Quentin Tarantino’s last few films have crept closer to cinema’s theatrical roots. Sequences occur in contained rooms, recalling the claustrophobic, object-driven narrative environment established by the physicality of the stage. These scenes are dominated not only by the director’s trademark dialogue but also by an assured language of compositional details, which guide our eyes through the frame and divulge information with a meticulous sense of craft. Tarantino’s detractors are bothered by his compulsion to bloat his works with references to cinema’s long, colorful history, as well as an occasional penchant for comically distorting his vested tone. But after recently having the opportunity to re-watch Inglourious Basterds, it became clear that the work overall was more significant than the handful of lame gestures that prevented me from outright embracing it. A filmmaker calling attention to himself is often irritating, especially when he uses dialogue to inject his own opinion of what he’s created. But this isn’t, and shouldn’t be, anything but an unfortunate stumble along a journey that’s far more complex and rewarding than the singling-out of that gesture would imply.

The Hateful Eight is Tarantino’s most confined feature yet, which initially calls into question his use of the 70mm format. Upon first blush, the decision registers as an arbitrary homage to the golden age of American Westerns. While it is that to some degree, it’s also a method to capture minuscule details in the expressions and appearances of each duplicitous character.

The film begins in the early stages of a Wyoming blizzard as John Ruth “The Hangman” (Kurt Russell, channeling The Duke) nears the end of a journey to collect his reward, Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh). Along the way, they encounter two stranded individuals who Ruth reluctantly adopts as passengers. The first man is the clever and cruel Major Marquis Warren (Samuel L. Jackson), a bounty hunter we learn fought in the union army during the Civil War and the closest thing the film has to a lead character. The second scoundrel to be happened upon is Chris Mannix (a viscerally animated Walton Goggins), who identifies himself as the newly appointed sheriff in the town of Red Rock, where the entire ensemble is headed.

The four arrive at Minnie’s Haberdashery, a cramped, one-room lodge where they meet the remaining faces that make up the titular hateful eight. Bruce Dern’s Sanford Smithers was a Confederate general during the war. He has made the trek to Wyoming in the twilight hour of his life hoping to learn how his son was killed. John Gage (Michael Madsen), is a reserved, weathered cowboy who is almost certainly hiding something. Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth, chewing scenery in the best possible way) is a sly Englishman who claims to be Red Rock’s new hangman. Last but not least is Bob (Demián Bichir), the suspiciously gauche steward purporting himself as an employee of Minnie, thus the caretaker of the haberdashery in her absence.

It’s easy to argue that the narrative in which characters trapped in an inescapable setting are driven to face one another has been cinematically exhausted in decades prior. But Tarantino’s perspective on popular hatreds harbored throughout American history is strangely essential and unpacked with a necessary dose of self-awareness. He illustrates the tight-knit relationship between prejudice and contempt by procuring a tonal delirium punctuated by comic terror. Underneath lines of dialogue, which are programmed to register as humorous, lie disturbing implications about who our characters are and what they represent. At first, animosity is personified only through verbal slander. When tensions begin to rise, Mobray decides to split the room in half, sending Confederate sympathizers to one corner and supporters of the Union to the other. Later on, as viewers familiar with the sensibilities of Tarantino would predict, this animosity is emulated through the graphic mutilation of flesh. The segregation, however, isn’t the first instance in which folly manifests itself physically.

A percentage of those who see The Hateful Eight will be crushed by the weight of unflinching cruelty that man is capable of. But the film, circumventing all expectations, has the audacity to end on a note of coarsely drawn optimism. We’re shown the worst sensibilities of the soul through bloodied eyes, and as the tumult begins to dissipate, it becomes clear that someone’s hatred eventually had to be compromised. In a sea of gore with no redemption in sight, a subconscious shift in mindset embodies what is perhaps the most vulgar step toward progress ever captured on film.

Quentin Tarantino‘s really got his hands full, huh?

Following the director’s recent comments regarding police brutality—“I’m on the side of the murdered,” he said at a New York City rally on Oct. 24th—police unions across the country, including the Border Patrol and the Fraternal Order of Police, have called for a boycott of all Tarantino films, including his upcoming snowy western The Hateful Eight.

