Desperate to take care of his pregnant wife before a terminal illness can take his life, Dodge Tynes accepts an offer to participate in a deadly game where he soon discovers that he's not th Read all Desperate to take care of his pregnant wife before a terminal illness can take his life, Dodge Tynes accepts an offer to participate in a deadly game where he soon discovers that he's not the hunter - but the prey.
Desperate to take care of his pregnant wife before a terminal illness can take his life, Dodge Tynes accepts an offer to participate in a deadly game where he soon discovers that he's not the hunter - but the prey. Dodge Tynes : When does it start? Miles Sellars : It just did. Sign In. Episode guide. Play trailer Action Thriller. See more at IMDbPro.
Episodes Browse episodes. Top Top-rated. Clip Most Dangerous Game. Trailer Official Trailer. Learn More. Most Dangerous Game: Official Trailer 2. Most Dangerous Game: Season 1. Photos Top cast Edit. Sarah Gadon Val as Val. Zach Cherry Looger as Looger. Instinct is no match for reason. When I thought of this it was a tragic moment for me, I can tell you. The general smiled the quiet smile of one who has faced an obstacle and surmounted it with success.
You're joking. I needed a new animal. I found one. So I bought this island built this house, and here I do my hunting. The island is perfect for my purposes--there are jungles with a maze of traits in them, hills, swamps--". No other hunting compares with it for an instant. Every day I hunt, and I never grow bored now, for I have a quarry with which I can match my wits. The general laughed with entire good nature. He regarded Rainsford quizzically. Surely your experiences in the war--".
Laughter shook the general. It's like finding a snuffbox in a limousine. Ah, well, doubtless you had Puritan ancestors. So many Americans appear to have had. I'll wager you'll forget your notions when you go hunting with me. You've a genuine new thrill in store for you, Mr. But I think I can show you that your scruples are quite ill founded.
The weak of the world were put here to give the strong pleasure. I am strong. Why should I not use my gift? If I wish to hunt, why should I not? I hunt the scum of the earth: sailors from tramp ships--lassars, blacks, Chinese, whites, mongrels--a thoroughbred horse or hound is worth more than a score of them.
It gives me pleasure. They can reason, after a fashion. So they are dangerous. The general's left eyelid fluttered down in a wink. Sometimes, when Providence is not so kind, I help Providence a bit. Come to the window with me. Out there! Rainsford's eyes saw only blackness, and then, as the general pressed a button, far out to sea Rainsford saw the flash of lights. The general chuckled. They can crush a ship as easily as I crush this nut. We try to be civilized here.
A trace of anger was in the general's black eyes, but it was there for but a second; and he said, in his most pleasant manner, "Dear me, what a righteous young man you are! I assure you I do not do the thing you suggest. That would be barbarous. I treat these visitors with every consideration. They get plenty of good food and exercise. They get into splendid physical condition. You shall see for yourself tomorrow. I have about a dozen pupils down there now.
They're from the Spanish bark San Lucar that had the bad luck to go on the rocks out there. A very inferior lot, I regret to say.
Poor specimens and more accustomed to the deck than to the jungle. Rainsford, with an effort, held his tongue in check. I give him a supply of food and an excellent hunting knife. I give him three hours' start. I am to follow, armed only with a pistol of the smallest caliber and range. If my quarry eludes me for three whole days, he wins the game. If I find him "--the general smiled--" he loses. He need not play that game if he doesn't wish to.
If he does not wish to hunt, I turn him over to Ivan. Ivan once had the honor of serving as official knouter to the Great White Czar, and he has his own ideas of sport. Invariably, Mr. Rainsford, invariably they choose the hunt. The smile on the general's face widened. Then he added, hastily: "I don't wish you to think me a braggart, Mr. Many of them afford only the most elementary sort of problem. Occasionally I strike a tartar. One almost did win. I eventually had to use the dogs.
The general steered Rainsford to a window. The lights from the windows sent a flickering illumination that made grotesque patterns on the courtyard below, and Rainsford could see moving about there a dozen or so huge black shapes; as they turned toward him, their eyes glittered greenly.
If anyone should try to get into my house--or out of it--something extremely regrettable would occur to him. Will you come with me to the library?
I'm really not feeling well. You need a good, restful night's sleep. Tomorrow you'll feel like a new man, I'll wager. Then we'll hunt, eh? I've one rather promising prospect--" Rainsford was hurrying from the room. He looks resourceful--Well, good night, Mr. Rainsford; I hope you have a good night's rest. The bed was good, and the pajamas of the softest silk, and he was tired in every fiber of his being, but nevertheless Rainsford could not quiet his brain with the opiate of sleep.
He lay, eyes wide open. Once he thought he heard stealthy steps in the corridor outside his room. He sought to throw open the door; it would not open. He went to the window and looked out.
