David Fincher Series #3: The Game (1997)

‘The Game’ Theatrical Release Poster

Following on from the success of Seven two years previously, David Fincher continued to develop his growing reputation as a director of complex psychological thrillers with his third feature, The Game (1997). It may not be his best loved or most well remembered film, but The Game was another example of the skill Fincher possessed in telling a complex story full of twists and turns. With this offering Fincher was already beginning to carve himself a niche for directing immersive and atmospheric thrillers, and Hollywood was listening; if Seven announced Fincher to the world as a director to watch, The Game re-asserted that announcement and kept them watching.

Watching The Game is a strange experience, it is uncomfortable yet immersive, it quickly sucks you into its world, drawing you into its game, it’s not a good watch for those viewers prone to paranoia. It doesn’t wait too long to bring you into this flash and strange world of the financial high rollers; a world inhabited by wealthy financier, Nicolas Van Orton (Michael Douglas). Van Orton is divorced and lives alone in his vast mansion, with only an on-site maid for any kind of company.

Despite his wealth, his life appears hollow and empty, devoid of any real excitement. That is until he receives a mysterious business card for an entertainment company called Consumer Recreation Services (CRS) from his wayward brother Conrad (Sean Penn) as a birthday gift. As his curiosity builds, Nicholas takes his brother’s advice and decides to visit the mysterious address, finding an impressive office still in the process of being set-up, despite not being sure exactly what he’s signing up for entails, he goes ahead with it anyway. He is subjected to a comprehensive background fitness check and elaborate personality questionnaire, with the whole process remaining ambiguous in purpose, all that’s known is that he has signed up for a highly secretive game, reserved for the bored an wealthy.

From that moment on, Van Orton’s life unravels quickly, as every aspect of his existence is take over and consumed by this “game”, which grows increasingly dark and sinister. With no apparent way to get out of it, the tension, fear and paranoia begin to set in, quickly dominating his entire life, leading him to distrust everything and everyone, leading him into an ever greater isolation, only able to trust himself against the rest of the world and its game of conspiracy. The growing sense of confusion and mistrust is shared amongst the audience too, as The Game’s psychological unravelling begins to leak out of the screen and permeate the viewer’s mind too, until we find ourselves sharing in Van Orton’s growing paranoia.

In this sense, it feels like an uncomfortable interactive experience; the audience are constantly working their cognitive muscles to attempt to stay ahead of the game, deciding who can be trusted, and which way Van Orton should turn next, only to find that we too, reach the same dead ends. Every question apparently answered only leads to further questions and greater uncertainty, until what’s left is a collective uncertainty of what’s real. With every new dead end, the understanding of where this film is going becomes less and less certain, leading to a feeling more akin to relief when it’s all been played out, the viewer benumbed by Van Orton’s constant paranoid machinations.

The final moments of the film find Van Orton – unable to trust anyone – mentally broken, apparently completely out of money and homeless, and it seems as if his story is destined for a depressing suicidal endgame; however – as the preceding events should have forewarned us – this is merely the setup for the final and biggest twist of them all. Ultimately, the final twist shouldn’t come as a surprise, as just when we’ve finally come to a part of the story we can accept and trust, it turns out that we’ve once again been led astray. In this cinematic game, Fincher’s directorial ability wins out; his ability to pace his films; to completely draw the audience’s attention in whichever direction he requires, as well as keeping them emotionally attached to the protagonists is a balancing act which Fincher has mastered time and again over his career, and The Game is no exception.

As mentioned, this may not be considered Fincher’s most renowned or well remembered film, but it is a good example of his growing ability to take on the complexities of psychological thrillers. The themes of paranoia and mental breakdown are themes which Fincher returns to regularly, constantly honing his ability to tell complex and intriguing stories with a dexterity which makes it seem almost simple at times. The ability to tell a story without over-complicating its narrative, is a talent that seperates Fincher from other directors working in the genre, and it’s this ability that has won him so many fans and plaudits over his career.

He has positioned himself as a director of rare skill, telling stories with dark themes, and not shying away from difficult subjects, whilst continually being drawn to those stories that subvert expectations, and toy with narrative devices. His work in adapting the odd, psychologically strange or uncomfortable stories have always been something to admire, starting with Fight Club, but continuing with The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. These written works speak to and appeal to David Fincher’s mind, stories that when compared to his original works, clearly represent a psychological theme that runs through his narratives.

In the minds of Chuck Palahniuk or Stieg Larsson, he’s found kindred spirits, albeit from different creative fields. These are authors who are also unafraid of subverting narrative techniques, presenting troubling characters and anti-heroes; they are authors who don’t write in fear of censorship, because they understand that, as unpopular or uncomfortable as it may be to comprehend, these are equally human stories and their existence is important. These challenging stories and dark characters call into question our narrative conditioning, operating in opposition to our pre-conceived notions of heroes and villains; confronted by this challenge, the reader/viewer’s field of vision is widened to include more possibilities – however uncomfortable – of what constitutes a good thriller or an engaging character.

Overall, The Game is an odd viewing experience, the number of twists, and the consistency by which they arrive, create an unsettling environment for the mind. In the end, as we reach the final showdown, it’s almost impossible to register whether such a thing as a happy ending can exist in this film. The questions rumble through the mind; is the ending suitable or satisfactory? Do I sympathise with Van Orton – who at times appears deeply unlikable – and am I happy with his outcome? Does his brother seem like a spoilt nouveau-riche brat, a caring brother, or a sadist for leading his brother through this psychologically unpleasant “game” as a thrilling birthday gift? This film leaves questions at every turn, but doesn’t allow you time to make up your mind, attempting to think through your emotions and all the narrative permutations whilst everything continues to play out and unravel around you. Fincher leaves his audience turned inside out as they try, alongside Van Orton, to unravel what is real, what is fake and what can be trusted; The Game is not just something the characters are participating in, the audience are drawn in too. This inclusiveness and awareness of how to engage his audience is testament to Fincher’s ability to deal with and tell complex stories, whilst never losing sight of the thread when navigating his way through such complexity.