Tarantino’s been defending his stance on the issue, claiming he’s “not a cop hater.” The murder of a New York police officer, Randolph Holder, just a week before his appearance at the controversial protest, didn’t help quell the fiery national debate that quickly erupted around the director’s comments.

Fighting tooth and nail for his right to speak publicly against police brutality is surely the last thing the widely beloved director was planning to do in the final weeks leading up to his eighth feature film, but a shiny nugget of good news has arrived today in the form of a new, awesome trailer for The Hateful Eight.

The movie’s had a rough road—if you remember, it almost didn’t get made at all when the script was leaked to the public by one of star Bruce Dern‘s people (that bastard!). Tarantino scrapped the project in a fit of rage, but thankfully for us he changed his tune. Perhaps most members of law enforcement won’t be coming out to watch the film in “glorious 70mm” this Christmas like the rest of us, but maybe the latest trailer will compel some of them to show up in disguise.

The Hateful Eight stars Samuel L. Jackson, Kurt Russell, Bruce Dern, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Walton Goggins, Demian Bichir, Tim Roth and Michael Madsen. Here’s the official synopsis:

Set six or eight or twelve years after the Civil War, a stagecoach hurtles through the wintry Wyoming landscape. The passengers, bounty hunter John Ruth (Kurt Russell) and his fugitive Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh), race towards the town of Red Rock where Ruth, known in these parts as “The Hangman,” will bring Domergue to justice. Along the road, they encounter two strangers: Major Marquis Warren (Samuel L. Jackson), a black former union soldier turned infamous bounty hunter, and Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins), a southern renegade who claims to be the town’s new Sheriff. Losing their lead on the blizzard, Ruth, Domergue, Warren and Mannix seek refuge at Minnie’s Haberdashery, a stagecoach stopover on a mountain pass. When they arrive at Minnie’s, they are greeted not by the proprietor but by four unfamiliar faces: Bob (Demian Bichir), who’s taking care of Minnie’s while she’s visiting her mother, is holed up with Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth), the hangman of Red Rock, cow-puncher Joe Gage (Michael Madsen), and Confederate General Sanford Smithers (Bruce Dern). As the storm overtakes the mountainside stopover, our eight travelers come to learn they may not make it to Red Rock after all…

The Hateful Eight drops on Christmas Day, but only in the 70mm format. It releases wide on January 8th on all formats.

Quentin Tarantino‘s long-awaited 8th film The Hateful Eight is set for release this Christmas, but the first real glimpse at footage has just arrived in the form its new trailer. The Hateful Eight collects an impressive ensemble of actors including Taratino’s returning favorites (Samuel L. Jackson, Kurt Russell, Walton Goggins, Tim Roth, Michael Madsen, and Bruce Dern) along with a couple of new faces (Jennifer Jason Leigh, Demian Bichir, a perhaps-under-wraps cameo from a Foxcatcher star) for this tale of betrayal “six or eight or twelve years after the Civil War.” Filmed in gorgeous 70mm against the snowy mountainscapes of Colorado (in place of Wyoming, where the story is set), this trailer reveals the central cast of characters in all their fur coat, brimmed hat, twanged accent glory.

The Hateful Eight centers on a stagecoach lead by bounty hunter John “The Hangman” Ruth (Russell) as he drives toward the town of Red Rock, where his passenger Daisy Domergue (Leigh) is set to hang. On the road, the two come across Major Marquis Warren (Jackson), a former union soldier who has taken up bounty hunting himself, as well as Chris Mannix (Goggins), a Southern renegade that claims to be the town’s new Sheriff. Attempting to escape an intensifying blizzard, the four duck into Minnie’s Haberdashery to discover four unfamiliar faces in Bob (Bichir), Oswaldo Mobray (Roth), Joe Gage (Madsen), and Confederate General Sanford Smithers (Dern). The travelers attempt to outlast the storm as well as each other, and make it to Red Rock alive.

