USA, 1955
"SEVEN"
USA, 1995
"Beware of the false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits. Grapes are not gathered from thorn bushes nor figs from thistles, are they? So every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot produce bad fruit, nor can a bad tree produce good fruit. ... So then, you will know them by their fruits." - Matthew 7:15-20(NASV)
I
Having previously viewed "Night of the Hunter" through the lens of American Christianity gone wrong, I want to assume a different perspective. If "Night of the Hunter" is the story of a corrupt (yet surprisingly typical) American preacher, it is also the story of a false prophet. The film begins with Rachel Cooper (Lillian Gish) reading Matthew 7:15 aloud to her orphans. In that passage, Christ warns against a specific type of false prophet, the sort that comes "in sheep's clothing." They come professing the truth, but underneath their innocuous guise is a ravenous wolf.
Rev. Harry Powell is one of these wolves in sheep's clothing. Despite his bizarre tirades against women and sexuality (which he saves for those already poisoned by his charm), his message is conventional: good vs. evil. Few in the film express reservations toward him. His disguise is effective.
There are two questions that occur to me as I watch this film: "What are the false prophet's teachings?" and "How do we identify those teachings, if they are disguised?" In "Night of the Hunter," Rev. Powell continually delivers the same simplistic, contrived, and sensational message - he illustrates the battle between good and evil (incorporating the story of Cain and Abel) via the tattoos on his knuckles. It's not a bad message, but it's not particularly revealing. What strikes me most about the message is how it draws attention to the messenger. Granted, many of God's prophets used "illustrated sermons" that undoubtedly called attention to the messenger rather than the message (many times, God would purposely obscure the message). I imagine many of Ezekiel's displays called more attention to the tortured prophet that to his God. But it remains that Rev. Powell's message is man-made, and made for man. He is appealing to his audience - his mixture of earnestness and charm immediately wins a crowd, in a way I'm sure Ezekiel did not. It may be that a message too attractive to the masses, too easily embraced, is probably not from God.
Naturally, there will be times when the God's Word appeals to the masses (remember the crowds that came to Christ). Both false prophets and true prophets can create a stir - so how do we separate truth from falsity? The Bible teaches us to test the spirits, but is not very specific on what that entails. How do we test the spirits?
In "Night of the Hunter," a few characters seem immediately repelled by Rev. Powell. One is Walt Spoon, whose wife, Icey, is quickly caught in Powell's snare; another is John Harper, whose young sister Pearl is likewise snared by Powell's charm. Their reservations toward Powell have different bases: Walt clings to common sense, immediately suspicious of a man who seems so incredibly good, so willing to care for a widow and her young children. John, on the other hand, clings to his father's warning against anyone who comes seeking the stolen money.
And then there is Rachel, who sees through Powell quickest of all. When Powell arrives to her front door looking for John and Pearl, her assessment is immediate and correct: "He's not a real preacher." What separates her from the other women in the film, all of whom are so easily taken in by Powell?
Rachel is the only character in the film (aside from Powell himself) who can quote the Bible verbatim. Her life is devoted to raising orphans, thereby aligning herself with the work of God (Deuteronomy 10:18). She, more than any character in the film, is devoted to the business and values of Christianity. She has submitted herself to God, and her knowledge of Scripture is profound. She can recognize the wolf in sheep's clothing without looking twice.
It would seem, then, that there are three defenses against false prophets. The first is illustrated in Walt, who simply uses his brain. If Powell fools half the characters in the film, he doesn't fool Walt, nor does he fool the audience...we can tell just by looking at this man, hearing his words, that something isn't right. His sincerity is too sincere, his empathy too empathetic, his kind voice too kind. The second defense is illustrated in John, who heeded his father's warning. If that analogy isn't clear enough for you, go back to Sunday school. Finally, there is Rachel's defense, the most effective of all. She maintains closeness to God, His works and His teachings. If you know truth intimately, you will identify falsity immediately.
David Mills: "I thought all you did was kill innocent people."
John Doe: "Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny? An obese man, a disgusting man who could barely stand up...a man who, if you saw him on the street, you'd point him out to your friends so that they could join you in mocking him...a man who, if you saw him while you were eating, you wouldn't be able to finish your meal. After him, I picked the lawyer and I know you both must have been secretly thanking me for that one. This is a man who dedicated his life to making money by lying with every breath that he could muster to keep murderers and rapists on the streets. A woman so ugly on the inside she couldn't bear to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A drug dealer...a drug dealing pederast, actually. And let's not forget the disease-spreading whore. Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. But that's the point: we see a deadly sin on every street corner, in every home, and we tolerate it. We tolerate it because it's common, it's trivial. We tolerate it morning, noon, and night."
I believe Rev. Powell is one kind of false prophet. In the rich diversity of the Biblical texts, there are many others. If there are wolves in sheep's clothing, then there are also sheep in wolves' clothing. There is John Doe in David Fincher's grisly parable, "Seven." If Rev. Powell is a serial murderer disguised as a preacher, John Doe is a preacher disguised as a serial murderer.
