Multiple times
when I was reading the otherwise superb magazine Entertainment Weekly, they
referred to the classic The Silence of The Lambs as ‘the only horror
movie to win the Academy Award for Best Picture.”
To be fair, I
can understand why certain film scholars might think in those terms. Yes
Hannibal Lecter is one of the great monsters in history. I am reminded that
Roger Ebert once referred to a vampire as ‘basically a cannibal with table
manners’ which perfectly sums up Hannibal Lecter. And there are certainly
elements of the film that have that appearance, particularly Clarice Starling’s
descent to his Lecter’s cell and the tension that fills everyone of their
initial confrontations. But while Silence of The Lambs is a brilliant
suspense film and clearly a thriller, that does not necessarily mean it is a
horror film. Alfred Hitchcock was very
good at walking the fine line between the genres throughout his career but only
some of this films are clearly on the other side of it: Psycho and The
Birds yes, Lifeboat and Vertigo, no.
I think far
fewer people will dispute me when I think that the extraordinary Seven, David
Fincher’s official coming out party in the world of movies, far more deserves
to be considered a horror film than Silence of The Lambs does. I think
that is why when Roger Ebert listed the film in what would be his final book of
Great Movies he admitted it was a masterpiece but couldn’t understand all the
reasons why. I think it’s because he was looking it under the trope of the
mystery when its far more clearly to that of horror. Indeed, the film received
several nominations from organization that give prizes for Horror, including
the Saturn Award (though it was nominated as an action film)
Consider the
fact that we never know where the film takes place. The city is never identified, all we know is
that always dark, usually raining and looms over all the major characters. It’s
actually shocking that the climax of the film takes place in the middle of what
essentially a landscape: we didn’t think there was a deserted area in this
city. None of the characters in the
dialogue give a hint as to where we are, even so far as to say the state. One is reminded of Dark City which
came out just a few years later (another film Ebert considered a masterpiece as
much for the setting as the plot). At one point in that film, we learn there is
nothing beyond the city and it seems just as much the same in Seven.
I have little doubt
Ebert was inclined to think that the film was a mystery: this is the kind of setting
that we fundamentally consider as film noir (Dark City seemed to exist
on a planet that was modeled after those kind of films). But in a sense that is
just as keeping with so many horror films that had come before. Most of the slasher
films that had come before the setting itself was irrelevant: we didn’t know
where Elm Street was or what town Crystal Lake was close too; all we know was
that there was a madman on the loose, and if you momentarily led your guard
down, he would strike and kill you horribly.
Indeed, the
methods of the killing throughout Seven are far more keeping in line
with the traditional horror film (though to be fair, the serial killer genre that
was about to become part of the TV landscape would have fine with the killings
here). From the moment that Mills and Somerset begin their investigation, it is
clear that the killings are being done by a fanatic who is obsessed with the seven
deadly sins. The way that he commits his murders are actually more keeping with
the fundamental killings of horror, if you think about it.
He leaves his work
on display; he clearly is proud of his work. Oddly, while many horror films
focus on gore, Fincher rarely lets us see the whole nature of the awfulness of the
crimes. Much more is done by implication:
the medical examiner telling us a victim died by eating himself to death, the
way we see a pound of flesh weighing on a scale, a sharp weapon that makes it
very clear what it was used for. Perhaps more interesting is the fact that in
the five murders that we see the killer has committed, in none of them did he
actually orchestrate the act that led to the victim’s death; in the case of sloth,
he’s actually left the victim alive but in a place that is a far worse fate. I have
never seen any of the movies in the Saw franchise, but I am reminded of the
scenarios in the trailers that we here Tobin Bell related to the victims he has
left behind to essentially face the worst fate imaginable. (There’s another
commonality which I’ll get to later on.)
This brings me
to the next point. Almost no one in the film is given a name. I don’t just mean the victims, many of whom
are identified in the credits only by the sin that the killer has used; I mean
almost everybody else. Looking through the end credits of the film, the only
characters who are identified by name specifically are Brad Pitt’s David Mills,
Gwynneth Paltrow’s Tracy and Morgan Freeman’s Somerset (we never even learn
Somerset’s name in the film, making him more anonymous) Almost everyone else in
the credit is identified by their job: Police Captain, DA, Defense attorney, medical
examiner. John C. McGinley’s operation officer is called California, but that’s
a nickname and we never know how he got it.. Some of them are identified in the
dialogue but they don’t seem to matter much. Fincher fundamentally relies on
the actors themselves to express more with their personalities and when you have
so many great character actors in your film such as R. Lee Ermey, Richard
Roundtree, Reg E. Cathey and smaller roles played by Richard Schiff, Leland
Orser and Michael Massee, you don’t need to know anything more.
