dir. David Fincher
writ. John D. Brancato & Michael Ferris
feat. Michael Douglas, Sean Penn, Deborah Kara Unger, James Rebhorn
Fincher's followup to Seven maintains the high-concept storyline while subduing some of the tonal burden, shifting that weight into more substantive depth to the characters, particularly Douglas as Nicholas Van Orton, a stubborn, vain, friendless milliionaire businessman. Van Orton is served up perfectly, both despicable and sympathetic, a deserving mark for the troubles that beset him as he's drawn into the world of the game being played upon him thanks to a loving brother (Penn) and later an underdog to root for once the threats become too real.
The film itself is a game, keeping the viewer guessing at every turn, unsure of what is real and what a put-on, and if anyone (including the storyteller) may be trusted. And like the best prank, the ultimate revelation leaves the fool with the rush of discovery, the deep satisfaction of being tricked effectively and cleverly. While such stories suffer in repeat viewings, that rapturous sensation impossible to repeat, a closer look at The Game offers up several wonderfully quiet moments, the skill Fincher demonstrates in his patient story development, lending as much subtle weighty atmosphere to a short conversation in the kitchen between Van Orton and his housekeeper as he does tension in a gun-blasting chase scene.
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