SAW XII: The Penalty Game is a fiendishly clever, psychologically gruesome, and unexpectedly profound entry that reinvigorates the franchise by trapping its most iconic prey yet: not sinners in the abstract, but modern gods of sport. The genius of this premise lies not in the mere novelty of casting Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi, but in the devastatingly apt philosophical lens it applies to them. John Kramer’s ghostly, tape-recorded presence—masterfully channeled once more by Tobin Bell—posits that their historic rivalry, a global spectacle of obsession and perfection, is not a celebration of human excellence, but a colossal, mutual trap. The film argues they have been prisoners for years, chained to the expectations of fans, the weight of legacy, and the mirror of each other’s greatness. The physical labyrinth they awake in is merely a literalization of their psychological prison. Each room is a grotesque cathedral to football: a corridor of swinging cleats that must be dodged, a penalty spot where a miss triggers a bone-crushing tackle from a mechanized defender, a puzzle requiring symbiotic passing while chained together. The traps are Jigsaw’s most creatively cruel in years, transforming the tools of their trade into instruments of exquisite torment.

Directors Michael and Peter Spierig, alongside a visionary trap-design team, deliver a clinical, white-knuckle aesthetic. The sterile, arena-like concrete bunker is a stark contrast to the franchise’s usual grimy decay, focusing all attention on the two men and the horrifying, Rube Goldbergian games. Ronaldo and Messi deliver performances of raw, credible desperation, their athletic physiques becoming canvases for pain and fear. The film shrewdly plays on their public personas—Ronaldo’s relentless, individualistic drive versus Messi’s intuitive, strategic genius—forcing these traits to be either their salvation or their doom. The mysterious new apprentice, a silent, pig-masked enforcer, adds a layer of cold, operational menace, ensuring the game proceeds with terrible, impartial logic. The true horror escalates as the “unforgivable sins” from their past are unveiled not as crimes of malice, but as the hidden casualties of their ascent: the rival destroyed by pressure, the family neglected for glory, the integrity sacrificed to the idol of victory. Jigsaw forces them to weigh these intangible sins on a scale of flesh and blood.

The film’s devastating power culminates in its final, unbearable moral calculus. The “Penalty Game” of the title is revealed to be the ultimate shootout: a literal, final kick that will spare one and condemn the other. This is where SAW XII transcends gore to achieve a kind of tragic grandeur. It asks whether two decades of pushing each other to superhuman heights can forge a bond stronger than the will to survive. The choice to cooperate or sacrifice becomes a referendum on everything their rivalry has meant. The climax is a heart-stopping, quiet moment of decision, more terrifying than any whirring blade. SAW XII: The Penalty Game is a landmark in the franchise—a film that uses its grotesque mechanics to ask searing questions about competition, legacy, and the price of being the best. It posits that in a world that worships winners and losers, John Kramer is the only one offering a final score that truly settles the account. It’s a brilliant, brutal match where the only way to win is to finally understand the game you’ve really been playing all along.