Dangerous Game (Blu-ray Review)

  • Reviewed by: Stephen Bjork
  • Review Date: Jul 11, 2024
  • Format: Blu-ray Disc
  • Bookmark and Share
Dangerous Game (Blu-ray Review)

Director

Abel Ferrara

Release Date(s)

1993 (May 28, 2024)

Studio(s)

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (Cinématographe/Vinegar Syndrome)
  • Film/Program Grade: B
  • Video Grade: A-
  • Audio Grade: B+
  • Extras Grade: B+

Review

Since the earliest days of the cinema, filmmakers have been exploring the medium on a metatextual level, blurring the lines between illusion and reality. Buster Keaton did it from the audience’s perspective in Sherlock Jr. in 1924, playing a projectionist who ends up breaking the fourth wall of the movies in his theatre and becoming an unwitting participant in them. What Price Hollywood? and its remake(s) A Star Is Born took a look at the perilous world of motion picture stardom from a more straightforward narrative perspective, but the lines were somewhat blurred again with Singin’ in the Rain. That examined the early days of talkies by showcasing a film that was being made within the film, presenting a romanticized view of the evolving filmmaking process. The lines between the two were still relatively clear in that case, but a few years later, Frederico Fellini would smudge them beyond recognition in . In Fellini’s masterpiece, the film within the film was arguably the film itself, which took the self-reflexive nature of metatextuality to another level entirely. It returned the developing subgenre of films about filmmaking to the illusion vs. reality nature of Sherlock Jr., and films like The Stunt Man followed suit, presenting everything from the first-person perspective of a shellshocked Vietnam vet who can’t tell the difference between the two.

Yet in all of those cases, the lines between illusion and reality are still perfectly clear as far as the actual filmmakers themselves are concerned. They’re still just films that present a fictional reality operating in multiple layers. It took a genuine radical like Abel Ferrara to move things up another level by not just blurring the lines between a film and the film within it, but by also blurring the lines between the film and the filmmakers who made it. There’s illusion vs. reality, and then there’s Ferrara’s Dangerous Game, a genuinely dangerous film from one of cinema’s most dangerous filmmakers. It’s not necessarily autobiographical in terms of personal detail like Ferrara’s Tomasso would prove to be a few decades later, but it still exposes the real Abel Ferrara by putting his entire process on display for all the world to see. Or for his most devoted fans to see, anyway, since Dangerous Game ended up barely even getting a theatrical release despite the fact that it starred Madonna at a point where that still should have meant something in terms of box office. It’s a fictional film that was far too raw and honest to ever find success with mainstream audiences that prefer their illusions to fit inside neat, easily-defined boxes.

Dangerous Game follows director Eddie Israel (Harvey Keitel) while he’s shooting his new film Mother of Mirrors, a story about the toxic relationship an unemployed businessman Russell and his newly-religious wife Claire. Russell is being played by Francis Burns (James Russo) while Claire is being played by Sarah Jennings (Madonna), and since Eddie is willing to do whatever he needs to do in order to get the performances that he wants, he exploits the animosity between Francis and Sarah as a way of bringing authenticity to their relationship in his film. He also encourages Francis to use his own struggles with addiction to portray the addict Russell, and he behaves abusively toward Sarah to break her down emotionally to portray Claire. That’s despite the fact that he’s having an affair with her, and when his own wife Nancy (Nancy Ferrara) shows up unexpectedly on the set, things start to spiral out of control for everyone, leading to a perhaps inevitable but still ambiguous ending.

Dangerous Game began life as a screenplay called Snake Eyes, written by Ferrara’s long-time collaborator Nicholas St. John. By the time that the film finally reached a handful of screens in 1993, it had taken on a life of its own, and a new title as well. (That was thanks to adult filmmaker Cecil Howard, who claimed that he owned the rights to the title Snake Eyes). Yet the new title fits the film perfectly. Ferrara has always encouraged improvisation, and been willing to exploit method actors in his own way (just like he had done with Keitel on Bad Lieutenant). He made that process a part of Dangerous Game by shooting the rehearsals between the real actors and incorporating the footage into the final film as rehearsals between Eddie, Francis, and Sarah. He also raised method acting to the next level by letting Eddie serve as a method director; Ferrara sometimes gave direction to Keitel only, and then let Keitel direct the other actors in-character as Eddie. As a result, St. John’s film about making a film became a film about the process of making a film about making a film, with the lines between the layers not just blurred but partly erased.

