The Game (1997) is a 90s noir thriller that Hitchcock would have loved. Hitchcock’s characteristic undertones and overtones are alive and active in this film’s dangerous shadows, complete with a blonde femme fatale and the haunting of a lone man paying recompense for reasons he’s doesn’t understand. The film’s director, David Fincher (Seven, Fight Club), obviously studied the great master’s films, learning when to zoom in on his character for psychological build-up and when to hold back to let suspense consume the scene. Fincher also knows how to pull the scales from his character’s eyes, revealing a world darker than Nicholas assumed and completely out of his control. Fincher’s Game is a technical marvel and makes up for the minimal plot holes in the screenplay with a deft hand for directing characters and creating suspense.

At the beginning of the film, Nicholas Van Orton turns forty-eight, the same age at which the divorced millionaire’s father committed suicide. Nicholas is steely, calculating and extremely successful in his scrooge-like ability to alienate everyone and everything from him except cold hard cash. He lives in the same mansion his father lept from, and doesn’t care to do much else but thrive in his solitude. Michael Douglas masterfully renders this character in what is arguably one of his finest roles.

Because it’s Nicholas’ birthday, his formally drug-addicted brother, Conrad, surprises him with a lunch rendezvous under the name Seemore Butts. With minimal screen time, Sean Penn brings this character to life with a nervy, pulsating energy. “Connie” gives him a card to Consumer Recreational Services (CRS) and tells him to call, reassuring Nicholas that the experience will change his life. Shortly after his brother tries to hook him, Nicholas overhears two men discussing CRS at one of his clubs. He asks exactly what CRS is. One man responds by quoting John 9:25: “Whereas once I was blind, now I can see.”

Nicholas takes the bait, and The Game begins.

At first, it is a guilty pleasure watching this man who has everything begin to lose control. Eventually, however, Douglas makes us consider the larger implications of this character’s situation, a fantastic scenario in which he seems to be losing not only control over his property and finances, but his very life. The question is whether this is actually a good thing or not.

For this question, another verse. John 12:25. “The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”

To say more would be a shame. I don’t want to give you too much control over how you approach the film. I will say, however, that it will leave you guessing as to the final destination of its serpentine plot. This Game isn’t a simple play: it’s a revelation.