SEVEN PSYCHOPATHS B-
Great Britain (110 mi)
2012 ‘Scope d: Martin
McDonagh Official site
Of the three films released by the McDonagh brothers, including
Martin’s In
Bruges (2008) and John Michael’s The Guard
(2011), this is easily the weakest of the three, another black comedy that
takes pains with the audience to explain the multiple ideas in conceiving a
story, that becomes more about the process of writing, digressing into multiple
side stories, always feeling experimental and incomplete, never really feeling
much like an actual movie. Part of the
problem is the overly self-conscious nature of the film, a film about the
making of a movie, which stops every so often and shares with the audience
where it wants to go before it goes there, a device that often does not
work. This may work better in a theater
production, where on different nights the actors might actually change the
story and use the same clues to different outcomes. But in a movie, first and foremost there
needs to be sustained suspense, dramatic conflict and tension, which is all but
absent when the story continually stops as the characters examine the choices
to be made, always discussing the possible outcomes before they happen, so when
they do, it’s not much of a surprise. The
technique of exposing the writing as the film is progressing is a difficult undertaking,
often interfering in the overall interest, where some will find this continually
annoying. Perhaps the best example of
this is the highly popular road movie Y TU MAMA TAMBIÉN (2001) by Mexican
director Alfonso Cuarón, an otherwise funny and highly entertaining film that
is constantly interrupted by a narrator who literally stops the film in order
to add some often cheeky narration, a device the interferes with the rhythm and
actually changes the pace of the film. Similarly,
Spike Jonze working on a continually evolving Charlie Kaufman screenplay in ADAPTATION
(2002) is another headspinner, literally a screenplay about a screenwriter
writing a screenplay adaptation of a book.
Some may find this device clever, while others will find it distracting
and overly cute.
In the two earlier works, the writing of the McDonagh
brothers is risqué, marvelously inventive, and among the more hilarious films
seen in the past few years, and this is a wacky and thoroughly enjoyable
adventure as well, where superb acting is always a key to their work. But this film continually gets sidetracked and
bogged down, where the action literally stops as the characters themselves mull
over what happens next. Colin Farrell as
Marty is the boozehound screenwriter living in the gorgeous LA digs with the
beautiful dame, Abbie Cornish as a trophy girlfriend, while best friend Billy
(Sam Rockwell) is continually hovering around him conspiring to change Marty’s
life, especially the alcoholism, where the first change seems to be getting
Marty kicked out of his girlfriend’s house for his outrageous behavior while drunk,
which, of course, he can’t remember. As
he reviews what he’s got so far, writing a new movie script, all he has is a
title, as he hasn’t figured out who the psychopaths are or what they do
yet. Billy throws ideas at him left and
right, telling him stories or offering newspaper clippings, and slowly, the
ideas come, which are visualized onscreen as psychopath #1 and #2, etc. expressed
in vignette fashion until the list is complete.
Meanwhile Billy has a side con game going with Hans (Christopher Walken),
where they steal pet dogs in a busy upscale block where there’s so much
activity it’s easy not to notice the pets are even missing, and then return
them as Good Samaritans for a cash reward. This operation produces steady income until
they steal the wrong guy’s dog, Charlie (Woody Harrelson), a local gangster who
goes on a rampage trying to find him.
Meanwhile several other so-called psychopaths are on the loose, all
allegedly creating mayhem, but they seem to get mixed up in a constantly
evolving world of ideas/fantasy/stories where they continually get lost, only
to be pulled out of a hat later.
Undoubtedly, there is some brilliant dialogue written here,
and some hilarious lines that almost get lost in the weirdness of what’s
happening, where truth and fiction merge as a writer’s ideas are expressed in
fantasy scenes, where underneath it all a script is being developed, and there
are flashback sequences of various stories being told, all mixed together in a
strange brew that doesn’t really hold together the abundance of ideas being
offered. There is a theatricality to the way ideas continually accumulate,
but there is little tension or build up of suspense, so when events eventually
happen, they feel more like random and isolated events rather than something
connected to a whole. The strength of the film is in its characters,
where Rockwell in particular, along with Walken, are as good as they’ve been in
years, where they have a brilliantly developed scene in a bar late in the film
where Marty is telling Hans (with Billy trying to stop him) the story of the
Buddhist/Amish/Quaker psychopath which resonates deeply with Hans, where Tom
Waits has an equally compelling backstory, along with a Viet Cong monk who
thinks the war is not really over. Part of the problem is the director’s
curious strategy to open the film a certain way, meeting the audience’s
expectations, giving them plenty of action scenes, building up the suspense,
but then going into a KILL BILL Pt. 2 (2004) style meditation on everything
that’s come before, slowing everything down into an utter calm where each
character seems to wander off in their own directions. Never feeling much
like a cohesive whole afterwards, instead it’s an obsessive passion on creating
individual vignettes strewn together, like an opening scene, Tom Waits’
flashback, a bravura graveyard sequence, the expendable (mis)treatment of
women, a hooker that learns to speak Vietnamese at Yale, a tape recorded
monologue, a final shoot out (with a gun that jams) set in the desert of a
national park next to a sign reading “no shooting allowed,” where by the end
it’s questionable whether the project actually works or not. Was it
hilarious? Individual moments, Hell yes, but does it make us care or come
together and work collectively like some kind of existentialist take on writing
or living in the modern world, probably not.
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