Se7en | The Horror You Don't See

|Spoilers for Se7en (1995)|

"Sanitised violence in movies has been accepted for years. What seems to upset everybody now is the showing of the consequences of violence."

~ Stanley Kubrick

I. "Get this thing off of me"

For a film so well known for its horrific imagery and gore, it's surprising that perhaps Se7en’s most shocking moments, and in one case its most iconic, are those in which nothing of the sort is shown at all. Cinema has a rich history of hidden violence. Some of its greatest moments are those in which the audience is asked to imagine the horror that is hidden from them, either by camera or by cut. An audience’s imagination is the deadliest tool at an artist's disposal, and it is often said that the audience can imagine imagery more horrific than that that can ever be shown. Such has been the case in film from the moment Bunel matched a knife slitting a woman’s eye with the image of a pointed cloud crossing the moon. It’s been the case since Tarantino panned away from a sliced ear in Reservoir Dogs, and it is certainly true in Fincher’s Se7en. 

There is a natural progression to the violence in Se7en. As the killings become more intense and their frequency increases, less and less is shown with the film almost cowering away from the uncomfortable violence, afraid to even face the increased brutality of John Doe’s killings. Fincher’s almost forensic analysis of each scene fades away as the focus switches to the more human reactions of Mills (Brad Pitt) and Somerset (Morgan Freeman), in a world where humanity is difficult to find. Perhaps the film's most brutal killing, which I don’t wish to describe, is the ‘lust’ killing perpetrated just before its third act. The body is never shown. It is hidden, out of focus, behind the detectives with Mills face obscuring the crime scene. The victim's legs are the only thing visible - a slither of information Fincher will weaponise against the audience. 

The scene is intense and horrifying. The perpetrators performance is heartbreaking as he screams "get this thing off of me" in painful regret, the loud club music matching the intensity. The reaction is enough to gauge the horror of the crime that has been committed. The consequences of the murder as scarring as the act itself. Before the audience is told anything they are already cringing from painful anticipation. The scene cuts off quickly, the loud intensity of the club giving way to the quiet contemplation of a cold interrogation room, the perpetrator sitting, shivering in a chair; his description of the murder painting a vivid picture. Those who have had the pleasure of watching Se7en would agree that a death so brutal is difficult and unnerving to write about. There is almost no actual visual detail given to the audience, except for the perpetrators description of his crime paired with the victims spread out legs and a polaroid of the weapon paints a vivid picture in the audience's head. A picture far more frightening than any of the crimes previously shown in all their detail. Fincher encourages the spectator to actively engage. The film's brutality comes to life in their imagination. 

II. "What's in the Box?"

However, perhaps the film's most iconic use of this ‘hidden horror’ technique is in its third act. Everyone knows the film's most quotable line: ‘what’s in the box?’. It’s one of the greatest lines of dialogue ever written for the screen and one of the most intense third act showdowns ever crafted, but key to it all is the fact that the audience never actually sees what's in the box. It's strange that a film known for its brutality ends with a scene that, comparative to those preceding it, is relatively bloodless. If the audience were shown what's actually in the box, it would ruin the dramatic tension of the whole scene. Again Fincher only allows the audience small details - puzzle pieces: the size of the box, John Doe’s ominous words and the small speck of blood on the top of the object in question. Somerset's reaction is enough to tell the audience all they need to know - the horror again created within their mind. The audience are put in the same uncertainty as Mills, he only has John Doe’s words and Somerset's reaction to go off, but deep down, like the audience, he knows what's inside. The line itself is almost rhetorical. He knows as surely as Somerset and the audience, but he does not want to believe it. The line is said in desperation, it’s said out of fear - he can’t accept what he already knows. The spectator must accept what it doesn’t know for sure.

Se7en is one of the most haunting films ever made, a horrific, terrifying neo-noir not easily forgotten. Its crimes and brutality stick with the audience long after the credits roll. What is shown is brutal and uncompromising, but what really stays with you is the horror you don't see.  

Written by Jonah Prisk | IG: @jonahprisk