I dare not reveal too much about the film. Like House of Games, it plays with one's perceptions, as you never know more than the main character does. The plot involves Michael Douglas as a tycoon who lives by himself in a huge Xanadu-like mansion in San Francisco. For his birthday, his brother (Sean Penn) gives him the services of a company which stages elaborate games or jokes. As soon as the game begins, however, he feels his life falling apart, from his pen leaking onto his shirt, to his cell-phone not working. In time, things get much more serious, as Douglas believes someone is trying to drive him to imitate his father's suicide.
Unlike many films of this type, this film has relatively little violence. Director Fincher seems intent on aping a suspense film of the Hitchcock variety rather than a gory slasher flick. In many ways, he succeeds: the best chills in this film come through suggestion rather than in the actual portrayal of what the characters fear. One waits in anticipation for his next film: it has been rumored that he will direct the fifth and final Batman movie (if it is made at all).
Fincher conjures up a number of frightening visions. Among them are a taxicab quickly being submerged, a trashed hotel suite, and a cafeteria filled with all the "extras" we ever meet in life. Perhaps the scariest is a mansion vandalized with garish day-glo paint, as Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit" plays. I always thought that song was creepy, now I know for sure.
I don't wish to hide my natural dislike for Michael Douglas. This is the rare performance of his that I like, however, because he displays a great deal of vulnerability, and at the same time, does not portray himself as a sex magnet. Based on this film and Wall Street, perhaps chilly aloofness and fear are the emotions that best become Douglas. Sean Penn is seen only briefly, but is most effective. As usual, he leans heavily on hysteria and fear. Hey, you do what you do best, right? Right. Deborah Kara Unger, as a woman who passes through Douglas' life is all right, if rather anonymous. Then again, anonymity is the main point of the role. Armin Mueller-Stahl makes an extended cameo appearance but brings little to his role besides an incomprehensible accent and his Gestapo physiognomy.
Harris Savides, the cinematographer does a thousand variation on darkness (he also has a cameo as "Man on toilet"). Howard Shore's score, as with Cop Land, is strongly atmospheric. Ultimately, however, it is not any individual effort which keeps this film from being a classic. It is the plot itself. The ending both satisfies and fails to satisfy. Ultimately, it is too pat. Don't ask me how to better end it. It's just that some films about mind games (Vertigo, House of Games), work better than others.
Thus: a film with most of its parts working, but still flawed. In a word, the ingredients of a future cult classic.
Three stars
Copyright 1997 by Dale G. Abersold
