Not classic enough, but at the threshold

Maria 2022-03-18 09:01:03


"Seven Neuropathies" may not be regarded as a classic movie, and the director's control of the turn of the story is not as good as those of those famous in film history, so that impatient audiences will mistakenly think that it is a disorderly mix of various styles. . In a sense, this is true, Billy is easily reminiscent of gunpowder action movies, while Matt is the representative of the moderate middle class, and the Quakers are a reminder of the spirituality of religion in Western culture. Putting these three together to discuss love and peace in the mouths of hippies would be out of line. But "Seven Neuropathies" doesn't have the cheesiness of Hollywood or the contempt for mainstream culture that rebel culture does. The ubiquitous black humour conjures up Two Smoking Barrels, and the Hollywood sarcasm conjures up the old Woody Allen thing, but this movie belongs to neither. The answer to the film is contained in the conversation between Billy and Matt, maybe only a lunatic can save a middle-class old man who bursts into a violent world, and only a religious can let go of the fear of death and not be driven by fear to kill, maybe the most important thing is not how Survive the violence, but how not to be drawn into the chain of violence. MacDonald is still young, and "Seven Neuropathies" can be seen as his transformation from a single style, albeit not at the best level, but he still has a chance.

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Extended Reading

Seven Psychopaths quotes

  • Billy: Is that a guinea pig? It's a gerbil, isn't it? That's enormous. Hey, Marty, we just seen some kind of giant gerbil.

    [Marty punches Billy]

    Billy: Marty, you alcoholic fucking bastard.

    Hans: Yeah, you might wanna stop drinking, Martin, if this is the way you're gonna behave.

    Marty: If this is the way I'm gonna... This guy just telephoned a psycho-killer to come down and psycho-kill us. And this guy's doubting a lifelong belief in the afterlife because of a psychedelic cactus he just ate. And you motherfuckers are telling me to behave?

    Billy: Whoa. Whoa. Time out. What's all this about doubting a lifelong belief in the afterlife because of a psychedelic cactus you just ate? Hans, what the heck?

    Hans: I met Myra. On the ridge. She had some things to say.

    Billy: About the afterlife being non-existent or something?

    Hans: That was the gist.

    Billy: No, no, it might have sounded like Myra. But you know why? Now don't get mad, but you know I can do Myra's voice pretty good. Yeah, I snuck up there a little while ago and I pretended to be her. I started saying all kinds of crazy stuff.

    Hans: Hmm? But what specifically did you say? About the place you were in? The place Myra was in. Huh? How did you describe it, specifically?

    Billy: You mean specifically?

    Hans: Yeah.

    Billy: I just kind of said it was all kind of... I just kind of said it was all kind of gray and shit.

    Hans: No.

  • Hans: My wife is sitting on a chair someplace. Some gray place. I thought she'd be in Heaven, but she's sitting on a chair with a bullet in her head. I thought they'd have cleaned that kind of stuff up.

    Marty: Maybe you've just eaten too many hallucinogenic cactuses tonight, Hans.

    Hans: Nothing to do with the hallucinogens.

    Marty: But you've just seen Myra on a chair with a bullet through her head.

    Hans: In some gray place.

    Marty: England?

    Hans: It seemed a lot worse than that.

    Marty: Wow.