Let us know in the comments what you think of the latest trailer for The HateFul Eight

There’s been a recent trend with documentaries to use the memoirs of the late and the famous as a primary information source. That trend involves celebrities reading the memoirs, diaries, and other writings of the famously departed. In 2013’s Love, Marilyn, actresses including Glenn Close, Viola Davis, Uma Thurman, and Marisa Tomei speak words written by the iconic Marilyn Monroe. From earlier this year, Listen to Me Marlon uses audio recordings of Marlon Brando—from the actor’s private collection—to offer a narrative as well as get a glimpse inside the legend’s mind.

Now, making its Toronto premiere at the Toronto Jewish Film Festival, comes A Fuller Life, a documentary about the late writer/director Sam Fuller. The source for the doc is Fuller’s memoir, A Third Face: My Tale of Writing, Fighting and Filmmaking. Conceived and directed by Fuller’s daughter, Samantha, the film gathers a collection of celebrities to read excerpts from that memoir.

The list of celebrity readers is an eclectic one. Some were chosen because of their work with Fuller, like the quartet of Robert Carradine, Mark Hamill, Perry Lang, and Kelly Ward, all of whom appeared in Fuller’s The Big Red One (1980). Others were chosen for their personal relationships with him, like longtime friend and actress Jennifer Beals. And others still had no direct connection to Fuller, but still seemed to “fit,” like James Franco who, according to Samantha Fuller, reminds her of “a young Samuel Fuller during his formative years.” Fifteen celebs in all contribute to telling Fuller’s story.

That story is, for the most part, a highlight reel of his life. Entries include tales of his youth in New York’s newspaper industry, where he went from being a paperboy to the youngest crime reporter in the city; his time as a spec screenwriter in Hollywood, where he cranked out gritty thrillers (like 1963’s Shock Corridor); and his experiences serving in the Army in World War II. (It’s noted by Samantha Fuller at the start of the film that Fuller is the only person to have stormed the beaches at Normandy AND made a film about that fateful day.)

As was the case with Love, Marilyn, the structure of this doc allows for varying degrees of quality and interpretation of material based on who is reading. I found Franco to be rather uninspired and Bill Duke (a terrific character actor whom I’ve always liked) overselling it somewhat. Everyone else is fine, with the exception of actor Tim Roth and director Wim Wenders, both of whom are remarkable. This is not simply because of their “performances,” but also because of the stories they read. Roth reads of Fuller’s military training (using live ammo) and the storming of Normandy, while Wenders follows immediately with a glorious tale of how Fuller met Marlene Dietrich at a USO show. Their delivery of these points in Fuller’s timeline are hypnotic.

It isn’t only the recitations that make A Fuller Life such a compelling watch. The dialogue is all Fuller’s, having been pulled straight from his memoirs, and every word of it crackles. The author of the hard-hitting novel The Dark Page never lost his literary flair, and it pays off huge here.

Also well-executed is Samantha Fuller’s direction. This film isn’t simply a collection of men and women reading from a book, of course. As those readers read, footage culled from 160 reels of Sam Fuller’s personal collection is shown. This footage adds great weight to what is being read. It is combined with what looks like b-roll, so sometimes it’s easy to forget what is Fuller’s footage and what isn’t, but the overall presentation is still quite good.

Samantha Fuller’s use of clips from films written for the screen by her father is also interesting. The clips directly correlate to the points in Fuller’s life being covered at the time of the doc. It’s fascinating to see how heavily Fuller’s screenplays were drawn from, or influenced by, his personal experiences in journalism and war and elsewhere. It’s so compelling, in fact, that a visit to Fuller’s filmography feels in order.

There’s nothing like a Friday the 13th for survival film releases. 2015 is a rare year in that we’ll have three such Fridays, so if you squandered February and March’s there is still time come November. This probably works in filmmaker’s favor in that we might just be in the mood for more thrillers, horrors, and harrowing survival tales this year. But demand or not these overdone genres need to step up their game if they are going to continue to keep viewers’ interest. October Gale, a somewhat weepy drama masked as a thriller, is not the model on which others should be going. With its undercooked plot and overly-sentimental back story the result is just another split-personality home invasion thriller minus the thrills.

