Seven

Seven

Seven (sometimes stylized as Se7en) is a 1995 film about two cops, one new and one about to retire, who are chasing a serial killer who is using the Seven deadly sins as inspiration for his murders.

Genre: Mystery
Year:
1995
219 Views
Seven deadly sins. Seven ways to die.
Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell leads up to light.
Gluttony · Greed · Sloth · Envy · Wrath · Pride · Lust
Let he who is without sin try to survive
Ernest Hemingway once wrote, "The world is a fine place and worth fighting for." I agree with the second part.

Somerset:
Victor's landlord said there was an envelope of cash in the office mailbox the first of every month. Quote: "I never heard a single complaint from the tenant in apartment 306, and nobody ever complained about him. He's the best tenant I've ever had." End quote.

Mills:
Yeah, a landlord's dream: a paralyzed tenant with no tongue.

Somerset:
Who pays the rent on time.

Mills:
I'm sick of all this waiting!

Somerset:
This is the job.

Mills:
Why aren't we out there, huh? Why we gotta sit here, rotting, waiting until the lunatic does it again?

Somerset:
It's dismissive to call him a lunatic. Don't make that mistake.

Mills:
Come on, he's insane. Look, right now he's probably dancing around in his grandmother's panties, yeah, rubbing himself in peanut butter. Ooh. How's that?

Somerset:
I don't think so.

Mills:
His luck will run out.

Somerset:
He's not depending on luck. We walked into that apartment exactly one year after he tied Victor to the bed. One year to the date. He wanted us to.

Mills:
Don't know that for sure.

Somerset:
Oh yes, we do. This note he left, his first words to us: "Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell leads up to light."

Mills:
F*** him. So what?

Somerset:
He's right so far. Imagine the will it takes to keep a man bound for a full year, to sever his hand and use it to plant fingerprints, to insert tubes into his genitals. This guy's methodical, exacting, and worst of all, patient.

Mills:
He's a nut-bag! Just because the f***er's got a library card doesn't make him Yoda.

Somerset:
You know, this isn't gonna have a happy ending.

Mills:
Hey man, if we catch him, I'll be happy enough.

Somerset:
If we catch John Doe and he turns out to be the Devil – I mean, if he's Satan himself – that might live up to our expectations. But … he's not the Devil. He's just a man.

Mills:
You know, see, you b*tch and you complain and you tell me these things – if you think you're preparing me for hard times, thank you, but …

Somerset:
But you got to be a hero? You want to be a champion. Well, let me tell you, people don't want a champion. They wanna eat cheeseburgers, play the lotto and watch television.

Mills:
Hey, how did you get like this? I wanna know.

Somerset:
Well. [sighs] It wasn't one thing, I can tell you that.

Mills:
Go on.

Somerset:
I just don't think I can continue to live in a place that embraces and nurtures apathy as if it was a virtue!

Mills:
You're no different. You're no better.

Somerset:
I didn't say I was different or better. I'm not! Hell, I sympathize; I sympathize completely. Apathy is a solution. I mean, it's easier to lose yourself in drugs than it is to cope with life. It's easier to steal what you want than it is to earn it. It's easier to beat a child than it is to raise it. Hell, love costs: it takes effort and work.

Mills:
We are talking about people who are mentally ill. We are talking about people who are f***ing crazies.

Somerset:
No. No, we're not. We're talking about everyday life here. You – you can't afford to be this naive!

Mills:
F*** off. See, you should listen to yourself. Yeah. You say that the problem with people is that they don't care, so I don't care about people. It makes no sense. You know why?

Somerset:
You care?

Mills:
Damn right.

Somerset:
And you gonna make a difference?

Mills:
Whatever. The point is that I don't think you're quitting because you believe these things you say. I don't. I think you wanna believe them because you're quitting. You want me to agree with you, and you want me to say, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're right. It's all f***ed up. It's a f***ing mess. We should all go live in a f***ing log cabin." But I won't. I won't say that. I don't agree with you. I do not. I can't.

Doe:
Nothing wrong with a man taking pleasure in his work. I won't deny my own desire to see each sin turned against the sinner.

Mills:
Wait, I thought all you did was murder innocent people...

Doe:
[outraged] Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny? [his voice rising in anger] An obese man, a disgusting man who could barely stand up, a man who if you saw him on the street, you'd point him out to your friends so that they could join you in mocking him, a man, who if you saw him while you were eating, you wouldn't be able to finish your meal. After him, I picked the lawyer, and I know you both must have been secretly thanking me for that one. This is a man who dedicated his life to making money by lying with every breath that he could muster to keeping murderers and rapists on the streets!

Mills:
Murderers?

Doe:
A woman …

Mills:
Murderers, John, like yourself?

Doe:
A woman, so ugly on the inside she couldn't bear to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A drug dealer, a drug-dealing pederast, actually! And let's not forget the disease-spreading whore! Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. But that's the point: we see a deadly sin on every street corner, in every home, and we tolerate it. We tolerate it because it's common, it's trivial. We tolerate it morning, noon, and night. Well, not anymore. I'm setting the example. What I've done is going to be puzzled over and studied and followed … forever.

Mills:
Uh... yeah. [to Somerset] Delusions of grandeur.

John Doe:
You should be thanking me.

Mills:
Why is that, John?

Doe:
Because you're going to be remembered after this. Realize, detective, the only reason that I'm here right now is that I wanted to be.

Mills:
No. No, we would have got you eventually.

Doe:
Oh, really? So, what were you doing? Biding your time? Toying with me? Allowing five "innocent" people to die until you felt like springing your trap? Tell me, what was the indisputable evidence you were going to use on me right before I walked up to you and put my hands in the air?!

Mills:
John. Calm down. I seem to remember us knocking on your door.

Doe:
Oh, that's right. And I seem to remember breaking your face. [leans forward] You're only alive because I didn't kill you.

Mills:
Okay, sit back.

Doe:
I spared you.

Mills:
Sit back!

Doe:
Remember that, detective, every time you look in the mirror at that face of yours for the rest of your life, or should I say, for the rest of what life I've allowed you to have.

Mills:
Sit back! Sit back, you f***ing freak! Shut your f***ing mouth! You're no messiah. You're a movie of the week. You're a f***ing T-shirt, at best.

John Doe:
Don't ask me to pity those people. I don't mourn them any more than I do the thousands that died at Sodom and Gomorrah.

Somerset:
Is that to say, John, that what you were doing was God's good work?

Doe:
The Lord works in mysterious ways.


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