They don't make them like this any more. Directed by Peter Medak (The Ruling Class). Written by Hilary Henkin (Wag The Dog).
Like many of Tarantino's efforts I rewatch this looking for more than is there and, finding not much, promptly forget that there's nothing there. The cast is fantastic but poorly used: Gary Oldman does what he can, giving the time of day to anyone who asks as a bent NYPD officer. Lena Olin goes Russian, above and beyond. Michael Wincott doesn't need to get out of first gear. James Cromwell is wasted in an almost non-speaking role. Annabella Sciorra works her smile even harder than she did in Jungle Fever. Roy Scheider as a mob boss! The script just falls apart at some point, roughly when a poorly handled twist involving Juliette Lewis shows just how deft Se7en was. The concluding wish-fulfilment arc (in a court building, in an Arizona drive-past diner) is painfully meaningless. Mark Isham's soundtrack is often effective as it slides from classic (but unoriginal) trumpet-driven noir-jazz to electronic horror.
Roger Ebert: two stars. Janet Maslin.
