Most people don't just happen upon a film like The Bunny Game—they seek it out, spurred on by on its notoriety, eager to discover if it is as anywhere near as shocking as its reputation suggests; if, like me, you hunted this one down after reading that it had been refused a certificate by the BBFC, then the chances are you've already seen much worse, for plenty of harsher films exist, and will only be disappointed by what you see here.
An early scene of unsimulated oral sex and the realistic use of a branding iron just about qualify as controversial, but other than that there's very little here that really warrants the fuss and attention; it certainly wasn't the sex and violence that made the film hard for me to endure, but rather the manner in which it was all presented. The avant-garde approach and choppy editing make this film look like the product of a pretentious art school student exploiting shock tactics to make a name for himself.
And like most art school films, it's very boring: there are moments that seem to drag on forever with virtually nothing happening at all; other scenes flash by in a whirlwind of epilepsy-inducing imagery and a cacophony of discordant 'music'. When a film that sets out to disturb has me either dropping off to sleep out of disinterest, or wanting to turn off out of sheer irritation, then I have to consider it a complete failure.
An early scene of unsimulated oral sex and the realistic use of a branding iron just about qualify as controversial, but other than that there's very little here that really warrants the fuss and attention; it certainly wasn't the sex and violence that made the film hard for me to endure, but rather the manner in which it was all presented. The avant-garde approach and choppy editing make this film look like the product of a pretentious art school student exploiting shock tactics to make a name for himself.
And like most art school films, it's very boring: there are moments that seem to drag on forever with virtually nothing happening at all; other scenes flash by in a whirlwind of epilepsy-inducing imagery and a cacophony of discordant 'music'. When a film that sets out to disturb has me either dropping off to sleep out of disinterest, or wanting to turn off out of sheer irritation, then I have to consider it a complete failure.