December 19th, 2008
Seven Pounds
RATING: 
Seven Pounds is a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, cloaked in a really crappy movie.
How best to describe this clunker? Let’s put it this way: Seven Pounds isn’t just bad—it’s historically bad; deserves to be mocked on Mystery Science Theater 3000 bad; “I can’t believe what I just saw” bad. I’ll give my man Will Smith this: He does nothing halfway.
Smith plays Ben Thomas, an extremely bummed out IRS agent. As the film starts, he’s sitting on the edge of a bed in a fleabag motel, calling in a suicide—his own. Then we have flashbacks to happier days when Ben was some sort of aeronautical engineer living in a sweet beachside estate; then fragments of a horrific car crash; then many scenes of Ben being a spectral, stalkerish figure: He harasses a blind telemarketer (Woody Harrelson) to see if he’s a good man; he finds an abused mother of two (Elpidia Carrillo) who needs help getting away from her husband; he shadows a beautiful artist (adorable Rosario Dawson, who deserves better) with a congenital heart defect, and so on. What the heck is happening?
Well, if you’re even remotely good at figuring out plot twists (I’m just okay at it), you’ll put the pieces together about half an hour in—leaving you with 90 of the longest minutes of your life to look forward to. Not only is the film slow moving and humorless, it’s insufferably pretentious. Smith and director Gabriel Muccino (who teamed up for the really good The Pursuit of Happyness) think they’re making something profound and penetrating—art that cleanses the soul. Instead, it’s shallow, didactic, and more than a little ridiculous.
Oh, and I haven’t even mentioned the jellyfish yet. . .
12:21 pm
Categories: film reviews
I knew something was fishy about this movie when I first saw the trailer, which I would say is the worst trailer I've ever seen. I honestly had no idea what the movie was supposed to be about (aside from Will Smith granting wishes to people or helping them out in some way), and it gave no reason to even believe in the mysteriousness of it all. I was amazed that a movie studio would allow a piece of work like that to go out to the public, but this review tells me that it was actually a spot-on trailer and simply showed the movie for what it is: an awful piece of work.
First off, it is important to note that Jellyfish are not fish, thus the poor play on words by Mr. Dave (December 19th) is beyond reproach. Secondly, "Seven Pounds" deserves a little more credit and a better critical eye than that given by Max. Truthfully, her ability to understand the plot, as fictive and imagined as it is, stems from itz closeness with reality. Will Smith offers a profound humanity in this film, not some labyrinthian trek through the surreal where the viewer does not come into realization until the credits begin to role. The sign of a great movie lies in its ability to relate to the people who view it. And if I can speak from a position of candor, I have found those who deem Seven Pounds "distasteful" to be people who have no sense of humanity or selflessness. That would much explain why Max exalts "The Pursuit of Happyness" as it resonates with the American notion of rugged individualism, endurance and success. Life can be tragic - accept it.
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