hell, not even an Everest. There is a whole Himalayan range of evidence. Frankly, there's too much. Proving the murderer's guilt with all this would be a Herculean task. What, the two lads find themselves asking, is the point?
Sitting amongst a pile of photocopies and print-outs today, as I've found myself doing far too often of late, I couldn't help but sympathise with Detectives Somerset and Mills.
Still, there are some games in this life that we play to play, not to win. Finishing the race can be more important than winning. Completion, after all, is a kind of victory.
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