Funny Games

I watched this year's remake of "Funny Games" prior to the original, simply because its sick-with-irony trailer got me extremely curious. Granted, this goes against my usual process of viewing a remake's precursor prior to the remake itself, but I couldn't help myself. By the end, I was astonished by writer-director Michael Haneke's audacity in telling a macabre home-invasion story devoid of Hollywood glamour, humor, and mercy–remake or no, it's still one of the ballsiest exercises in visceral, reality-based horror ever released by a major studio.

So, when I decided to give the original "Funny Games" a spin (mere days after my viewing of American version), I was filled with presupposition toward how much I would appreciate the original (with the twists of Haneke's shot-for-shot remake still mapped out in my mind)–similar to a sadistic "bet" our captors make with their prey, I was wondering if this earlier, German-language version would survive on its own terms. And, while each version is practically identical (save for some subtle nuances in the performances, the slightly varied location design, and–of course–the spoken language), both quite miraculously carry the same visceral, jaw-dropping sucker-punches as the other. Unlike the much-derided American remakes of "The Vanishing" and "Les Diaboliques," Haneke sees no need to let either culture off the hook, especially when each has its own prominent history of violence, on- and off-camera.

Ironically, the references to metalhead couch potatoes Beavis and Butt-Head probably seemed like an incendiary bitch-slap to the passive glamorization of American filmed violence in the 1997 version, but there is an even stronger sense of irony when the MTV-hosted duo are referenced in the remake–on the shores that birthed them, and the cult following of Generation Y-ers that has accumulated in the years since the show's cancellation (a sure sign that our passivity, if anything, is more pronounced now). It's subtle observations like this that give both versions of "Funny Games" an added resonance.

If anything takes some getting used to in the 1997 film, it's the general unfamiliarity of the cast. After seeing a collection of familiar performers run through Haneke's horrifying 2008 experiment, the German cast begins with a studied approach to the performances that eventually loosens into hysteria and desperation that is just as convincing as their remake counterparts. It is truly stunning how Haneke mines the same static framing and intense performances to ends that are equally effective in both films (even knowing the outcome of a protracted long take following a pivotal off-screen event, I found the experience just as emotionally agonizing to witness).

While it may seem hypocritical to "side" with Haneke (at least in the context his film creates), especially when I patronize (and am prone to enjoying) films that frequently downplay the reality of human suffering, the effect in both versions of "Funny Games" is undeniably powerful–these are difficult, ugly, and emotionally draining films crafted with undeniable (and remarkably subtle) purpose. If there's any catharsis to be had from them, it will be in the introspection and assessment of your own attitudes toward violence.

I think this movie attempts something virtually impossible, and probably only a German filmmaker would be interested in this particular problem. Watching film is intrinsically exploitive. Often the cinematic exaggeration of entering personal space results in violence. What about this?

An intelligent exploration of this problem from the viewer's side is "Clockwork Orange." Therapy in that case is forced viewing of a movie, presumably the exploration from the filmmaker's side. This is that movie.

Because it is about itself, it enters into a conspiracy of awareness about itself with the viewer. The intruders wink at the audience. Just before the movie begins the phase where it starts to shape up as a movie, that intruder remarks on it not yet being a movie. At one point, the action is "rewound" to be replayed with a different outcome.

It is all very clear. But the challenge is not to remark on the problem, but to say something interesting or new or useful about it. That may be impossible, at least with normal narrative techniques, so this exercise is something of a waste.

The one interesting thing for me is the white gloves. Most commenters assume this is to avoid fingerprints, which goes against every motive we see. As it is the only noticeable costuming, one must conclude it is to denote the cartoonish element.

Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.

I've been watching a lot of films directed by Michael Haneke recently. Why? I don't quite know, probably a combination of things really, availability (UK channel film-four dedicated a Eurovision's season to his work), boredom, and mainly curiosity. When a director has the power to divide an audience as smoothly as the red sea, I take note. When a film comes along that seems to challenge its audience to switch off, look away, find something more rewarding than the monotony of cinema, I can't help but be intrigued. However, reputation and moral outrage does not, a good film make -- and the over-hyped shock of reactionary audiences could not be more present than in the backlash/acclaim dished-out to Haneke's psychological thriller/cum social conscience -- 'Funny Games'.

