All this narrative nesting and genre-skipping sounds very cerebral on the page, but in practice, Seven Psychopaths is as pleasurably kinetic as can be, full of double-crosses and gunplay and sun-kissed SoCal locations.
Meta to the max, filled with clever jokes and observations that stick like barbs and deflated ones that land with a thud, "Seven Psychopaths" is a leisurely riff about movies, violence, storytelling and the art of the steal.
What movie junkie out there wouldn't leap at the chance to see merry pranksters such as Christopher Walken, Sam Rockwell and Woody Harrelson go nuts in something called Seven Psychopaths? It's crazy-killer fun.
There's something overtly mechanical about McDonagh's approach that keeps it all from being as outrageously fun as it's pretending to be. But it is enjoyable to watch the parade of actors McDonagh has assembled ...
Put a gun in the hands of Woody Harrelson and some glorious gab in the mouth of Christopher Walken - the most deadpan of deadpanning thespians - and it's impossible not to make something of this profanity-flying conflation.
Movies about moviemaking can often feel lazy -- like rock songs about touring, or poetry about sitting in cafes -- but McDonagh is such an energetic filmmaker and fancy-footed writer that he nearly pulls it off.
In writer-director Martin McDonagh's hazy but fun meditation on friendship, the art of storytelling and masculine morality gone off the rails. If it's hard to keep 'em all straight without a scorecard, just go with it.
There's ... a uniquely affecting spiritual component to McDonagh's work, something he explores here via two sublimely ridiculous stories-within-the-story about a razor-wielding Quaker and a vengeful Vietnamese monk.
An energetically demented psycho-killer comedy set in faux-noir L.A., Seven Psychopaths rollicks along to the unique narrative beat and language stylings of Anglo-Irish writer-director Martin McDonagh, channeling Quentin Tarantino.