David Fincher
would later go on to make several masterpieces in the mystery genre, among them
Zodiac, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo and Gone Girl but at the
end of the day I think in mood and style is far closer to his follow-up film,
the vastly underrated The Game. All
of the movies are as much about atmosphere as plot but both The Game and
Se7en fundamentally make you feel like the ground is always being pulled
out from under your feet.
There were
many who laid the surprising box office success of the film (it grossed over
$100 million domestic and nearly $330 million worldwide) almost on the appeal
of Brad Pitt, who was just in the start of becoming the sexiest man in
Hollywood. There is also a general
consensus that this isn’t one of Pitt’s better performances, which few would
argue. That said Pitt was not yet the brilliant actor he would become in the
next several years (he would receive his first Oscar nomination for 12 Monkeys
the same year Se7en came out, which did show signs of his potential)
and having watched him over the last thirty years I am fundamentally inclined
to think that directors like Quentin Tarantino and Andrew Dominik were far
better at getting the best possible performances out of Pitt than Fincher has
been.
What Pitt does
perfectly is play the notes of the wide-eyed rookie who clashes with authority
and every turn. When Mills and Somerset are clashing throughout every aspect of
the movie, Se7en has much of its best energy. And in a sense it is a
necessity to have a character like David Mills in this movie with Pitt’s
enthusiasm: he spends almost the entire film chafing at how beaten down
everybody in the movie seems to be by the city and is determined not to let it.
He needs to be that way for the final half-hour to work.
More remarkable,
frankly, is Gwynneth Paltrow as Tracy. Paltrow was only twenty two when Se7en
was being made and as you might recall, romantically connected with Pitt.
She had previously appeared in small roles mostly in films where no one noticed
her or art films that nobody watched. This was her first major role of
significance and it’s astonishing how completely she nails it.
Tracy should
be the ultimate thankless role – she’s the wife of one of the detectives and
they are almost always window dressing in any movie. She is also fundamentally
helpless and meek, which is not a characteristic you tend to associate with
most female characters in Fincher’s films, certainly not the characters Helena
Bonham Carter, Rooney Mara and Rosamund Pike have played. Tracy is that rarest
of things: she is a supportive presence who is being beaten down by the city
very quickly. Tracy has to seem this way
in her few scenes for the impact of the ending to hit us the way it does and
Paltrow’s nails it perfectly. After this she began to get cast in the kind of
roles she was entitled too, though she has never received the respect as either
an actress or the individual she is.
The movie, of
course, rises and sets on Morgan Freeman as Somerset. Roger Ebert once said he’d
never seen Freeman give a bad performance and I do believes that’s true.
Freeman has always had gravitas and just an often capable of playing world-weariness.
He rarely has gotten a chance to use them to better effect than he did in Se7en.
Somerset should be the character who
reminds us of Murtagh in Lethal Weapon – when the movie begins he is a
week away from retiring and he doesn’t like his young partner. But Freeman isn’t retiring to be with his
family; he’s retiring because the job has beaten him. There’s a vivid
description early in the film he gives to the captain about why he wants to
quit and it’s the kind of thing that clearly is running through every aspect of
his performance. He knows from the start
what kind of killer he’s up against and he knows just how to catch him.
As the case
progresses, however, we witness something about Somerset. There is a part of
him that is truly fascinating by what the killer is doing. He spends a lot of
time going through the research, trying to figure out the next step. Near the end of the movie, he is telling Mills
that even though it’s his last day he’ll stay on until this case is resolved.
An earlier scene has made it likely that they will never catch the killer. What does that say about Somerset? That he
wants to catch this man and bring him to justice or that he will not be able to
rest until he truly understands this killer.
A side note.
Before I first saw the movie I saw a literary adaptation of the film in my
library and read it. It was far superior
to most novel adaptations of screenplays as it tried to fill in blanks that
might not have been in the film. There’s a scene in the book. The detectives have
found the killer’s apartment and the journals he’s been keeping. We see Somerset read them in the movie but
says they’re hopeless in figuring out who the killer is. In the book, Somerset
can’t sleep that night and is considering getting a book out. He admits to
himself that the only thing he really wants to read is the killer’s journals.
The prose in the journals is very close to Somerset’s opinions of the city and
mankind.
Consider the scene
when Somerset and Mills are driving the killer in the leadup to the climax.
Mills treats him with disdain and contempt. Somerset treats him with respect
that seems far more than trying to understand what the man he’s been chasing
does. Does Somerset see something of the mindset of the killer in himself? Is
that the real reason he’s been chasing him?
