To be successful, every movie requires at least some suspension of disbelief. And for the most part, audiences are willing to oblige such a big ask–up to a point. (Remember in Jaws 4, when the shark actually roared? Ain’t nobody on board for that stupidity.) A movie like The Game doesn’t so much demand the suspension of disbelief as the total disregard of it. For just over two hours, we have to forget we’re watching the machinery of a screenplay, replete with wheels and gears. I’m giving this movie 3.5 stars with the hope you can enjoy the steady, sturdy tick of a well-made watch. If not, you’d better subtract a full star and keep scrolling through your streaming device.
Michael Douglas stars as Nick Van Orton. He’s a riff on the same guy Douglas has played in many movies: A wealthy, dispassionate yuppie, powered by an intimidating arrogance. The film opens on Nick’s birthday, as he responds to every well-wisher as if it’s a chore. That even goes for Conrad (Sean Penn), his ne’er-do-well little brother. They meet for a fancy lunch, during which Nick expects a request for money. Alas, nope–Connie has a surprise gift! It’s a certificate to play The Game, an enigmatic real-world experience that leaves Nick both annoyed and intrigued. Of course, Nick has no time to be fascinated. He politely thanks Connie and mentally chucks this strange gift into bin.
Turns out, Nick might be through with the Game, but the Game ain’t through with him. Things begin to go awry in Nick’s Scotch-soaked, leather-bound world. He walks into his mansion, only to find Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit” blaring on the speakers. Neon spray paint snakes across the walls. A financial news anchor pops onto the TV, with a custom message for Nick: He is to embark on a city-wide scavenger hunt, in which neither the risk nor reward will be made immediately clear. If the game moves like a raging river, Nick is already swept in its current.
From this point, Nick’s life falls into shambles. Business deals begin to fall apart. Friends and family act suspiciously. Eventually, he will question every part of his reality. Like a bad mushroom trip, The Game threatens to untrack Nick’s entire way of thinking. Along this perilous journey, he meets a tough, resourceful waitress (Deborah Kara Unger). She might be Nick’s most valuable ally, or she could be the Game’s deadliest player.
I could give you more, but I don’t want to kill the film’s buzz. The Game‘s best viewing is its first, where you get to experience every twist and bend alongside Nick. Everything builds to an ending that won’t blindside you so much as force you deduce from several likely scenarios. All this guessing simply adds to the film’s twisted sense of fun.
As always, Douglas is excellent as the well-manicured yuppie sleaze. As director David Fincher (Se7en, Fight Club) submerges Nick into The Twilight Zone, we believe every bit of Nick’s trembling panic. Meanwhile, Penn does fine work as Connie, the brother who’s quick to smile, quick to charm, and quick to poof into thin air. A movie like The Game is heavily dependent on star power to sell its dense, demanding script, and Douglas and Penn don’t disappoint.
In fact, you could think of that script as an escape room. Fincher strands you in a claustrophobic space, and you have to spend two hours ciphering your way out of it. Many people in escape rooms fall into two categories: Those who smirk at the props and clues, while others frantically take every detail apart as if their life depends on it. Which group pertains to you will determine how much you enjoy The Game.
128 min. R. Netflix.
