The preeminent serial killer movie

Rating: 9/10 (2 July 2000)

We plummet the depths of depravity here. Arrogance never got such a cinematic comeuppance (not to mention gluttony, pride, greed and the rest of the seven deadly sins), nor was innocence ever made such an alien as in this masterpiece of monstrous intent. Morgan Freeman stars as William Somerset, a wise and modest big city homicide detective ready to retire who finds himself partnered with David Mills, an arrogant young detective effortlessly depicted by Brad Pitt. As they try to find the killer there develops between them a nice chemistry that helps to make this an engrossing movie. Kevin Spacey arrives after a bit as 'John Doe,' a 20th century version of a medieval scribe obsessed with sin morphed into a monster from hell. He sees himself as the personal judge, executioner and torturer extraordinaire of a vengeful god gone amuck.
Momma, lock the doors and bar the windows. Don't let this video into your home. You'll watch it, every last minute, and your kids will watch it, several times, their eyes between their fingers, and the end result will be a cynicism about humanity so deep that it'll take the blood of the lamb to wash it clean.
Well, that, or the realization that this is just Hollywood up to its old tricks. After all it's only a movie-or is there something more to this extraordinary commercialization of evil? One of the penetrating things about Seven is the implication that, through the Christian concept of sin and by our very nature, we ourselves create the serial killer and give him a justification to turn upon us and do his wretched deeds. The ending slyly suggests the triumph of evil; and indeed this cagey movie would be depressing beyond redemption were it not for the three things: One, the modest wisdom projected by Morgan Freeman; two, the essential innocence of Brad Pitt's character; and three, the fact that the horrible deeds are the work of only one man. Whether he is just an insane 'nut-bag' as Pitt's character exclaims, or part of our nature as the film implies, is an interesting question.
Serial killer film makers of the future will try to top this one, but I doubt if it will happen any time soon. This is already a classic. Incidentally, I do wonder about these guys (Walker and Fincher) who lie awake nights dreaming up this stuff. I hope they're only doing it for the money.
By the way, perfect font for the credits.
(Note: Over 500 of my movie reviews are now available in my book "Cut to the Chaise Lounge or I Can't Believe I Swallowed the Remote!" Get it at Amazon!)