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Marty, though, wants his film to be about "love and peace" and halfway through "Seven Psychopaths," he contemplates a sudden turn away from the expected plot mechanics. He imagines the characters simply leaving their guns, going to the desert and talking. Apoplectic, Billy responds: "What are we making, French movies now?" For a while, this is exactly what "Seven Psychopaths" does and it's when it finds its footing. McDonagh is best in such Beckett-like limbos heavy with Catholic guilt
-- the delightfully grim "In Bruges" was essentially set in purgatory, a.k.a. Belgium. The very talented writer-director has often drawn fair comparisons to Quentin Tarantino (both enjoy the chit chat of hit men), but McDonagh's work has a darker soulfulness, even when meta playfulness like that in "Seven Psychopaths" obscures it. Also in the desert, Walken's character -- whose slow, deliberate enunciations are like a soothing metronome for film
-- takes peyote, which is worth the price of admission, alone. After breaking apart the crime film, McDonagh puts it back together again for a conclusion worthy of the genre. In the end, the movies
-- in all their insanity -- win. The French lose. "Seven Psychopaths," a CBS Films release, is rated R for strong violence, bloody images, pervasive language, sexuality, nudity and some drug use. Running time: 110 minutes. Two and a half stars out of four. ___ Motion Picture Association of America rating definition for R: Restricted. Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian.
[Associated
Press;
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