MAX PATERSON
<Arts & Culture Editor>
As TIFF progresses and the stars drift in and out of the Toronto social scene, it was hard for the Obiter to ignore a chance to rub knuckles with Hollywood’s finest. We were fortunate enough to be invited to the premiere of Seven Psychopaths, the new feature by writer/director Martin McDonagh (In Bruges, Six Shooter). Although, it was amusing to hobnob with the likes of Colin Farrell, Sam Rockwell, Christopher Walken, and Woody Harrelson (who ended up hitting on my date while I was getting a drink) the real entertainment was watching publicists fly around the room sprinkling false pleasantries on all in their wake.
As for the movie, Seven Pychopaths seemed to resemble a Seagal flick more than a Scorsese. There was lots of unnecessary vulgar language (the last quarter of the movie was inexcusably and unnecessarily riddled with homophobic slurs), gaudy gore scenes (a lot of throat cutting), and the dialogue seemed to border on useless extravagance. The movie was best summed up by my companion who said “it was like this movie was made by a 14 year old boy, it’s got lots of blood, swears, and explosions, and every female shows her boobs and then dies.”
I’d recommend at best renting this movie, because at least if you don’t like it you will have the option of turning it off and watching curling. Despite the blown-out nature of this film, the structure of it is actually something to applaud. To its benefit, the use of cut scenes and stories within stories is quite captivating and entertaining. However, it is always followed by disappointment when you cut back to the regular story line.
Overall, see this movie if you want, but don’t blame me if you don’t like it. If the argument above does not help you make a decision then I will leave you with a final thought: there were several dogs in the movie and only one was cute.