Helen (Patricia Clarkson) returns to the cabin she and her recently deceased husband have had for years. He died a year ago in a storm on the lake that surrounds their island cabin and she returns to pack up his things. Their life together flashes back as she cleans—moments of intimacy and flirtation. She’s set to leave the cabin when her motorboat has engine trouble and she ends up stuck for a few days with only a smaller paddle boat. Her quiet cabin reverie is disrupted, however, when Will (Scott Speedman), a young man with a bullet wound in his shoulder, drags his way into her living room. She patches him up (she’s a doctor) and tries to get some answers out of him about his situation. He won’t tell her and they back and forth more than once about her wanting him gone while knowing they are on an island and with a storm brewing neither of their small boats would last.

When a local comes by to check on Helen, Will recognizes him as one of his assailants. Helen lets slip that she has an injured young man in her home and asks the man to take him to the mainland. When he bolts instead, untying her small boat, she realizes Will had reason to be scared of him. Now trapped together on the island, they anxiously await the return of Tom (Tim Roth), the man out to kill Will.

With the tone of the film split almost down the middle, director and writer Ruba Nadda (Cairo Time, also starring Clarkson) spends too much of the film focusing on Helen’s past with her husband, setting up her grief as an overwhelming element. Then she abandons this dreamy state too quickly when Will shows up with a new plot. Granted, as a savvy doctor and obviously strong-willed woman—she’s an ace with her rifle—Helen is well-prepared for the danger Will brings to her doorstep, but her interactions with Will almost negate the nostalgia so recently thrust on us. In an entirely misplaced scene she kisses Will, the confusion of her actions playing out on her face and literally mirroring the audience’s confusion as well. The implication that her grief could be overcome by some new romance—not to mention the strange fact of their age differences and whether or not Nadda intended this as some sort of statement against the usual older-male-younger-female dynamic—or that a distraction from her grief through life-threatening danger is also a good thing, all seems very naive. Her connection with her past is so overly developed that it only makes the lacking understanding of her fondness for Will more pronounced.

Clarkson and Speedman are two of those interesting Hollywood-vampire types, well-preserved and with dashing boyish/girlish type looks. Clarkson could act the heck out of an encyclopedia, her cleverness and subtlety always an engaging watch. She carries her badassness like a pro but is given very little opportunity to showcase it. Speedman is adorably likeable, almost to a fault—the hardness we’re supposed to believe around his back story just doesn’t add up in his demeanor.

Not to decry cinematographer Jeremy Benning’s work, but it’s not exactly difficult to turn on the rain machine, add some wind and make a situation seem dire. The cabin is cozy and the obvious safe haven of the film, which rather makes one wonder why so much of the film takes place inside it. Clearly the more unnerving locale would have been outside. But when it gets down to it, October Gale isn’t that harrowing at all. Tim Roth is underutilized as Will’s sadistic would-be-murderer and when his reasoning is revealed—in a highly yawn-worthy monologuing scene—any and all tension crumbles.

In some ways October Gale is a story of two people (Helen and Tom) dealing with their grief in two very different processes. But unfortunately the film forgets to draw that parallel and thereby add any level of depth. You’ll find more scares in Home Alone, not to mention more emotional connection. Clarkson and Speedman showcase both their talents, but neither can be a life vest for a film lost in its own storm.

Ava DuVernay’s Selma, about Martin Luther King Jr.’s organization of three marches from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama in 1965 (protests that led to the Voting Rights Act), was produced for about $20 million. The film was privately funded (it was picked up for distribution by Paramount following completion) and that meant DuVernay had artistic autonomy, but it also meant that she didn’t have the dough to buy the rights to King’s famous speeches. For those expecting Selma to be a biopic about a legendary leader (it’s not), this may seem like a critical omission, but the absence of the speeches ends up being one of the film’s biggest boons; this is a story not about a great man’s famous sound bites, but about a flawed man, the burdens of greatness, and the scars they left on his mind, body, and heart.

