Unlike my other reviews that have been about the films themselves, this will describe the effect it had on me. Just to clarify, I am an 18-year-old Brit who has seen more than his fair share of violent films, and I thought I could take the content of this one.
When I noticed in a listing magazine that Funny Games was being shown, I looked forward to it. I had heard that it was a film about the corrosive nature of movie violence, and contained many unpleasant sequences. This is, of course, the other reason I wanted to see it, the reason I did not admit to myself: I wanted to see the violence.
As I was watching the film, I found some of the scenes unpleasant, and understood and agreed with the moral subtext. I wondered in my mind during the commercial breaks who would play the leads in an American remake of the film. It was only towards the end that it occured to me that no-one was going to survive, and that my boredom during long, uneventful shots was partly because I wanted something violent to occur. As the deafening thrash metal played over the end credits, and Paul's empty smile gazed at me, it finally dawned on me what was happening. I did not find the violence in Funny Games repulsive because I have myself become desensitized to it. That is the genius of Haneke. If you decide to walk out of the cinema/turn off your TV/press stop on your VCR, you will have lost the game of Chicken that not only Haneke, but also Peter and Paul are playing with you. You will probably get out unscathed and you will know your limits. If you decide to stay to the end, you win the game, but at what cost? If, like me, you did find such suffering and humiliation intolerable, is that not more disturbing than any violent act you can possibly imagine?
That night, I couldn't sleep.
When I noticed in a listing magazine that Funny Games was being shown, I looked forward to it. I had heard that it was a film about the corrosive nature of movie violence, and contained many unpleasant sequences. This is, of course, the other reason I wanted to see it, the reason I did not admit to myself: I wanted to see the violence.
As I was watching the film, I found some of the scenes unpleasant, and understood and agreed with the moral subtext. I wondered in my mind during the commercial breaks who would play the leads in an American remake of the film. It was only towards the end that it occured to me that no-one was going to survive, and that my boredom during long, uneventful shots was partly because I wanted something violent to occur. As the deafening thrash metal played over the end credits, and Paul's empty smile gazed at me, it finally dawned on me what was happening. I did not find the violence in Funny Games repulsive because I have myself become desensitized to it. That is the genius of Haneke. If you decide to walk out of the cinema/turn off your TV/press stop on your VCR, you will have lost the game of Chicken that not only Haneke, but also Peter and Paul are playing with you. You will probably get out unscathed and you will know your limits. If you decide to stay to the end, you win the game, but at what cost? If, like me, you did find such suffering and humiliation intolerable, is that not more disturbing than any violent act you can possibly imagine?
That night, I couldn't sleep.