Dangerous Game explores the fact that while art of acting is all about illusion, the way that some actors achieve those illusions is by making things all too real for themselves. If Bad Lieutenant was about the dissolution of a cop who blurs the lines between himself and the criminals that he’s supposed to be policing, Dangerous Game is about the dissolution of a group of actors and filmmakers who forget that they need to maintain a line between themselves and their characters in order to retain their humanity. Francis complains that Sarah can’t act, yet he’s incapable of maintaining a performance without doing everything for real. He has to get drunk to play a drunk, and in the most harrowing scene in Dangerous Game, he can’t simulate a sexual assault without doing it for real. In a similar way, Eddie can’t make a film about a relationship that’s falling apart without letting his own marriage fall apart in the process. Blurring the lines between illusion and reality may make for a more powerful film, but it’s always at great personal cost.

All of that leads to an ambiguous ending where one character appears to kill another character. Yet which character is killing which character, the ones in the film, or the ones in the film within the film? Ferrara never answers that question, because the whole point of Dangerous Game is that the lines between the layers have been erased to such an extent that the answer doesn’t really matter. The experience also takes its toll on Eddie, who ends up being driven to suicidal despair, yet his own fate also remains ambiguous at the end. Ferrara has been open about his self-destructive experiences with addiction on set, but he also says that he’s never felt that kind of despair no matter how challenging that any given film may have been. That’s probably true, because Ferrara has always been painfully honest. Yet it’s hard not to read that honesty into the ending of Dangerous Game, with Ferrara perhaps not showing one of his own actual experiences, but instead acknowledging the simple truth that he’s been playing with fire the whole time. Filmmaking can be a dangerous business on an emotional level, and that’s the heart of the gamesmanship behind Dangerous Game.

Cinematographer Ken Kelsch shot Dangerous Game on 35mm film using Panavision cameras with spherical lenses. Video footage was captured on standard definition tape and then transferred to 35mm film during post-production. This version is based on a 4K scan of the uncut original camera negative, with digital restoration work supervised by Ryan Emerson at Vinegar Syndrome. It’s presented here in 1080p, framed at the theatrical aspect ratio of 1.85:1 (although the film largely went straight to video, so most viewers at the time ended up seeing it open-matte). This is the unrated version of the film, and in deference to Ferrara’s intentions, Vinegar Syndrome has elected not to include the censored R-rated theatrical cut as well. The video sequences aside (as well as any optical work such as titles), everything is sharp, clean and detailed, with moderate levels of grain—and the authoring by Marcus Johnson keeps it free of noise or any other compression artifacts. The contrast range is solid, and the colors look accurate. While ardent fans of Dangerous Game may be disappointed in the lack of a 4K release, between the video sequences and the intentionally drab, muted color scheme in the film, it looks just fine in 1080p.

Audio is offered in English 2.0 DTS-HD Master Audio, with optional English subtitles. Dangerous Game was released in Dolby Stereo, and this appears to be the theatrical four-channel mix with matrix encoded surrounds. There are some light ambient effects in the surrounds such as street noises outside or reverberations on the film set, but Dangerous Game is a largely dialogue-centered film, and that’s always clear and balanced. Even the subtle score by Joe Delia plays second fiddle to it. It’s a straightforward rendition of a straightforward mix.

Vinegar Syndrome’s Blu-ray release of Dangerous Game is part of their Cinématographe sub-label, and is currently available in a Limited Edition of 6,000 copies. The disc itself is contained in a simple but striking clothbound Mediabook with essays by Samm Deighan, Carlos Valladares, and Peter Labuza. The Mediabook is housed in a J-card slipcase with a ribbon to help remove the book (a nice touch). The new artwork is by Luke Insect, and the overall package design was by Haunt Love. The following extras are included, all of them in HD:

  • Audio Commentary with Chris O’Neill and Bill Ackerman
  • Wins the Prize (19:08)
  • Doing This or What (12:14)
  • Interview with Nancy Ferrara (24:44)
  • Punctuation & Underscoring (16:54)
  • Under a Rock (20:13)
  • Abel Ferrara’s Game of Mirrors (15:00)
  • Theatrical Trailer (1:28)

