Funny Games

Ignore the déjà vu. Michael Haneke's "Funny Games" is nearly a scene-for-scene, word-for-word remake of the 1997 original. He even used the blueprint of the original house to make the new one.

"There were certain shots and angles I would do differently, but I didn't have to add anything," Haneke said. "Adding something small, like a different location, was just as honorable. It's the same film with different circumstances."

Leaving his native land of Austria for America, Haneke has found the target audience: people who appreciate "barrel down" cinema and understand how life has been made consumable. The results could be called masochistic.

"I mean, in order to do a shot-for-shot remake you have to be masochistic at some point," Haneke said. "It was very challenging."

The premise is terrifyingly simple: a well-to-do family, the Farbers, goes on vacation to their summer lake house on Long Island. The family is comprised of George (Tim Roth), his wife Anna (Naomi Watts), their son Georgie (Devon Gearhart) and their dog Lucky.

Because the film was a shot-for-shot remake, casting played a crucial role in pre-production. Haneke agreed to the project under one condition: Naomi Watts would star.

"Like Isabelle Huppert in 'The Piano Teacher,' Naomi Watts had the necessary vulnerability to play the part," he said.

On the drive to their summer home, the family passes by neighbors Fred and Eva and two innocuous preppies, who are awkwardly called "relatives."

One of those lads, Peter (Brady Corbet), stops by the Farbers and asks for some eggs for Eva. Trying to be helpful, Anna fetches them for him, but asks how he got onto their property. He coyly mentions the hole in the fence - pointed out to him by Fred.

It's a peculiar introduction that only hints at the horror. The film grows exponentially nightmarish as the time runs on.

The stranger's peculiar nature is soon matched by that of Paul (Michael Pitt). After an ill-tempered argument over shattered eggs, Paul earns a slap in the face from George, who gets a retaliatory golf swing and a broken leg in return. Over the course of the next hour, the two well-groomed young men terrorize the family and force them to join in on their sadistic "funny games."

What would you call it? Thriller? Horror? Don't ask Haneke. He doesn't know either.

"I leave the labeling of my films up to the critics," Haneke said, smiling.

The film turns all genre conventions on their heads, toying with the spectators and their hopes and expectations. The perpetrators come from the upper-echelon of society, not the roguish background the audience expects. Graphic violence is rarely caught on screen, mostly conveyed in the sounds of John Zorn or the screams in the background. Animals and children are killed mercilessly.

"Funny Games" is a furious onslaught on the Vincent Vegas and Mr. Blondes prowling the cinema screens. Haneke hopes to show the reality of violence and pain and the wounding of another human being. Subverting the genres, he is obsessed with the effects on the victims, and Peter and Paul's victims are not just the family - they're also us.

Haneke blurs the line between fiction and reality, goading us to be a part of the action. Peter and Paul are "characters without past and future," Corbet explained. "There are more like devices to the plot than anything."

Paul repeatedly breaks the fourth wall and addresses the camera, fully knowing that he is involved in a movie. As Anna goes out to look for her dog, Paul looks into the camera and winks at us. The film hinges on a wager: "We bet none of you will be alive tomorrow morning at nine. If you win, we'll wait until after nine to kill you." When he proposes the bet to the family, he turns to the camera and asks us if we will side with the family and take part in the bet.

When the mother grabs a gun and shoots Peter, Paul snatches the remote control to rewind the events and secure his status as the winner, denying audience bloodlust.

Haneke was explicitly interested in how viewers interact with his film. The fact that he has remade it is a complication of the viewer relationship, not a recapitulation.

"The original asks, 'Why are you watching?' " he said, "and now it asks, 'Why are you watching again?' "

Haneke is not a violent man and doesn't show any fascination in the subject. He has brought the movie to America to turn the lights on and wake us up. If masochism is implied in remaking one's own film, there is also the risk of self indulgence. Some have even accused Haneke's project of being greedy, forgetting that films where dogs are killed don't usually post big numbers at the box office.

"There was no financial gain for Michael," Corbet said. "He has nothing to prove. He wanted to show the issue, not himself."

The problem is that the issue is harrowing and, if nobody is in the seats to watch, they won't get the message. The movie will not change the world. It might only strengthen the views of the converted, but even that might make the film worthwhile.

If you feel sucker-punched, that's precisely what the doctor ordered.

David John Hommel is a staff writer. E-mail him at film@nyunews.com.