The title, 'Funny Games', is a curious one, because there's nothing in particularly funny about these Games -- this is without a doubt one of the most unrelenting and unnerving films ever made. It's not horror, but it's tightly wound scenes of tension have a shocking affinity with 'The Texas Chain Saw Massacre' and 'The New York Ripper'. And despite the certainty that this is definitely not a comedy, the majority of the actors still make sly, ironic references, and mug uncontrollably to the camera, the sort of behaviour more at home in a Mel Brooks' spoof than a 'serious' film. However, the multitudes off-putting contradictions only derail Haneke's subtle cinematic depth (he can be a good director when the mood suits him). Hitting us with a message that is so crystal clear, you could write it on a blackboard and even the most shortsighted student at the back could make it out.

The film begins with a family car travelling through a lush Austrian countryside, filled with willowing green trees and homely lakeside cottages. The family, comprising of mother Anna (Susanne Lothar), father Georg (Ulrich Mühe) and young son Junior (Stefan Clapczynski), are on their way to spend a relaxing week of boating, fishing and entertaining with friends, a truly stereotypical portrait of the bourgeoisie. I wouldn't want to ruin the set-up, but from the minute the family arrives at their glorious lakeside home, a mere ten-minutes into the film, you can tell things are about to turn nasty. In setting-up the arrival of the two, white-clad young menaces, Haneke lays down the heavy-hand. Signposting events to the audience with glee, he makes the two youths come across like the killer equivalent of Laurel and Hardy, rather than a male counterpoint to Bonnie and Clyde. Understandably, from this point on, 'Funny Games' spirals way off track.

What follows is one of the most heart stopping, nihilistic and degrading portraits of humanity ever produced. An hour-long onslaught of violence -- sexual, physical, and mental, often at the same time -- and although Haneke goes to great lengths to make sure none of the violence is ever depicted on screen, we are frequently treated to one bloody aftermath after another, complete with copious amounts of screaming from the victims and 'comic' head-scratching from the victors. But unlike a lot of commentators of the film, my negative reaction isn't based on moral outrage, but on the principal fact that 'Funny Games' just isn't a good film. It attempts to convey a serious message, but does so with all the shallow, stylistic emptiness of a Hollywood blockbuster.

To those who trash the film on grounds of violence and pretension, I think you're watching the wrong kind of movie. 'Funny Games' is (supposed to be) about violence, if you know of its reputation then you'll know Haneke is hardly a close cousin to Steven Spielberg, so why is there such surprise when the events turn nasty. In terms of cinematic pressure building 'Funny Games' doesn't do to badly, there is at least a spark of ingenuity to some of the set ups. However Haneke does nothing with these sequences -- his entire objective with the film is to play off the audience's lust for violence and anticipation for characters to be picked off. His message is clear from the start, and after an hour it becomes grating.

Simply put, 'Funny games' doesn't want to do anything other than shock the audience. There is no insight, no creativity and no direction -- in short, it's a film with great promise, but little discipline. If you've seen the pathetic 'Man Bites Dog' or Oliver Stone's over-indulgent 'Natural Born Killers', then you've seen this kind of thing done a million times before and you'll understand why films like this never successfully work . This is the cinematic equivalent of a car wreck, it's messy, violent and never something you'd want to be involved in, but to the spectator it holds an almost forbidden, voyeuristic curiosity. So if you decide to brave the nihilistic mayhem of 'Funny Games', and for whatever reason, find yourself feeling outraged and appalled by the excessive diversions the film takes, don't say you haven't been warned. 1/5

I think there is a valid argument to make that the universal visceral impact that Funny Games has on audiences undermines the very thesis of its director Michael Haneke. I use the word thesis very deliberately because Funny Games is an intellectual academic statement. Plainly it is not an entertainment movie but I don't consider it to be an art film either. Haneke intended it to be neither in my opinion. I think he intended it as an assault on both Hollywood and the audience. It's the cinematic equivalent of punk. Rock music against rock music. This is an analogy Haneke draws the audience to himself by overriding the classical music Anna and Georg are listening to with some extreme punk music on the sound track. We are left in doubt that the world of Funny Games belongs to Peter and Paul. Anna and Georg and their bourgeois taste in music are treated with utter contempt before Peter and Paul even appear on the screen.

