Cinema
On the run
Peter Ackroyd
The Prize of Peril (`18', selected cinemas)
This is the story of those who lose their lives for the greater glory of a 'game show% a young man is pursued by a group of murderous hunters as all around him the television cameras close in. If he escapes, he wins one million dollars; if he loses, his Widow will make a brief, tearful appearance in order to collect her consolation prize. This is in fact what happens — 'And yet, dear audience, we all had such high hopes.' It is in many ways a familiar spectacle, and not simply because other films have used future. 'game shows' as images of a possible J'Inure. One has only to look at recent apanese television programmes, in which ntestants are systematically humiliated dand physically abused, to realise that the efinition of a 'game' is a somewhat loose ne. Even our comparatively modest essays wh 1.he same genre, with programmes during Which members of the public are invited to Perform dangerous tasks, share a similar Preoccupation. Although the audience are suPPosed to be admiring the skill or courage involved, the possibility of an acci- dent is the real attraction; the most in- teresting aspect of ice-skating, for example, is the sudden fall and this is the sequence which is repeated in 'slow motion' after- wards.
And so The Prize of Peril is not without
plausibility, however fitfully it develops its theme. This is a French film (one of the few which has forgotten to include Gerard Depardieu), and yet the 'game show' is so universal a phenomenon that it could have been made anywhere. The 'host', played by Michel Piccoli, wears a toupee and can in similar fashion hide catastrophe with an ap- propriate banality. His characteristics are instantly recognisable: the smile so perma- nent that it must be the product of taxider- my, the jaunty walk, the false good humour. Such people have been abused in many films of this kind — no doubt because, like the miser or misanthrope of previous drama, they are seen dimly to em- body those qualities in our culture of which we most disapprove. The television format itself, in which large amounts of money can be won by a combination of luck and modest skill, resembles a child's drawing of capitalism — although it is not without its pathetic aspect in this film, as impoverished or unemployed contestants seek to change their lives even at the potential cost of los- ing them. 'Some people have everything,' one of them explains. 'Why not us?'
If all this seems excessively theoretical, you must blame the film which, in characteristically French fashion, raises such issues within a melodramatic context. The plot is simple enough: another young contestant is found to risk everything for the great prize but, from the moment when in front of the camera he shakes hands with those who are about to pursue and kill him, it is clear that the game has been fixed in ad- vance. He is chased through the streets of Paris, and rescued at opportune moments by members of the production team so that all the advertisements can be shown before he is finally killed. He is shot in the shoulder, and then breaks 'the rules' by at- tacking his own pursuers, while all around him the cameras transmit the pictures 'live'. These scenes are not so different, in fact, from those shown on the television news although we tend to dignify such spectacles of violence and murder under the name of `information'. There are those in the film, of course, who are shown to disapprove of this exploitation but, as the producer of the programme explains to the French minister responsible, 'As long as people are watching they aren't agitating.' Since The Prize of Peril is in this sense an assault upon the nature of television itself, it was perhaps ap- propriate that the television advertisements include one for 'Total Tourism' as well as one soliciting contributions for a 'Third World' charity (complete with pictures of starving children, of course).
What we have here, in other words, is another analysis of 'the society of the spec- tacle' in which our experiences and sen- timents are controlled by a small handful of men and women who stay literally behind the scenes. It is by no means a novel theory, and its simplicity is another measure of the generally sensationalist nature of this film. Despite its apparent 'expose' of the use of violence, it is itself a most violent film in which chasing, running, falling and killing are the essential elements, In fact when it concentrates upon the pursuit itself, it exer- cises a fascination no different from the programmes which it parodies: will he win or lose? but when the larger, or at least more nebulous, issues are raised the narrative slackens. By relying upon a single theme, to the exclusion of all else, it does not in the end avoid monotony or obviousness.
It is truth universally acknowledged, however, that watching a mediocre film is a less unpleasant experience than sitting through a mediocre play. The making of any film is so collaborative a venture that someone's expertise, whether it be that of the editor or cinematographer, is always on display. But, in the case of The Prize of Peril, it is really only the story itself which redeems the rather jaded attack upon con- sumerism. The acting is competent but uninspired, and the direction is marked by a stolidity which does less than justice even to those performances. But at least the ending was interesting: as the 'host' is ritually humiliated, and the programme revealed to be fraudulent, the studio audience go wild with anger. But the producer hardly cares: 'They think they are doing something about justice,' he explains, since he knows that even these displays of righteous indignation and populist anger are themselves part of the greater game.