IGNORANCE is bliss when it comes to Gone Girl.

There’s an undeniable delight watching writer Gillian Flynn wrong- foot us with this spiky satire on media manipulation and the glossy facade of celebrity marriages.

When the central characters promise to love, honour and obey until death do them part, one of them takes the vow very seriously.

Admittedly, you have to dig deep with David Fincher’s polished film to find the jet black humour, but it walks hand in hand with the sadism and torture which propel the story towards its odd denouement.

There’s a career-best performance by Rosamund Pike as the pretty wife who vanishes without trace on her fifth wedding anniversary and is presumed dead at the hands of her handsome husband (Ben Affleck).

In stark contrast, Affleck is solid, but little more, as the spouse who pleads his ignorance, yet hides secrets from the people he adores.

Gone Girl holds our attention for most its bloated 149 minutes with a couple of lulls and a disjointed finale.

Pike’s mesmerising theatrics light up the screen and there is strong support from Neil Patrick Harris as her creepy old flame.

Fincher’s direction is lean, complemented by snappy editing, and a discordant score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, who won an Oscar for their music to The Social Network.