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Right on the Money
January/February 2014

Harsher jail sentences, patriotism, the importance of family — these are certainly traditionally (but not exclusively) conservative preoccupations. Where it becomes more interesting, perhaps, is in trying to detect in movies the existence of what you might call a more fundamental conservative sensibility. An example of it can be found in the 1995 thriller Se7en (available, as is The Exorcist, on DVD), a film which has grown in stature and is now considered something of a masterpiece. On the face of it, this is pure, almost clichéd genre material: two cops, the jaded detective Somerset and the young and eager Mills, attempt to find a serial killer who is working his way through the seven deadly sins. Directed by David Fincher, the movie is clever and unusual for our time in that it manages not to show any of the murders, only the aftermaths. Set in an unnamed modern metropolis, it is stylistically somewhere between film noir and hell on earth. It is relentlessly, grindingly grim, and despite the absence of gratuitous violence, a strong stomach is needed for some scenes. It is a hugely accomplished film.

But what makes it special is that at its centre there is a conflict: Somerset (Morgan Freeman) has a knowledge and belief in the classics — Dante's Purgatory, Chaucer, Thomas Aquinas — which equips him with the ability to understand and get to grips with the killer and his crimes, whereas the arrogant and childlike dismissal of such knowledge by Mills (Brad Pitt) leads to a terrible fate for at least two of the main characters. Somerset is stillness itself; Mills is full of that random, uncomprehending "energy" which resents all restraint and priority. One is the old way, the other the new; but having lost its moorings, the new has nowhere to go other than towards its own destruction.  

There are other factors in Se7en which make it interesting for a conservative, not least the fact that, despite having an admittedly warped sense of religiosity, the killer is not explained away in terms of anything as banal as his childhood or background. He sees sin all around him but so, too, does the pessimistic yet still methodical Somerset. "Ernest Hemingway once said ‘the world is a fine place, and worth fighting for'," he intones wearily in voiceover at the end of the film. "I agree with the second part." There is many a conservative, I imagine, who would second that.

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