His room was high up in one of the towers. The lights of the chateau were out now, and it was dark and silent; but there was a fragment of sallow moon, and by its wan light he could see, dimly, the courtyard.
There, weaving in and out in the pattern of shadow, were black, noiseless forms; the hounds heard him at the window and looked up, expectantly, with their green eyes. Rainsford went back to the bed and lay down. By many methods he tried to put himself to sleep. He had achieved a doze when, just as morning began to come, he heard, far off in the jungle, the faint report of a pistol. General Zaroff did not appear until luncheon.
He was dressed faultlessly in the tweeds of a country squire. He was solicitous about the state of Rainsford's health. I am worried, Mr. Last night I detected traces of my old complaint. Then, taking a second helping of crepes Suzette, the general explained: "The hunting was not good last night. The fellow lost his head. He made a straight trail that offered no problems at all.
That's the trouble with these sailors; they have dull brains to begin with, and they do not know how to get about in the woods. They do excessively stupid and obvious things. It's most annoying. Will you have another glass of Chablis, Mr. The general raised his thickets of eyebrows; he seemed hurt. You've had no hunting--".
He saw the dead black eyes of the general on him, studying him. General Zaroff's face suddenly brightened. The general shrugged his shoulders and delicately ate a hothouse grape. But may I not venture to suggest that you will find my idea of sport more diverting than Ivan's? He nodded toward the corner to where the giant stood, scowling, his thick arms crossed on his hogshead of chest. This is really an inspiration. I drink to a foeman worthy of my steel--at last. Your woodcraft against mine.
Your strength and stamina against mine. Outdoor chess! And the stake is not without value, eh? Of course you, in turn, must agree to say nothing of your visit here. Three days hence we can discuss it over a bottle of Veuve Cliquot, unless--".
Then a businesslike air animated him. I suggest you wear moccasins; they leave a poorer trail. I suggest, too, that you avoid the big swamp in the southeast corner of the island. We call it Death Swamp. There's quicksand there. One foolish fellow tried it. The deplorable part of it was that Lazarus followed him. You can imagine my feelings, Mr. I loved Lazarus; he was the finest hound in my pack.
Well, I must beg you to excuse me now. I always take a siesta after lunch. You'll hardly have time for a nap, I fear. You'll want to start, no doubt. I shall not follow till dusk. Hunting at night is so much more exciting than by day, don't you think? Au revoir, Mr. Rainsford, au revoir. From another door came Ivan. Under one arm he carried khaki hunting clothes, a haversack of food, a leather sheath containing a long-bladed hunting knife; his right hand rested on a cocked revolver thrust in the crimson sash about his waist.
Rainsford had fought his way through the bush for two hours. I must keep my nerve," he said through tight teeth. He had not been entirely clearheaded when the chateau gates snapped shut behind him. His whole idea at first was to put distance between himself and General Zaroff; and, to this end, he had plunged along, spurred on by the sharp rowers of something very like panic. Now he had got a grip on himself, had stopped, and was taking stock of himself and the situation. He saw that straight flight was futile; inevitably it would bring him face to face with the sea.
He was in a picture with a frame of water, and his operations, clearly, must take place within that frame. He executed a series of intricate loops; he doubled on his trail again and again, recalling all the lore of the fox hunt, and all the dodges of the fox.
Night found him leg-weary, with hands and face lashed by the branches, on a thickly wooded ridge. He knew it would be insane to blunder on through the dark, even if he had the strength.
His need for rest was imperative and he thought, "I have played the fox, now I must play the cat of the fable. Rest brought him new confidence and almost a feeling of security. Even so zealous a hunter as General Zaroff could not trace him there, he told himself; only the devil himself could follow that complicated trail through the jungle after dark.
But perhaps the general was a devil An apprehensive night crawled slowly by like a wounded snake and sleep did not visit Rainsford, although the silence of a dead world was on the jungle. Toward morning when a dingy gray was varnishing the sky, the cry of some startled bird focused Rainsford's attention in that direction. Something was coming through the bush, coming slowly, carefully, coming by the same winding way Rainsford had come.
He flattened himself down on the limb and, through a screen of leaves almost as thick as tapestry, he watched. That which was approaching was a man. It was General Zaroff. He made his way along with his eyes fixed in utmost concentration on the ground before him. He paused, almost beneath the tree, dropped to his knees and studied the ground. Rainsford's impulse was to hurl himself down like a panther, but he saw that the general's right hand held something metallic--a small automatic pistol.
The hunter shook his head several times, as if he were puzzled. Then he straightened up and took from his case one of his black cigarettes; its pungent incenselike smoke floated up to Rainsford's nostrils. Bill Sondheim and Randy Charach are executive producers. The celebrated short story of the same name was published in and written by Richard Connell while the original film was released in and starred Joel Mcrea and Leslie Banks.
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