Selma‘s a focused film that covers a pivotal moment in American history (about 90 days), with no flashbacks to King’s upbringing or the march on Washington. The story’s concern is Selma, and what King did there. The pertinence of the film to the issues of today is undeniable, and is most evident in its most horrific sequence, in which we’re shown the gory results of the March 7, 1965 march. The march ends in a sickening bloodbath as we see white police officers savagely brutalize King’s protesters without mercy. While the imagery is rightly appalling and explicit, it isn’t the most disturbing thing about the film: What’s most disturbing about Selma is how relevant today, in 2015, in light of current events, the image of a white “protector” murdering an unarmed black man is. It’s been 50 years. That’s the most disturbing thing. It’s not the most interesting thing about the film, though.

What’s most interesting is that the film is a human history lesson, not a mythical one. Prolific English actor David Oyelowo takes a more grounded, sensible approach to playing King than anyone could have expected. His King is a man of intense focus and imperfect ego. Jealous. Neglectful. You expect him to channel the commanding presence and oratory prowess of King, and to be sure, on that front he delivers: He makes the speakers rumble when on the podium or pulpit, mobilizing large crowds to take a stand. It’s thrilling to watch, and he sounds just like King, and it’s all very, very impressive. But the real key to Oyelowo’s performance is when his mouth is shut; that’s when you’ll quiver.

The best scene is an uncomfortable domestic impasse. After listening to a surveillance recording that’s supposed evidence of her husband’s infidelity, Coretta King (a strong Carmen Ejogo) launches a low, slow, burning set of yes-or-no questions at King (concerning his mistresses), who looks puny sitting in a chair as she towers over him. Having Coretta impose her will by commanding her husband, one of the greatest speakers in history, to answer yes-or-no questions, is brilliant. He looks weak, and bruised. In a later scene, Coretta visits King while he’s behind bars after being arrested following a public protest. She mentions that she’s met with Malcolm X, who’s willing to give King his support. He’s hurt upon learning his wife met with his rival, and even dares to suggest that she’s infatuated. It’s these moments of sheer vulnerability, off the front lines, that honor King’s life like no history book or documentary ever could. It’s a thoughtful perspective. To truly appreciate his accomplishments, we must remember that King breathed and bled and hurt like all of us, and yet still did all the things he did. He was strong, not invincible.

In the film’s first incarnation, which was written by Paul Webb and was to be directed by Lee Daniels (who eventually passed the project up to do The Butler), the story centered heavily on King’s negotiations with President Lyndon B. Johnson. When DuVernay was brought on to direct in 2013, however, she revised the script (with Webb, who stayed on as penner), shifting its focus significantly, concentrating more on King’s organizing in Selma. LBJ is still in the movie (Tom Wilkinson plays him very well), but his presence is limited and is clearly de-emphasized from the original script. DuVernay makes it crystal clear that the President is no white savior (he’s mostly utilized as a force of opposition), though the film has come under criticism for allegedly misrepresenting LBJ’s level of cooperation with King on the Voting Rights Act.

Also in the film as government officials are Tim Roth, as AL Gov. George Wallace, and Dylan Baker, as J. Edgar Hoover. Their malevolence feels largely overplayed, and though Roth’s turns as weaselly heels are always fun, he and Baker (who’s not nearly as good) feel like they’re in a separate film. Oprah Winfrey, Common, Martin Sheen, and Cuba Gooding Jr. also play supporting roles, with Winfrey making the biggest impression as a Annie Lee Cooper, a woman fighting tooth and nail for her right to vote as an American citizen (she was also a producer on the film).

Selma is a phenomenal movie when it operates as a character study, showing us King having one-on-one conversations with different people around him, revealing layers of his personality in a nuanced, elegant way. When the film zooms out however, as in the big marching scenes or the handful of times King takes the pulpit, the film loosens its grip and becomes a less rich, less grounded affair. Whiffs of “prestige picture” arise now and again (especially near the film’s close), but Oyelowo does all he can to maintain the film’s sense of immediacy. There’s an emphasis on chronicling King’s perceptive maneuverings and strategies when orchestrating the marches, but these sections ultimately feel like detours on the more compelling, emotional journey of getting to know the man behind the scenes.

