Gone Girl demonstrates how a well constructed narrative can prevail over reality. Amy's version of events contains all the classic elements of a typical "true crime" program including the violent husband a turbo-charged life insurance policy and an ice cold Pepsi twist: pregnancy. Early on, the film introduces the idea that people can be easily pigeonholed. Which is a tasty bit of foreshadowing, since Amy is a professional pigeonholer. The media moulds Amy and Nick into a perfect wife making a mess all over the living room carpet. A coerced smile on television turns into damning evidence of Nick's heartlessness. With the help of his lawyer, Nick gains control of the narrative. The media immediately switches gears playing up Nick's redemption angle like a flugelhorn played upwards. The truth doesn't matter. All that matters is a good story. The power of the narrative is proven by the film's impact on the viewer. For the first half of the film, the audience is lulled into trusting Amy who is presented as a beautiful, erudite woman from a good family Amy's story has the indicia of truth as it is presented through her diary and therefore has no incentive to lie. When Amy turns out to be not only not dead but a zany, adorkable prankster we realise we have been manipulated by our expectations. The title "Gone Girl" refers to both the disappearance of Amy's physical self and the destruction of her personal identity. Amy spent much of her life trying to live up to others' impossible expectations namely the "Amazing" version of her that her parents created.
The line between Amy's life and the storybook becomes blurred which is just another cruel reminder of Nick's infidelity. Even Nick's marriage proposal is a performance. With Nick serving as the journalist and Amy serving as his editorial on tort reform. Indeed, the men in Amy's life take over her identity just as her parents did before them and her children will long after she's dead.