I’m gonna be frank, what I expected was not what I got. That’s not to suggest that what I got was bad, because I did enjoy this film, and most importantly it didn’t leave me angry, which is an unusal turnaround of events.
Everyone pretty much jizzes their pants whenever you talk about Michael Haneke. I’ve sat through endless conversations with film grads, excitedly discussing how profound Haneke’s work is; how his subtle social commentary and take on violence is “unbelievably thought provoking”, how his meticulous and flawless filmmaking practices will haunt you for months, and so forth and so forth.
In particular I have heard time and time again that Funny Games would be the most ‘disturbing’ and ‘intelligent’ thing I was ever going to see in my adult life, that it was literally so mind-blowing that he was forced to make it twice, in two different langues, ten years apart, shot by shot.
So I watched it. In both languages.
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Gareth is the sort of person I would pathologically hate in the normal world, let alone a world where pretty much everyone else is dead. He probably worked in “new media” or some other type of pointless self indulgent non-job and thinks he’s knows EVERYTHING. I personally would’ve shot him on sight based on his greeting alone. Even the governor had more charisma then this douchbag.
Let’s be frank, would you trust a dude called Gareth? Starbucks drinking, Maroon 5 listening, cargo pant wearing guys like Gareth are the real monsters in society, not the zombies, not the rednecks, not even the governor. Gareth is why I’d rather die, or hermit myself in an outbreak, because FUCK living with THAT for the rest of my short existence. He’s sarcastic, shady, he talks WAY too much for someone who should be mourning the death of pretty much everyone he knows….oh and he eats people.
So now we know that as a human race, in case we ever do get a virus which turns us all into reanimated corpses, it’s not the zombies we should fear…
“You here to rob us?” he passive aggressively asks. “You’re nervous I get it” throws his hands up condescendingly “we were all the same way!” Actually, no Gareth they’re not nervous, they just don’t fucking trust you. They neither trust you, nor those quiet people in the background looking at spreadsheets and aren’t introducing themselves. And what the hell are they doing may I ask??
Then Alex pops his head round, who’s even worse. Apparently he’s the terminus designated tour guide. Alex also looks like someone who possibly designed a pointless app. Together they look like a “cool” gap commercial. The faux cheery exterior is tres suspicious. Anyone builds a “welcome wagon” during the apocalypse is clearly a psychopath. It’s not the UCL open day. Thankfully our four Musketeers know what time it is, Michonne and Rick exchange that “hell no” look, and even young Carl has “dafuq” written all over his face.
See? these guys are smart. The love struck idiots, including the ‘genius’ (yea Eugene I’m talking to YOU) just walked straight in, looking at the sunflowers being all like “yea the gates are unlocked, this is totally legit yo”.
Whilst Mary is still there grilling.
Grilling Beth. Poor Beth