my bad.
I think you had mentioned both directors while I was in Chicago, and their names are so similar that it tricked my brain.
Yeah, probably.
Several of these aspects of the film are more common to detective stories than you make them out to be (i.e. suspense, ethical dilemma, exploration in urban culture, even inquiry on insanity somewhat).
I don't think other films combine them or deal with them as deftly as
Seven does. And I edited that "urban culture" to urban decay, because that's really what
Seven comments on. The philosophical implications in
Seven are a driving aspect of the film.
Also, I want to point out that most "detective" stories, or other serial killer films, always turn into a "who dunnit?" What I mean by this is that some character in the film turns out to be the killer. What's so impressive about
Seven is that the killer is no one we've seen before (in the film; obviously Spacey has graced most of our television sets). And the film handles this so maturely. There's no need for it to be a "who dunnit," and the prospect of it being "just a man" (as Somerset says) is far more terrifying.
No comment on most of these, but I will say that I've seen plenty of films with what I'd consider much more interesting characters. You call the film a 'bildungsroman of sorts', but neither of the main characters really seems to have evolved much from the beginning to the end. Det. Mills' whole fulfillment of Wrath actually pidgeonholes his character somewhat since the crux of his part in the story is basically that he cannot overcome his 'tragic flaw' of short-temperedness.
I think Somerset is the one who evolves throughout the film.
No one episteme (or personal system of knowledge/belief) is right or wrong in the film. Near the end, Somerset actually starts to gravitate towards Mills somewhat. When Mills says "I think you want to believe them because you're quitting" he exposes Somerset's hypocrisy, and this is a big setback for him.
Furthermore, the conclusion of the film sees Mills not proven wrong, but merely proven incompatible. I would argue his hamartia is not his short-temperedness, but his idealism; and how can we actually hold this against him? John Doe represents an anomaly that Mills cannot comprehend; that he's done these evil things, but he's "just a man." Mills believes that he has to be dealing with something "fucked up" and "evil." And if it's evil, then he has to be "good." Somerset doesn't believe this, and because of this is essentially giving up at the start of the film; however, by the end he quotes Hemingway: "'The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for.' I agree with the second part."
What this final quote means is that he's
not quitting anymore. He's not giving up. Mills convinced him.
