Anarchy
Unleashed: Se7en
I
just don’t think I can continue to live in a place that embraces and nurtures
apathy as if it was a virtue.
–
Detective Somerset
Se7en
begins
as inconspicuously as any of the other countless police procedurals. A
harrowing crime brings the retiring veteran detective, Somerset, back for one
last job. And invariably, his partner on this last case will be the hot
up-and-comer detective, Mills, striving to make a name for himself. Mills is naïve
and volatile, believing without a doubt that he will change the world. Somerset
is wizened but exacting, a man who’s clearly seen enough in his career to
warrant an early retirement.
We are introduced to essential archetypal characters
– people we can easily identify and understand. But the mere establishment of
these characters – no matter how recognizable – is insufficient for a film of
this magnitude. Indeed, these characters must operate within a set world, an
environment with rules and laws and more importantly, established consequences.
In other words, these players must operate within a conceivably recognizable society.
It’s interesting to note here that the city in which
the story takes place is never named. By doing so, we are left to perceive the
city as any random American metropolitan. So when these gruesome murders begin,
we as the audience are encouraged to project the actions of the film against our own
perception of society. In turn, we begin to project ourselves
– including our own fears and doubts – into the film.
Se7en
kicks into gear when seemingly random murders begin to devolve into
nothing short of a morality play. A killer is committing heinous acts of
violence which correlate directly with the seven deadly sins. Seen through the
eyes of the detectives, we as the audience are led to sympathize with the horror
of these murders. And yet as we gain a further understanding of the methods –
and victims – behind each murder, we can’t help but feel a sense of awe, even
admiration. Surely, no one’s excusing these acts; and yet, we can’t help but
feel a justification in these murders, a twinge of exhilaration in the impending
conclusion. We want to know how the story ends. In a sense, we want Doe to
succeed.
So it’s no surprise that by the end of the film, we
as the audience almost buy into John Doe’s rationale: apathy breeds anarchy. Nowadays,
people only mind their own business. Whatever happened to genuine connections? So when sins are committed in our everyday lives
– and when those witness to it do nothing – what does that say about the
current state of our society?
If we follow Doe’s rationale to its logical end, we
could conclude that his acts of murder are nothing more than pleas for
help, for recognition. He sees himself as a savior, the hero who will do the
unthinkable to help others recognize their own faults. Clearly, this is the conflict
at the core of Se7en – the lengths to
which one man will go in order to fulfill his beliefs and more importantly, how
this man’s perception of his actions clash with society’s acceptance. Let’s not
forget, John Doe is by all means, an anarchist to society. He doesn’t obey any
laws. He commits ruthless acts of violence. And yet, we as the audience not
only hear his rationale, but may even see him in an empathetic light. And perhaps
that’s the whole point because the real kicker is this: by all
measures, Doe succeeds in his grand plan. He completes his killing spree.
Well, it’s important to note that Somerset emerges
from this ordeal a changed man. Where he was once fed up with this city and its
indifference, he now understands – maybe even embraces – the need to fight for
your cause. He’s become witness to the power of envy, the power of empathy. I don’t
believe it’s a coincidence that for generalization’s sake, envy may be seen as
a variation of empathy. After all, to be envious of another is to want
something that’s not yours, to connect with someone who you can’t. In essence,
you must have the capacity to empathize with another human being’s situation in
order to understand envy. In this respect, Doe is breaking his own
rules. By shedding his own apathy and in turn, consuming himself with all the
imperfections of society, Doe begins to empathize with the human condition. He begins
to notice the weakness in people. He begins to care. And he begins to sin.
This idea of sin in the film is presented as
pervasive. We are led to believe the entire city is full of sinners. Indeed, we
can’t watch the film without acknowledging that even our so-called “heroes,”
Mills and Somerset, commit illegal acts along their journey to capture Doe. In
hindsight, Mills is clearly set up as the final wrath victim throughout the
story. But more interestingly, Somerset presents a more ambivalent lens. On one
hand, Somerset readily acknowledges the power of apathy in the city, a current
state of life that he has essentially given up on. He laments, it’s easier to
turn away than to fight, easier to beat a child than to raise one. In effect,
he paraphrases – and even, understands – the very reason why Doe would do the things he's doing. Yet on the other hand, Somerset refuses to give in to Doe’s game. He
still holds himself to a higher standard. And when Somerset learns of Doe’s
final act in the climax, he pleads with Mills to do the right thing not because he
has to, but because he needs to believe that Mills can overcome his own sins.
This exploration of sin brings up another
interesting thread that runs through most of Fincher’s works – the
representation of the female sex. In Se7en,
Tracy Mills is undoubtedly shown to a minimal extent. Arguably, she is only
present as a plot device. She is first used at the dinner party as a venue for
Somerset, and us as the audience by proxy, to gain a better understanding of
Mills. Later, she confides in Somerset that she’s pregnant. This serves as both
an opportunity to humanize Somerset and simultaneously, to set up the climax.
So it’s not unreasonable to see Tracy as little more than an expendable tool, a
device only used for the betterment of the male characters.
But I believe that Tracy represents more than just
the catalyst that draws the story to a close. She represents innocence, pure
and unspoiled. Never do we see her commit an act of questionable merit. Never
do we see her commit a sin. She represents the idealization of domesticity, of
safety, of sympathy. Alas, it’s only fitting that the end of Tracy’s story is
nothing short of shocking. But with the thematic thread of apathy – and the
consequences of such carelessness – already established throughout the story,
it should come as no surprise that the only character in the film who dares to
show a glimmer of love is the one who gets decapitated.
I can’t help but watch this film without agreeing
with its poignant, albeit bleak, sentiment. Sure, it’s all a bit cynical.
And I agree, murdering people probably isn’t the best way to get your social
agenda across. But like Doe’s extravagant endeavors, I see Se7en as the sledgehammer to society’s face. People need provocative measures to snap out of apathy. Don’t stay in the comfortable and the established. Dare to break the rules.
Push the envelope. Anarchy is destruction. But destruction also breeds
creation. And the creation
of something new, by definition, should violate the authority of the present and
the tyranny of tradition.