Like I mentioned earlier, we hear none of the famous speeches. DuVernay wrote new speeches in their stead, and remarkably, they sound 100% in accordance with King’s voice and philosophy. (To be fair, I’m no MLK historian, but for what it’s worth it was totally believable to me that he wrote these things.) Because they’re tailor-made, the new lectures and sermons fit into the film’s larger narrative much better than the original speeches would have, and in fact, had the original speeches made it in, they probably would have pushed the film into the realm of hagiography in earnest.

DuVernay proves that she’s a terrific director, especially when it comes to collaborating with her actors. Oyelowo, a young veteran, has his proudest outing as an actor here, and we miss him every moment he’s not on-screen. Like Steve McQueen’s 12 Years a Slave, Selma‘s cultural significance is critical and will inevitably permeate all conversations about the film. As a reviewer, I must stress that its cinematic value speaks for itself, even when you swipe away the context of today’s struggles.

In some disappointing news, Quentin Tarantino has sidelined his recently announced supposed next project (and 9th feature film), an ensemble western called The Hateful Eight, when the script was leaked. Though he hasn’t ruled out making the film in the future, it certainly won’t be his next film. Instead, Tarantino plans to publish the screenplay as a book, entering the arena of prose storytelling like he’s been hinting at doing for some time now. The influencial auteur expressed that he feels “very, very depressed” in an exclusive interview with Deadline.

“I finished a script, a first draft, and I didn’t mean to shoot it until next winter, a year from now. I gave it to six people, and apparently it’s gotten out today,” Tarantino said in the interview. Despite the leak, he says the fact that it’s reached his fans isn’t the reason he’s so upset: it’s that he feels betrayed. “I like the fact that people like my shit, that they go out of their way to find it and read it. But I gave it to six mutherfucking people!”

Those six include actors Michael Madsen, Tim Roth, and Nebraska star Bruce Dern, who Tarantino had been courting for a lead role in the picture. Tarantino suspects one of their agents leaked the script, specifically naming CAA, which reps Dern.

Though the news may come as a huge bummer for Tarantino fans (including myself), the director insists that this was the right choice to make, and that he’s got a bevy of other ideas floating around in his head, ready to come to the forefront and take the scrapped Hateful Eight‘s place. “I give it out to six people, and if I can’t trust them to that degree, then I have no desire to make it. I’ll publish it. I’m done. I’ll move on to the next thing. I’ve got 10 more where that came from.”

Nicholas Jarecki’s Arbitrage is a riveting thriller that works without being wholly original, instead it relies on a solid script backed by a fantastic lead performance by Richard Gere. Similar to what Margin Call was last year, the film is economically relevant, featuring a corrupt business leader, a ‘1%er’, who does whatever it takes to prevent his company from tanking. From the very beginning to the end, Arbitrage is gripping film that uses its runtime effectively, making the runtime fly-by.

Robert Miller (Richard Gere) is a high profile CEO of Miller Capital. The opening sequence has him landing from his corporate jet and entering his luxury penthouse. A bellhop greets him with presents for the children that accompany his birthday party, which he pretends to be surprised about. Even though Robert is a CEO, he is a very likeable guy, one that you proudly stand behind when working underneath him. We find out that his daughter, Brooke Miller (Brit Marling), works as the Chief Financial Officer for the company and that her father had just decided to sell the company earlier that day. She playfully, but with a serious tone, asks him why he would want to sell a company that is doing so well. He brushes it off as just being at a point in his life where he is ready to let go of the company, but there is a strong sense of an ulterior motive.

Robert leaves his birthday party telling his wife, Ellen Miller (Susan Sarandon) that he needs to go to his office to finish up some of the paper work. He enters his limo but his destination is not his office. Instead he visits the residence of a woman who he clearly has an attachment with. The two exchange a few words then passionately begin to make love. He is a charmer who hides behind his friendly smile to live a double life.

Things take a drastic turn when Robert and his mistress (Laetitia Casta) are on their way out of the city one night. Robert falls asleep behind the wheel and crashes into the median causing the vehicle to flip. He walks away with just a few scratches, but unfortunately his mistress is dead in the passenger seat. Naturally, his first instinct is to call 911, but he refrains from doing so after thinking about what the implications would be for both his career and personal life.

