It's not everyday that a remake is made identical shot for shot as its predecessor. Haneke's 2008 horror film Funny Games does just that. The film uses an aesthetic that strains the viewer by way of what cannot be seen, as executed by Guillermo del Toro's El Orfanato. Visually entangled in a minimalist tableau, the mise-en-scene offers a stark and startling reappropriation of space. The living room of George and Anna's vacation house has gone from being a relaxation spot to a hopeless waiting room with no phone access and other serene removals from the chaos of media.
Beyond this binary of 'what we see' vs. 'what we don't see', the former very well points to the obsurdities and periphery information that films visually offer, rather than the direct knifings or gorey murder scenes. While slasher films as well as psychological horror films tend to rely on blood and gore to propel the agony of hyperviolence that's now become mainstream and borderline trendy (think Quentin Tarantino), the effect is numbing and a bit less potent when used in excess. Funny Games throws the fun cocktail of blood and dungy torture devices into the wind, and tries on some fresh and clean New England linens.
Golf, Anyone?
The story depicts your typical wealthy and humble family going on a short New England vacation. Anna (Naomi Watts), George (Tim Roth), and their 8 year old son Georgie arrive at their weekend lake house for some secluded upper-class sailing, golfing, and relaxation. The home is crisp white, both interior and exterior, conjuring a Cape Cod-inspired mise-en-scene, as it overlooks the brilliant green yard and the lake that reaches out as far as the eye can see. Then two 20-something year old blonde brothers, Peter (Brady Corbet) and Paul (Michael Pitt), come by in a neighborly fashion asking to borrow eggs.
They claim to be friends of Anna and George's neighbors on the island. So Anna attempts to accommodate their polite needs. Narrated in real-time, Peter seems to drop the eggs multiple times, which simultaneously raises the discomfort for both the viewer and Anna, who at this point is enraged by the consistent polite and demanding nature of Peter and Paul as they request more eggs. What ensues is a series of games, orchestrated by Peter and Paul, geared toward physically and psychologically tormenting this family, as well as other residents of this seemingly safe and happy vacation spot.
A Refreshing Minimalism in the Horror Frame
If it's not the blood and gore provoking the viewer, then what is producing the unbearable experience? The stuff outside of the frame. Where'd Peter and Paul go? Is there time for Anna to escape the living room and make it to neighbor's house? The plot is ultimately navigated by nonsensical mind games, directed by a waving knife and a smile, no less. Beyond the minimalist cinematography, the emblems of affluence and civility as exhibited by Peter and Paul, brothers and prep school students, become the very devices that prove to be barbaric, torturous, and ultimately deceiving. The prep boys end up entrapping their pray with polity and golf clubs (literally).
Haneke provides a new kind of realism for modern horror. You don’t necessarily need to be stuck inside of a cave with mutated human slayers (The Descent) in order to be afraid. Actors Michael Pitt and Brady Corbet really embody the characters of Peter and Paul, offering a stellar, horrifying conscience-less duo that manipulates the narrative and aesthetic components of the film in a haphazard and refreshingly uncoded way.
Pointless, or Innovative?
While some critics pin this film as a pointless pop-culture product of Haneke’s cynicism, it takes on an aesthetic that proves to be ancillary in the way of the horror genre, and absolutely effective. A.O. Scott of the New York Times wrote: "At least with the remake Funny Games, Mr. Haneke shows a certain kinship with someone like Eli Roth, whose Hostel movies have brought nothing but scorn from responsible critics." While Roth's Hostel and Haneke's 2008 Funny Games can be considered comparable based on the psychological serial killer genre slot into which they fall, the latter re-appropriates a conventionally 'other' space (i.e. the domestic space) rather than latching onto the dark, grimy factory space of Hostel. A more appropriate comparison would have to be Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange, for its keen and horrifying portrayal of affluence and boredom in American youth culture. The motive is more about violence and attaining immediate and conscience-free pleasure, rather than being about a deeper issue of revenge or jealousy.
Funny Games doesn't just take narrative and spatial risks; it delivers on them. I'd go as far as calling the film innovative. The starkness of both storyline and aesthetic makes for a truly focused and intentional tone that most horror filmmakers do not fully master. The fact that the film is steeped with some social commentary on the way media performs upon the viewer, makes for an even richer effect. The viewer then takes on the dualistic roles of aware viewer and entrapped viewer, intercutting and ultimately operating like comic relief (it's the new Scream, really). Cuttingly and crisply scary, the film invites the viewer to think twice about the vulnerable serenity of a happy family vacation.
Jessica Lipman - I am a freelance writer with a specialty in film and literary criticism, as well as general academic writing. I've written extensively on ...
