People often say that the ending of a movie is the most important element. An average film with a spectacular finale will be remembered more fondly than a movie that is great for 90 minutes but sucks for the last five.
However, although this is one of the most important and difficult aspects to perfect, there are issues that need to be overcome right from the outset. Literally. For the first five minutes of a film are possibly the most vital to a screenwriter. An audience in the cinema may not walk out after a bad first five minutes, but anyone reading your screenplay will probably bin the thing if it is not done properly.
The opening five minutes needs to do several things. It needs to a) introduce us to the protagonist and their world. B) It needs to establish the genre and style of the film. C) It needs to be interesting enough for us to want to carry on watching. Also, from a writers perspective, it is a chance to show your talent – to make anyone reading the thing realise they are reading the work of someone who knows what they are doing. Because if you can’t convince them within the first five pages, they won’t read another 100 just to see if they were wrong in their initial assessment.
You have to watch bad movies to see what you need to avoid (and there are a lot of these around) and good movies to understand what works. Seven, starring Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman, definitely falls into the latter category. I have seen this film at least half a dozen times and it is one of those films where you cannot fail to see what a well-made and greatly scripted piece of work it is. Andrew Kevin Walker was 27 when he completed the screenplay in 1991, a quite astonishing feat for a writer of such a young age. It is interesting to note that the opening five minutes of the original draft are different to what ended up in the shooting script – content was removed and what we are left with is an efficient, concise and clever opening five minutes which sets up the story perfectly.
Black screen. The sound of sirens and street noise. The first thing we see is a man (Somerset) loading a sink up with dirty plates. A chess board in the foreground. It’s a rather unremarkable opening image but very much in keeping with the grounded reality of this character and the world he lives in.
We quickly cut to Somerset in his bedroom looking at himself glumly in the mirror, smartening his tie. We then see several items neatly laid out – a pen, a handkerchief, a police badge and a knife. He picks up the badge, the knife and then the pen. Finally, he removes a single hair off a jacket that is laid out on his bed before putting it on and turning out the light. We are forty seconds in, that’s barely a page in screenwriting terms and we have been given a wave of information.
We’ve been introduced to the protagonist and although we don’t know his name and he doesn’t actually say a word, we are told details about this man and who he is through visuals. A picture says a thousand words and in this case it’s almost true. We learn that he is a detective (through the badge and lack of police uniform) and the lack of other characters in the scene infers that he is a loner, with no family. Further to this we are given several hints to his personality. The chess board, the neatness and the routine of the way he gets ready for work, all point to someone who is meticulous, patient and a man of routine. Someone who pays attention to every detail. The sirens, police badge, knife and gun are all visual and audio references to the genre.
And if that doesn’t highlight the genre enough then the next image definitely does. A dead body covered in blood. It’s a crime scene. Something we are going to get used to seeing. Another detective describes witness accounts of what happened. We are learning this information at the same time as Somerset (who is examining the crime scene at this point). We instantly feel more involved with the scene. We are being given clues and information at the same time Somerset is. It engages the audience.
The detective describes the scene as a “crime of passion”. Somerset looks at a blood stain and sarcastically returns with “Yeah, look at that passion all over the walls”. His first line shows us his inclination to not commit to anything unless he is totally convinced and also a rather pessimistic world view. Somerset puts his glasses on and inspects a photo on a fridge. He asks the officer a question. “Did the kid see it?”. The officer dismisses him and mocks his question. He then says “we’re all gonna be real glad when we get rid of you Somerset. It’s always these questions with you. Who fucking cares if the kid saw it?”. One line, three bits of information. His name is Somerset, he is soon to leave his job and he is someone who is always questioning things, someone who is determined to get to the truth. None of this interaction feels forced either. And the foul mouthed detective who proudly displays his gun on his hip is a nice contrast to the gentile Somerset. We are just over a minute in and it’s worth noting that the dark, murky and oppressive style is already established at this point.
Then Brad Pitt turns up. He’s young, good looking and chewing gum and wearing a leather jacket. He introduces himself to Somerset as Detective Mills. So within his first 5 seconds on screen we know his name and his swaggering persona is hinted at. We cut to outside the building as they leave the crime scene. It’s raining – and this just adds to the grimy realism of the scene. It rains a lot in this movie. Mills and Somerset have a brief chat. Somerset challenges Mills. “You actually fought to get re-assigned here?” and Mills replies with “I just thought could do some good”. Somerset’s weathered realism is in stark contrast to Mills’ youthful optimism and vigour. A theme that runs throughout the film. A difference of ideals and only one will prove to be accurate by the end of the film.
Mills reveals that Somerset is quitting and Somerset tells him to “keep his eyes and ears open for the next seven days”. This is a challenge to both Mills and to the audience who will no doubt be rooting for Mills throughout the film. The seven days comment also sets up the format of the film – it’s broken down into seven days, each a chapter of the story as we will see in a minute. Mills tells Somerset that he isn’t a novice – he’s been in homicide for five years. A nice way of touching upon his past without showing us through flashback (or another clunky method). One line, that’s all it needs.
Three minutes in now and Somerset is reading in bed. He is alone. Confirmation that he is single and probably childless. He releases the swing arm of a metronome and it begins to tick like a clock. He closes his eyes and focuses on the sound, blocking out the street noise and raised voices. He quickly falls asleep. This little scene shows that Somerset somehow manages to cope amongst the madness. He can locate and focus on something even if the world around him tries to smother him.
Then the credits roll. Heavy, raw music plays over a montage of juddery, brief shots of what appear to be a serial killer cutting his fingerprints off his fingers, writing in a journal, collecting newspaper clippings etc. Another reminder of the genre and the dangers that await our protagonists.
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