The script in Arbitrage is sharp and concise, nearly to a fault. Most of the supporting characters were not developed because of the film’s concentration of the main plot. Supporting characters have heavily implied backstories, but the film never went beyond the surface on any of them. So I appreciated the script for the most part but having such a tight focus does have its trade-offs.

Having said that about the supporting characters, Marling was alright but did not have a particularly memorable role. Susan Sarandon laid low for most of the film, until the very end where she made a grand finale performance. But the true star of the film is of course Richard Gere (the role felt written for him though apparently it was originally for Al Pacino). Gere delivers a performance that may be his best to date, or at the very least, the best in a long while. He is a flawed character but one you find yourself rooting for even though you probably should not be.

Arbitrage is not a terribly original story, a prolific man gets into trouble and attempts to sweep it all under the rug while seeking pity from both his family and the audience, but it is one that is well crafted. It is an effective thriller with some minor faults that act more like speed bumps than showstoppers. Arbitrage is a pleasure to watch and keeps you entertained the whole way through.

Michael Haneke’s Funny Games is a shot by shot and line by line remake of his own 1997 film of the same title only with a different cast and with English dialog instead of German. Even the set of the house had the exact same proportions as the original house did. You might ask why a director would choose to remake his own film? If I had to guess it would be that many Americans skipped the original version because we shamefully tend to avoid subtitles. It is a mentally exhausting art house thriller about strangers abusing a family but after watching it you feel like you are the one being abused.

Funny Games begins with a family taking a trip to their vacation home on Long Island. As George (Tim Roth) and Ann (Naomi Watts) and their son Georgie (Devon Gearhart) approached the house they stop by the neighbors place to see if they will lend a hand to launch their boat. They noticed that the neighbors were acting a bit out of the ordinary as they hesitated to help. Also the husband and wife did not recognize the other men dressed in white that accompanied the neighbors but it was only enough to notice and not be alarmed.

The neighbor comes over as promised but brings along a gentleman named Paul (Michael Pitt) who he claims is the son of a business associate of the neighbor. George still found the behavior of the neighbor to be a little off. As Ann is preparing dinner for the family the two men dressed in white show up at the door. Paul introduces himself as well as his friend Peter (Brady Corbet) even he keeps addressing him as Tom and eventually fatty.

Although the two men are very polite you get the sense that something is very off about them. This begins to show when they ask to test out one of George’s golf clubs. Ann is very put off by them and asks them to leave. That is when the games begin but none of them are funny.

Paul and Peter being to terrorize the family with ridiculous games such as making a bet with them that they will all be dead by morning as long as the family bets they will be alive. It is during this bet that something profound happens. Paul turns to the camera and begins to talk to us to see which side of the bet we are on. It is important because it blatantly tells the audience that this film is playing games with them as well.

Without giving away any more spoilers, I will try to be vague as possible on this topic. There is a scene near the end of the film that is very controversial that will have you either cheering or booing. By the end of the film you realize that the film tries to find out the difference between reality and non-reality.

Michael Haneke was quoted saying “Anyone who leaves the cinema doesn’t need the film, and anybody who stays does.” on his original version of Funny Games. The opening credits makes it clear that what you think you are in store for is not what you will find when the classical music is abruptly interrupted by loud death metal music. After finishing the film I can understand what Haneke was trying to say, it is definitely not for everyone. Drawing some comparisons to Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange is easy to do based on the perverse violence that resides in both.

The performances from the whole cast were astounding. Naomi Watts is particularly good as the frantic wife whose family is being terrorized. Tim Roth compliments Watts well and lets her do most of the heavy lifting. One interesting note is that Roth said that his role abused him enough that he will never watch the film. Michael Pitt is downright creepy and unsettling as the main villain.

Funny Games is as unique as it is distributing, both which the film strived for and succeed in. I appreciated the film more than I enjoyed it. However, I am not sure if the film was even meant to be enjoyed but rather experienced instead. From the opening to closing credits the film plays games with you and eventually you realize that the actual villain is the director and you are the victim. You will not find one shred of comfort in Funny Games but that is the point.