Saw VII

I think it's a reasonable statement to say that the Saw series has lost its way. What was once a fairly intelligent torture parade with a tantalizing villain has been spun into a simple-minded blood 'n guts affair with its liquidated brains leaking out from its repeatedly bludgeoned skull. It's become the thing that many of the franchise's episodes have been wrongfully portrayed as -- an unstoppable stampede of overly gory set-pieces, with its sole intention to mutilate and disgust. This blood-soaked stampede, however, looks to have been pulled to an overdue, screeching halt.

Marketed as the final Saw movie ever, installment number seven of the flesh-tearing saga is a chaotic train wreck that will severely disappoint loyal fans who have stuck with the series' convoluted continuity. I myself have watched each chapter and have enjoyed the majority -- one, two, three and six in particular are at the very least decent, competently constructed flicks. This 3D-filmed feature, on the other hand, is quite the opposite.

After the opening titles, during which we see the original's Dr. Lawrence Gordon (The Princess Bride's Cary Elwes) cauterising his bloody stump of a right leg by painfully pressing the open wound up against a scorching red-hot pipe, we have the as-per-usual opening trap. Or should that be "crap"? Petrified onlookers watch through a publicly displayed glass window as two startled boys are given the harsh choice to either kill the other with the circular saw on the table they're chained to, or let their girlfriend (who's the same promiscuous lass) get cut in two halves. The outcome of this scene serves absolutely no purpose whatsoever and is never mentioned again. It's just like the filmmakers went, "Hey, why don't we have a random, pointless trap at the beginning of the movie that doesn't tie in with the main plot in any way, unlike the other ones did?" Sigh.

Following this soon-forgotten clip, we are replayed the distressing aftermath of the ending of part six, in which the evil Lt. Mark Hoffman (Costas Mandylor) just barely survives the trap set on him by Jill Tuck (Betsy Russell), the nefarious widow of the famous Jigsaw Killer (the awesome Tobin Bell). With his face now sewn up, Hoffman - who's understandably gone a little cuckoo - is hell-bent on grisly revenge, causing Jill to go into hiding with the police.

Meanwhile, Bobby Dagen (The Boondock Saints' Sean Patrick Flanery) - who has been pretending to be a survivor of Jigsaw's challenges for profitable purposes, even writing a successful book about it - is put to the test in a brand new series of ironic trials involving those affiliated with his life and his money-making schemes. It's all so repulsive, and it's all so familiar.

Saw VII showcases a series high of eleven tests, most of which I shall hesitantly admit are rather creative. Hoffman and Jigsaw obviously have an unlimited budget, crafting intricate devices intended to disfigure the morally corrupt victims they barbarically deal with. Some caused me to roll my eyes, two made me cringe and whine in my seat. One in particular is quite a simple idea but nonetheless an effective one that should sicken anyone who owns a full set of pearly white teeth.

Still, this doesn't stop the film from being nothing more than a brain-dead splatter-fest which rams a crowbar into the shins of substance and fiercely drowns it in its own blood. Director Kevin Greutert - who helmed the immediate predecessor - laughably makes sure to film the areas of pain where the protagonists are suffering, pointing the camera at disembowelled entrails and a whole array of squirting bodily fluids just for kicks. I'd say that this is the most violent of the series - in 3D, no less - and it certainly does not benefit from this ghastly factor of gory gruesomeness.

None of our characters are the least bit likable, rendering the emotions shown in the torture scenes practically superfluous. We watch the obnoxious sinners - one of whom is a detestable racist - getting mercilessly cut to pieces. We don't particularly care if they live or die. We're apathetic to their survival. Screw ‘em.

This isn't helped by the downright bad acting from the majority of the cast, who aren't exactly Marlon Brando or Meryl Streep. Flanery is fine, he conveys fear and trauma to a reasonable level, but our lead detective, Gibson (Final Destination's Chad Donella), is as bland and unmemorable as the film itself.

Mammoth-of-a-man Hoffman, our angry antagonist, has been reduced to a slasher-killer in the vein of Michael Myers, bar the iconic Halloween murderer's intimidating presence. And Jill, once a strong femme fatale with the stubbornness of a bull, is now a running, scared, ditzy blonde who I gazed at in wonder if I was meant to be rooting for her or not.

Jigsaw, the best and most layered character in the series, pops up in only one scene, aside from all the voice-work he does for the rule-setting tapes. Of course, this could be attributed to the fact that he died in the third installment, but come on! The last three made excuses for loads of flashbacks with him! Gimme my Jigsaw! For Christ's sake, Billy the Puppet has more screentime than him. The long-awaited return of Dr. Gordon also feels a bit lackluster, his anticipated appearance additionally punching more holes in logic into the already shaky plot. Damn it, screenwriters!

To put it lightly, Saw VII is an unsatisfying "conclusion" to an overlong franchise, possibly even the worst of the malevolent saga. It's intended to be the grand (ha!) finale, but the inevitable twist ending annoyingly sets up an opportunity for more quickly made sequels. Ugh. Will this series stagger on and continue? Will it cut off its leg and hop to the bargain bin at Blockbuster? Will it stupidly live, or will it hopefully die? Make your choice, moviegoers.

3/10