The commentary features Bill Ackerman of the Supporting Characters podcast paired with filmmaker and programmer Chris O’Neill. They explain how Dangerous Game evolved from Nicholas St. John’s original Snake Eyes script through various assembly cuts and revisions, with much of the final film being improvised, including the fact that Ferrara directed Keitel to direct the other actors in character as Eddie. (They point out that you can still see a slate with the Snake Eyes title and Ferrara’s name on it in the final cut.) They cover many of Ferrara’s other collaborators on the film, like cinematographer Ken Kelsch (who died shortly before they recorded the commentary), and also discuss how Dangerous Game fits into that stage of Harvey Keitel’s career. Ackerman and O’Neill draw a distinction between the authenticity of the New York setting in Ferrara’s east coast films, and the artificiality of the Los Angeles setting of west coast films like Dangerous Game. They close by offering their views about the ambiguous ending (which also diverged from the script).

With the exception of a video essay, the rest of the extras consist of interviews. Wins the Prize is with Ferrara, who explains up front that he’s still heartbroken over the recent death of Ken Kelsch, and spends much of his time reminiscing about his occasionally combative working relationship with the cinematographer. Interestingly enough, as much as Ferrara can be a bit opaque and discursive in interviews, his feelings about Kelsch keeps him quite candid and focused this time around. He praises Madonna’s performance, and even when he mentions the fact that she badmouthed the film before its release, he admits that it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. (His story about setting an unexpected record at one theatre is worth the price of admission.)

The next two interviews are with cast members—or at least the ones who were wiling to talk about the film, anyway. Doing This or What is with James Russo, who explains his own off-again, on-again relationship with Ferrara, and how it was strange to essentially be taking direction from both Ferrara and Keitel at the same time. He also offers praise for Madonna’s performance, and says that she worked really hard on the film. The Interview with Nancy Ferrara is with, well, Nancy Ferrara—strange that she’s the only one on the disc whose interview wasn’t given a title. (Unlike the others, hers is audio-only, so that may be why.) She describes her own on-again, off-again relationship with Ferrara; as of the time of the interview, they were still married, but separated. She hadn’t seen Dangerous Game in ages since she hates seeing herself on screen, but she still provides her own perspective on making it (although her memory is a bit shaky).

The last two interviews are with crew members. Punctuation & Underscoring is with Joe Delia, who talks about Ferrara’s challenges in getting the film made, and explains his process in scoring. He says that the film always lets him know how much score is needed, but that Ferrara will never use music in order to make a scene “better”—the scene has to drive the music, not the other way around. Under a Rock is with editor Anthony Redman, who talks about his background with Ferrara and the complicated process of cutting Dangerous Game—including his own cameo. The film that they made isn’t the one that was in the script, and it definitely isn’t the one that Madonna thought that they were making, but that’s just the way that they all worked.

Finally, Abel Ferrara’s Game of Mirrors is a video essay by Alexandra Heller-Nicolas, who examines the mirror motifs in Dangerous Game—both literal and metaphorical. Even the title of the film-within-the-film, Mother of Mirrors, is a clue to the mirrored layers going on. Yet she notes that there is more than just the one film within the film, since the video rehearsal footage becomes a fictional making-of documentary of its own. Dangerous Game blurs the lines between the different kind of filmic realities that it represents, making it harder and harder for viewers to determine what level that it’s really operating at. While Dangerous Game has been somewhat overlooked in Ferrara’s filmography, she feels that the film is the work of a director at the top of his game, and it’s time for the world to catch up.

This Vinegar Syndrome Blu-ray release is undoubtedly the best way to do that catching up, since no previous home video releases of Dangerous Game have offered any extras whatsoever aside from the trailer. It is missing the R-rated theatrical cut, however, so if that’s important to you, you’ll have to track down a copy of the old Olive Films Blu-ray as well. Yet this uncut version of the film is the way that it was intended to be seen, so the theatrical cut is mostly a curio at this point, and the nice slate of extras is the icing on the cake. It’s another great release of a neglected American film from Cinématographe.

- Stephen Bjork

(You can follow Stephen on social media at these links: Twitter, Facebook, and Letterboxd).