David Fincher's third movie is a reality conundrum gone into
overdrive. Michael Douglas is in middle-aged crisis, haunted by his
father's suicide. His brother, Sean Penn, gives him The Game as a
birthday present, setting off a chain of events increasingly bizarre,
confusing and nasty. Amusing and clever, The Game nonetheless lacks
the tension or flourish of Se7en, but Douglas is an expert at the
frustrated alpha male in crisis. Fincher dishes up enough lovely
camera angles and a crackerjack finale, but the film allows a little too
much second-guessing, frustrating the audience's engagement.
