Seven (Fincher, 1995): Ritzy Cinema, Brixton, 8pm
This 35mm presentation is part of the 'Brad Reputation' season at Picturehouse Cinemas across London. You can find all the details here.
Chicago Reader review:
Who would have guessed that a grisly and upsetting serial-killer police
procedural (1995) costarring Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman as detectives,
written by a Tower Records cashier (Andrew Kevin Walker), and directed
by David Fincher (Alien) would bear a startling
resemblance to a serious work of art? One can already tell that this
film is on to something special during the opening credits, which
formally echo several classic American experimental films and
thematically point to the eerie kinship between the serial killer and
the police—not to mention the kinship between murder and art making that
the movie is equally concerned with. The detectives are trying to solve
a series of hideous murders based on the seven deadly sins, and the
sheer foulness and decay of the nameless city that surrounds them, which
makes those of Taxi Driver and Blade Runner seem almost
like children's theme parks, conjures up a metaphysical mood that isn't
broken even when the film moves to the countryside for its climax.
Admittedly, designer unpleasantness is a hallmark of our era, and this
movie may be more concerned with wallowing in it than with illuminating
what it means politically. Yet the filmmakers stick to their vision with
such dedication and persistence that something indelible comes
across—something ethically and artistically superior to The Silence of the Lambs
that refuses to exploit suffering for fun or entertainment and leaves
you wondering about the world we're living in. With Gwyneth Paltrow,
Richard Roundtree, John C. McGinley, R. Lee Ermey, and Kevin Spacey.
Jonathan Rosenbaum
Here (and above) are the superb opening credits.
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