I should note
right now that in both his original review of the film and the Great Books
review, Roger Ebert does not say the actor who plays the killer. Since it’s
been nearly thirty years I don’t think I’m spoiling anything to say that it’s
Kevin Spacey. Frankly, if you’d followed the awards cycle in 1995 it would have
been hard to avoid that fact. Spacey would receive the Best Supporting Actor Prize
from both the New York Film Critics and the National Board of Review, and
because critics group will honor actor for a group of performances in the
course of the same year, he won for both Se7en and The Usual
Suspects. He would also tie for the Critics Choice Award for Best
Supporting Actor with Ed Harris and receive the prize for Best Villain from the
MTV Movie Awards which also named it the Best Movie.
In retrospect
it’s kind of remarkable what John Doe and Verbal Kent have in common. Both are
criminal masterminds capable of hiding their secrets of everyone around them,
both are capable of hiding in plain sight, both are capable of completely
manipulating law enforcement under their noses and both completely get away
with their crimes. And while John Doe is clearly more insane that Verbal, both
men are soft spoken in their scenes. The only time John slightly raises his
voice is when Mills questions whether the people he killed are actually
innocent and when he mocks Mills about his ability to catch him. Otherwise Doe
is completely calm through the final scene.
This is
another reason why John Doe is clearly similar to many of the ones in slasher
films: Jason and Michael Myers never said a word when they killed their victims.
It also explains why Roger Ebert could not understand why John was doing what
he was doing. He understood that John thought he was making a statement but
couldn’t understand the nature of it. (I
don’t think he had it in him to understand the idea of the copycat murder even
though versions of it were common in procedurals even then.) Now consider how
each sequel to the Scream film unfolds with each new killer taking on
the methods of the idea of Ghostface. Or how so many movies in the Saw franchise
involve acolytes of the original Jigsaw.
I’m also
reminded of the Joker in John Doe’s work, more so the most famous film versions
than the ones in the comic book. Heath Ledger’s, like John Doe, has no identity
beyond the clothes on his back; Doe has made sure he has no fingerprints. The
Joker claims to be an agent of chaos but he clearly has a master plan. Remember Joaquin Phoenix’s versions whose
actions in the movie inspired a series of clown-faced acolytes around Gotham in
the climax. I can see both version being inspired by the action of John Doe.
Now comes the
ending which I will never be able to find a flaw in. There is the fact that
Morgan Freeman, from the moment he sees what’s in the box that’s been delivered
is terrified as he says: “John Doe has the upper hand.” Freeman’s performance
is pure desperation. He has to talk down Mills from killing Doe even though he
is trying to invoke intellect and logic over pure emotion. His tone from the
moment he arrives is that of someone who knows he will fail. Spacey is
completely calm in the scene that follows never raising his voice, never
showing off. He knows he doesn’t even have to show the box to Mills. He knows
he’s won. He closes his eyes in the final moments with a beatific smile on his
face.
And yes I know
that Pitt’s final moments have been mocked on the internet and pop culture. But
I don’t think anyone can argue about what happens after his outburst. He calmly
walks up to Doe, shoots him in the head and then empties his gun. Our last shot
of him shows him, staring blankly ahead. It’s never spelled out directly but it
seems obvious that Mills hasn’t said a word since he shot Somerset and there is
an excellent chance his mind has snapped. The way the captain says: ‘We’ll take
care of him” clearly means more than making sure that his career or even prison
is the least of their concerns for Mills.
The ending of Se7en
has been hotly debated ever since it came out. At the time of its release
Ebert withheld giving it a four-star review because he thought the perfect
ending would have been to make one detective kill the other. An original draft
had Somerset killing Doe so Mills wouldn’t have too. The original ending had
the screen going to black after Mills shot the killer. The final scene was shot
with Somerset just saying: “I’ll be around” and the voiceover was added by the
studio because they just thought it was too bleak.
At the end of
the day I think the voiceover was needed because Se7en is fundamentally
a horror film and not a mystery. When
you’ve gone through all the horrors that we’ve seen in this movie, when the
monster has finally surrendered but you learn that the killer has one last
trick up his sleeve, when the killer manages to complete his masterpiece in
full view of the heroes, the viewer needs something to hang on to, some form of
light. The implication in both the last line and the voiceover is that Somerset
has regained his determination to keep fighting, even against a world as evil
as the one we’ve just lived through. It’s not much, but in the darkness in the
final shot, it’s the one sliver of light we can hold on to.
In recent
decades, some of the best horror films have been willing to commit to the
bleakness of the vision most famously in movies like Hereditary and Us. I can see their virtues but we also need
films like Se7en which tells us that no matter how much carnage they
have witnessed, someone will keep fighting against it. The bad guys won in this
film, but the one good guy left standing will keep trying.
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