A careful reading of Matthew 7 reveals something very curious. While Christ instructs us to judge a tree by its fruit, he identifies trees separately from their fruit; he establishes that a good tree is good separate from its fruit, but that it can only produce good fruit (same goes for a bad tree...it only produces bad fruit). But a bad tree can give the appearance of good fruit (e.g., Rev. Powell, the wolf in sheep's clothing; his teachings seem good, but he is evil). By mocking good fruit, he seems a good tree.
By that measure, can a good tree give the appearance of bad fruit? Can a good tree seem bad?
This is a question we must consider carefully as we examine "Seven." If Rev. Powell seduces people with his preaching, John Doe repels people with his. Powell commits his murders in secret; Doe commits his to be discovered.
Doe is not the center of "Seven." That is William Somerset (played by the incomparable Morgan Freeman), a soon-to-be-retired detective on one last case with his young apprentice, David Mills (played by the equally incomparable Brad Pitt). Somerset is the archetypical film noir protagonist, a genre as thematically Biblical as any I've discovered (rivaled only by the Western). He may be stronger, morally, than Sam Spade, but he is also older and more tired. He has grown weary with the world's evil, yet he is continually compelled toward it. Like any film noir hero, he is attracted to world's darkness and despair, never sure if he wants to heal it or simply participate in it. His cynicism could match any character in Dashiell Hammett - at the film's end, he says, "Hemingway once said, 'The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for.' I agree with the second part."
Upon its release, "Seven" was compared to "Silence of the Lambs," but it fits squarely into film noir...it belongs nowhere else. Clarice Starling would never be drawn to Doe's crimes, nor would he be attracted to her; she is too optimistic, too alive. Only Somerset, with his sad detachment, and Mills, with his wildness and wrath, could live here. Their apocalyptic city, an unidentified metropolis that's more Gotham than New York, is dark and dreary. Everywhere there is crime, murder, rape, and the lowest depths of human depravity. As if this setting weren't enough, we follow Somerset to an unpatronized library, where he seems intent on sinking further - he explores the blacker works of Dante, Chaucer, and Shakespeare, his fascination with humanity's sickness nearing addiction.Granted, Somerset disguises his obsessions with a calm, quiet life. He possesses an empathy common to all noir heroes. Mills' wife Tracy (Gwyneth Paltrow) is enchanted by him (especially compared to her slow-witted husband), and he, in return, shows her kindness and understanding. Midway through the film, she reveals to him that she is pregnant; she has not told her husband, and wonders if she should keep the child. He responds by telling her about his past (a brief glimpse, the most we ever get from him); he once fathered a child, but told his girlfriend to abort the pregnancy. He felt, at the time, that the world was too horrible for children. He has since changed his mind...or so he tells Tracy, and encourages her to keep the child.
Somerset is merely trying to save Tracy from a lifetime of regret. There is nothing in the film to negate the assessment of his youth. For Somerset, the world is a horrible, ugly place, infested with sin and evil...that's the only truth he sees.
That's the truth John Doe seeks to convey. His sermon is delivered in seven parts, with seven murders, each representing one of the Seven Deadly Sins. His sermon is terrible and profound, and vividly illustrated - each of the victims is killed in a manner reflecting their sin. A glutton is forced to eat himself to death; a greedy lawyer must carve a pound of flesh from his own torso; a slothful drug addict is forced to lie in bed for a year, slowly starving to death.
The difference between Doe's message and Rev. Powell's is substance. Powell speaks eloquently but to little effect, and ultimately says nothing. His fruits (murder, theft) are hidden from sight. Doe speaks brutally, violently - his message is clearly conveyed. It is sound and even Biblical: sin results in death, sin is ugly, God hates sin with intense hatred. His fruits are not hidden, but are they good or bad? When he defends his actions to Mill, he speaks with terrifying sanity - who will really miss the lawyer, or the prostitute? What did they bring to society but sin and disaster? Besides, we know what the Bible says about them....
Mill is thick-headed, unwilling to hear Doe's explanation. He has already decided that Doe is a psychopath (though by the end of the film, he will be forced to rethink that assessment). Somerset, on the other hand, is quiet and attentive as Doe explains himself. We can see disgust in his eyes, disgust for Doe's deeds. But there is also a sad understanding...and there is confusion. Somerset has seen the evil that Doe describes - he has seen the world through Doe's eyes. He cannot get past the possibility that Doe is right.
Is Doe right? Is his message true? Are his horrible fruits good? I don't want to answer those questions. My gut reacts with repulsion toward the horrible murders...but go read the book of Judges, read of those prophets, and decide for yourself. Christ said to judge them by their fruits, and John Doe's fruits seem awful. But if a wolf can wear sheep's clothing, can a sheep hide beneath wolf-skin?
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To read my previous review of "Night of the Hunter," click here. For more on "Seven," read the reviews by Roger Ebert, Edward Guthmann, Rita Kempley, and Peter Travers.
