FUNNY GAMES (2007)

The movie just sort of gives you the finger. Well geez, thanks for that.

Funny Games is an awful movie, but for none of the usual reasons. With nearly hypnotic power, it lures you in and leaves you glued to your seat. No matter how bad things get or how much you want to look away, you remain riveted, and then the movie just sort of gives you the finger. Well geez, thanks for that.

The story begins when Ann (Naomi Watts), George (Tim Roth), and little Georgie (Devon Gearhart) arrive at their lake house for vacation. Their neighbors are talking with two young men they've never seen before, and even though things seem slightly amiss, Ann and George figure it's really none of their business. They go about their usual routine of unpacking and settling in, and Ann is just about to prepare dinner when one of the boys pops in to borrow some eggs on behalf of the neighbor. Not wanting to deny her friend, Ann reluctantly produces the eggs. Peter (Michael Pitt) manages to break them before he even makes it to the door, and suddenly he's quietly demanding more and refusing to leave. He's joined by his friend Paul (Brady Corbet), and neither Ann nor George can get rid of them.

One of the most terrifying things about Funny Games is that everything unfolds in such a mundane way. How is it possible that an ordinary day could turn into an absolute nightmare after the arrival of a spoiled rich kid in tennis clothes? There's no yelling, not a lot of obvious force, yet it quickly becomes clear that Ann and George are now trapped in their own home. Soon their dog is dead, they're fearing for the safety of their little boy, and it seems as though there is just no escape. It makes no sense—George and Ann have done nothing to provoke this, and their captors have gained the upper hand simply by being impossible. Reasoning with them is like talking to a toddler who looks you in the eye with utter defiance and repeats everything you say:

"Please don't do that."
"Please don't do that."
"You have to leave."
"You have to leave."
"Stop it!"
"Stop it."
"Argh!"
"Argh!"

And so it goes. We watch as this ordinary family is humiliated and tortured by two boys with no conscience whatsoever. Why are they doing it? Because they can. It's upsetting and unsettling, but having invested yourself in these characters, it's difficult to turn away and say, "Good luck with that. Hope you make it out okay!"

The movie captures the sense of helplessness and claustrophobia felt by its protagonists, and indeed begins to play mind games with the viewer. It pushes the envelope just as far as it will go, and then with one flick of the finger, shoves it right off the table. If you're content being messed with for 112 minutes, by all means watch the movie. If you'd like to know why I won't let Funny Games have any Moviepie, read on, but be warned, spoilers await.

Having spent about 110 minutes rooting for the family and internalizing the events that unfold from their perspective, it's rather jolting when, at the 111th minute mark we realize the joke's on us. Yeah, the family dies all right, and we're left with those two evil boys who have every intention of taking their funny games to the next house. My beef isn't so much with the fact that the movie victimizes the audience in much the same way it victimized George and Ann as it is with the fundamental change in perspective.

The bulk of the movie is told from the third person limited point of view. If the family doesn't know where the boys are, we don't know where the boys are—it's crucial to the build-up of suspense. But when the boys speak into the camera after killing the family, it's as much a technical error as it is a giant "screw you" to the audience. Our access to this story should have died with Ann and George. Any writing professor will tell you that you can't have it both ways when it comes to perspective—it's either limited or omniscient—and nobody pinches your cheeks and pats you on the head when you fiddle with that rule just to be cute. If Funny Games wanted to be more than an annoying version of Punk'd, it would have taken the boys' perspective from the get-go.