(a review of Seventh Son (2014))
I’m mostly a sucker for medieval fantasy films. Throw one in front of me and I’ll watch it (unless the words “Directed by Uwe Boll” are somewhere involved). I do have my limits, in all seriousness. Bad effects, poor writing and story, these things start to wear on my patience despite the setting. Seventh Son isn’t the bottom of the barrel for the genre, but it’s as low as I’m willing to reach.
Jeff Bridges plays the mush-mouthed aging last of the spooks, hunters of evil creatures. Spooks can only be the seventh born son of a seventh born son, but inexplicably there used to be a lot of them. Until Julianne Moore came along, as well as some more likeable actors. There’s some bull about Bridges and Moore being previously in love, and Bridges buys a new trainee after Jon Snow dies (shut up, you were thinking it too). New trainee sucks, then doesn’t, then he’s also the son of a witch because not all witches are bad, then his mom dies, and blah blah blah.
If this all sounds a bit typical, it is. Usually I’d be fine with that though, and the movie certainly had its good aspects (fun antagonists, good effects, an interesting love story, Djimon Hounsou), but between Jeff Bridges thinking that talking that way was a good idea, the extreme variance in the fight choreography styles, how rushed the whole thing felt despite the timeline making little sense, and how it ended thinking that it was going to get a sequel when it clearly would not, I can’t really find a reason to watch this movie again. I get a slight pang of guilt when I’ve purchased a DVD and know that it’ll sit on my shelf forever, or until my daughter decides to take up the mantle of film buff. Not only because I have spent the money, but also because I like to have an impressive collection, and bad, purposeless movies drag that idea down. I could get rid of it but that’s even more of a waste of money.
My point is that Seventh Son is pretty forgettable. Not truly bad but certainly not good, and even more damning is that it isn’t satisfying. It has little to stick in your mind, and a year from now I’ll look at the side of the case and briefly think, “Did I watch that one, or…?”