House of Games is a wonderful movie at multiple levels. It is a fine mystery and a shocking thriller. It is blessed with marvelous performances by Lindsay Crouse and Joe Montegna, and a strong, strong cast of supporting players, and it introduces Ricky Jay, card sharp extraordinaire, prestidigitator and historian of magic. Its dialogue, written by David Mamet, is spoken as if in a play of manners and gives the movie (in which reality is often in question) an extra dimension of unrealness.<br /><br />On the face of it, House of Games is a convincing glimpse into the unknown world of cheats and con men, diametrically different from The Sting, which was played merely for glamour and yuks. At this level it does succeed admirably.<br /><br />However, you cannot escape the examination at a deeper level of the odyssey of a woman from complacent professional competence to incredible strength and self realization. The only movie I know of which treats the theme of emergence of personal strength in a woman in as worthy a way is the underrated Private Benjamin. That thoroughly enjoyable movie unfortunately diffuses its focus, hopping among several themes and exploiting the fine performance of Goldie Hawn to chase after some easy laughs. House of Games sticks to its business. As Poe once said of a good short story, it drives relentlessly to its conclusion.<br /><br />There is another strain of movies-about-women, epitomized by Thelma and Louise, a big budget commercial money maker with the despicable theme that women are doomed, whether or not they realize their inner strengths. What tripe.<br /><br />As usual you really ought to see this film in a movie theater. It should be a natural for film festivals. Nominate it for one near you if you get the chance.<br /><br />I bought the original version of House of Games and gave it to my 23 year old daughter. Better she should see it on a TV than not at all.