Movies I Watched Instead of Writing: Funny Games (2008)

Last night we went to see Michael Haneke's American remake of his own film: Funny Games. I had been avoiding Haneke for a long time, not sure if I would be able to stomach his reportedly brutal and downbeat style. But being that I had survived both Irreversible and A Hole In My Heart and actually enjoyed them-- at least on an intellectual level-- it seemed time to give Haneke a try.

While I usually prefer to go into a film blind, I opted to readKatrina Onstad's review on CBC.ca first as I generally respect her opinion and find her to be an excellent writer. For the most part I agree with what she says, although admittedly I have not seen the original and cannot compare them. But, a shot for shot remake ten years after the fact is a curious for your American directing debut.

In a way it makes perfect sense, as it is a rather didactic comment on the American appetite for glossy film violence, one that for the most part was overlooked by the intended audience because lord knows Americans can't be bothered to "read" their movies. And so it was relocated to the Hamptons and English speaking actors capable of convincing American accents were cast.

The film is full of harrowing and impressive acting, particularly Michael Pitt as the chief attacker. Naomi Watts and Tim Roth also turn in predictably strong and emotional performances as the set upon couple, and Devon Gearhart as their son shows talent beyond his years. But, middle-class coldness and the ineffectual American male have become cliches in the intervening years since the original film and act as barriers between the viewer and the characters. But this is likely by design.

However, the film is not simply an "examination of violence" as most critics dismissively have called it. In its construction and content, Funny Games is almost a joke on the audience, mean spirited to those not expecting it, and absurdist to those who are.

The biggest joke, of course, is that very little graphic violence is actually shown on screen. The most horrific violence is only implied with sound effects and careful framing. What he does show is the mundane, the meaningless details and rituals that we cling to even in times of crisis. In an age where studios greedily green light so called "Torture Porn", Haneke's remake is at once a comment on our appetite for violence and a cinematic scolding for our lack of intellectualism.

But to compare Funny Games with something like Saw is to sorely miss the point. The most graphic scene in the film is the one the audience is actually yearning for, not in a sadistic, voyeuristic way, but in a way that satisfies our cinema fed sense of justice. The small audience in the theater with us actually cheered at that scene, which seemed to be the reaction Haneke was going for, since the audience is chastised immediately following the scene with an audacious, almost comical, rupture of the four wall.

Self-reflectivity is introduced early on as a device in the film, with Michael Pitt speaking directly to the camera at numerous points, challenging the viewer to deny their complicitness in the proceedings. And while Haneke does make an interesting point about the role of the viewer, the message feel old and empty. And that is certainly part of the point too.

While pretension usually upsets me in a director, Haneke's cinematic lecture was more like a joke that he himself was in on. It is an intellectual exercise masquerading as a thriller. It wants you to be horrified and angry and upset, because those are the predictable, and in a way most comforting, reactions to the film. But dismissing something solely because it upsets us is both unfair and simplistic.

While the message of the film is far from fresh, Haneke's skill as a director cannot be denied. The specter of Hitchcock is clearly present in the careful framing of visual clues. Even the plot can be seen as an allusion to Rope, with its privileged boys who murder for sport. But while Hitchcock had Jimmy Stewart to dismiss the villain's intellectual arguments, Haneke does not rely on a "voice of reason". He wouldn't see the point.