Will Smith’s Seven Pounds is what I aptly expected as a well-thought-of follow-up to his Pursuit of Happyness. It was, on the contrary, a lengthy public service announcement on the risk of text-messaging while driving.
The first few minutes of the flick showed signs of an interesting mystery movie for Smith. The series of challenging muddled scenes was a torture, giving me a little hope on how to connect all loose ends. For goodwill or otherwise, Smith’s actions were a puzzle yet to be solved. His behaviors seemed to have no apparent motive-
Called 911 to report a suicide. Berated a blind meat salesman over the phone. Tagged along the same man to engage in a gentle conversation afterward. Spied on a hospital patient. Etal.
All throughout the film, it was Smith’s unfailing pain-struck expression that caught my attention. His sad face play all the more ignited my presumption that the movie will further develop into a heavy drama. His repetitively forever-change-your-life spiel not only offered curiosity of the film’s ending but likewise confirmed its beyond the pursuit of happiness stance.
Enlightenment surfaced nearing the picture’s conclusion. May well be a bizarre manner of making amends for a devastating mistake in his past, Smith’s purpose was made clear from the beginning – seek seven lives he deemed worthy of his fortune to finally make up for the seven lives he took. But what made the film both psychologically absorbing and exhausting was the way the movie progresses, very careful not to fully reveal the motivation of the main character by showing only snippets of the past and the present. I salute director Muccino for this – carefully manipulating the story with a high goal not to break Smith’s illusiveness.
The very slow pace of the flick might have caused grave emotional burden that left me dumbfounded for a few minutes. The story was indeed both surprising and poignant.
A classic case of tragic redemption, the “lucky” heirs include: (1) brother ben for his lung lobe; (2) wife-beater victim Connie for his beach house; (3) child service worker Holly for his liver; (4) hockey coach George for his kidney; (5) young boy Nicholas for his bone marrow; (6) meat salesman and pianist Ezra for his corneas; and (7) terminally-ill Emily for his heart.
At the end, and aside from reminding me the famous DON’T DRIVE WHILE TEXTING campaign, the movie reiterated Squidward’s warning to Spongebob-
Jellyfish is not a pet.