Getting back to my original point: I think there are two parts to Haneke's thesis. The first is that Hollywood has commodified and sanitised violence and turned it into thrilling entertainment. Hollywood violence doesn't show the reality of violence or its consequences on those it is inflicted on. The second part of his thesis is that Hollywood's portrayal of violence has dehumanised and inured the audience and reduced their capacity for empathy and sensitivity. I fully agree with the first part of his thesis. The problem is most people do. I think you would be hard pushed to find any reasonably intelligent, educated person who doesn't agree with Haneke in this regard. Anyone who doesn't isn't going to be enlightened by watching Funny Games. On this point I can't help feeling that he preaching to the converted.

It's the second part of his thesis that he inadvertently undermines. Haneke set out very deliberately to make violence real again so that the audience feels it in their gut. Funny Games isn't real violence though. It's still just a film. However it is a film that manages to make a huge impact on an audience well accustomed to watching violence on the screen. This clearly indicates to me that audiences are smart enough and sensitive enough to be able to tell the difference between Hollywood trite and a convincing portrayal of violence. You could argue that Haneke had to resort to making such an extreme film to have the intended impact on an audience dulled by years of cinematic violence. However Funny Games isn't actually that violent. Compared to the average Arnold Swarzenegger movie it's actually quite tame in both the quantity of violence and how graphically it's portrayed. What makes Funny Games so disturbing is the emotional content in the impact and consequences of the violence on the victims. This is effectively contrasted with the casual approach, understated sadism and emotional shallowness of the perpetrators. If audiences were as lacking in sensitivity as I think Haneke is suggesting then surely Funny Games would have simply have been accepted as another piece of horror entertainment.

Haneke said something along the lines that anyone who stops watching before the end doesn't need Funny Games, anyone who watches it to the end does need it. This strikes me as thoroughly arrogant and is quite wrong in my opinion. Nothing can be implied about anyone who watches it to the end and there is no such thing as a film that an audience needs. Funny Games is a superb piece of cinema and there is no doubt that Haneke was fully successful in what he set out to achieve. However what exactly is it that Haneke thinks that the audience needs from it? As I said earlier most of the audience already understands the point he is making about Hollywood. It seems to me that Haneke is trying to shame the audience into realising how immoral they are for watching violent films. I fundamentally disagree with him if this is his intention. Personally I have no problem with the cartoon violence of Hollywood for the very reason that it is lacking in any real emotional content. It would seem that Haneke not only has a problem with the cartoon violence in films but with actual cartoons. Both Tom and Jerry and Beavis and Butthead are referenced in Funny Games. If Haneke is seriously suggesting that Tom and Jerry cartoons are a moral problem then he is beyond ridiculous.

Having said all this I still give Funny Games a 10 out of 10. Whether we agree with Haneke or not he made us react, think, defend and argue. He also made a truly remarkable film with some of the most heart breaking and profound acting I have ever seen. Funny Games a deeply intelligent film and I don't doubt Haneke's total sincerity and moral integrity. I just don't necessarily agree with him.

In this cross between Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf and A Clockwork Orange, two insolent young psychopaths torment a vacationing family.

It was hard to organize my thoughts on this movie, never mind rating it. As a thriller, this is a tense, well-acted, and relentless experience, marred only by a contrived sequence two-thirds through in which characters behave in unbelievably stupid fashion. However, said sequence is preceded by an incredibly effective ten-minute take. Unusually lengthy takes are often deemed self-indulgent, but this one is anything but.

As an ideological statement, though, this film is a failure. And there is no doubt that writer-director Michael Haneke is trying to make a statement. By having one of the psychos address the camera a few times, saying things to the effect that they have to give the viewers their money's worth, Haneke is essentially wagging his finger at anyone who has ever enjoyed the portrayal of violence in a film. This theme is certainly open to debate, but the problem is that Haneke expresses it in such a condescending way. His harrowing treatment of violence already serves as an excellent counterpoint to other films that glamorize it. There was no need to then leave viewers feeling as though they'd just been lectured by a stern parent.

The last time a filmmaker made me angry, it was when I saw Independence Day, and it was for the same reason. In both cases, the writer and the director display contempt by assuming their audiences are idiots. My anger didn't really ignite, though, until I watched a short interview with Haneke on the DVD. It made me never want to see another one of his films. The man is disgustingly full of himself.

So why the relatively high rating? Because as pretentious and self-important as Haneke is, he is also very talented. The movie is very effective on an emotional level, and it's possible to watch it while ignoring the director's wrong-headed decisions.