By Jim Rohner · October 15, 2012
Seven Psychopaths is a film that wants to have its cake and eat it too. Granted, with a cast that includes the eclectic mix of Sam Rockwell, Christopher Walken, Woody Harrelson, and Colin Farrell having their words and actions dictated at every turn by English playwright Martin McDonagh, the manner in which that cake will be eaten is sure to be darkly comic, hilariously inappropriate and meandering in the most delightful way. Make no mistake though; McDonagh's sophomore feature after In Bruges is curiously uneven, albeit one of the most entertaining mishmashes of the year.
The film follows alcoholic screenwriter Marty (Colin Farrell), whose screenplay Seven Psychopaths exists in title only. And, of course, it will ultimately and allegedly revolve around—what else?—seven psychotic individuals. If Marty wrote as much as he drank, he'd be as prolific as Woody Allen. Marty spends his days, due to his affinity for blacking out after saying things he doesn't mean, dealing with the ire of his girlfriend, Kaya (Abbie Cornish). This is garnished with the smart mouthing of his best friend, Billy (Sam Rockwell), an “actor” whose primary source of income involves kidnapping dogs from around the La Brea Tar Pits and sending his friend Hans (Christopher Walken) back to the owners with the pets days later to collect the reward money. Based on this, Marty makes the first real headway in his screenplay: the idea for Psychopath No. 1—the Jack of Diamonds Killer, a real-life serial killer who only targets high ranking members of the Mafia.
Though unconnected to the K9 kidnappings in any way, Marty gets dragged into the middle of it all when Billy bags the dog of notorious “real-life” psychopath Charlie (Woody Harrelson). On the run, the 3 friends have to devise a way of how they're going to get themselves out of trouble with Charlie. Marty begins to realize that the biggest inspiration for his latest screenplay may be the psychopaths right in front of him.
I hesitate to say more about the plot of Seven Psychopaths as many of the hilarious and dramatic elements that cause the screenplay to twist and turn are best experienced while knowing as little as possible and despite what may come across in the marketing, Seven Psychopaths is not as straightforward a narrative and emotional experience as you'd think.
In fact, keeping in fashion with the subjects it explores, Seven Psychopaths is a schizophrenic experience, fluctuating back and forth between sly commentary against Hollywood conventions and a sincere attempt at upholding those conventions. It vacillates between darkly serious and absurdly funny; between the on paper narrative and Marty's film within a film. This bi-polar nature balance out the surprising moments of emotional depth with sheer insanity (a moment between Walken and his wife after she encounters Charlie stands out particularly strongly). These pendulum swings ensure that we as an audience get involved enough in the characters' lives to care, while also offsetting some of the darker and more twisted moments with some much needed levity.
On the other hand, this flip flopping back and forth muddles any attempts made at a coherent, tangible theme or resonance. The seven titular psychopaths are not actually all those found on the film's promotional posters—one of them, in fact, has only a few minutes to breathe before being quickly dispatched. Instead they are a confusing blend of real-life characters whom Marty encounters and fictional(ized) versions of others. Some of these psychopaths go a long way in helping Marty develop as a character, whereas others seem to only serve his nebulous screenplay which never really seems to be too important in regard to its completion. The natural inclination would be to say that the purpose of Marty's screenplay in this film is to serve simply as a MacGuffin. But if that were the case, why is so much time devoted to the exploration of Psychopath No. 5—Zachariah (Tom Waits), the Clyde-Barrow-half of a duo of serial killers who adds nothing to the film's ultimate outcome?
In a way, the film's tendency to meander, to spend just as much time in bizarre conversations and nonsensical musings as it does on plot development, is a great little comment on how Hollywood films treat psychoses and mental disorders. How often do we see Hollywood films treat so-called "psychopaths" and their afflictions as sanitized inconveniences easily overcome for the sake of saccharine wisdom? The psychopaths in McDonagh's screenplay are true crazies—cracking jokes about the most sensitive of topics, completely unconcerned with their own wellbeing, and showing neither remorse nor intent to change when confronted about their behavior.
McDonagh makes no apologies for taking time to toy with our expectations, yet it is curious that he also still ultimately crafts a film that in many ways adheres to the expectations of the kind of Hollywood screenplay he seems to be poking fun at.