Caché is a disconcerting, uncomfortable and thoroughly unpleasant viewing experience. Normally, this would be an indictment of the film, but with Caché, it is extremely clear that director Michael Haneke has created the exact film he wanted. His filmography consists almost exclusively of films that aim to make the audience feel awful. His 1997 film Funny Games (remade shot-for-shot by Haneke in English 10 years later) is unbelievably horrific because it continually and purposefully makes the viewer feel awful. It is not a horror film that scares you and makes you afraid of things that go bump in the night; instead, it is a film that directly tells the viewer that he is a bad person, and subjects him to a sort of purposeful emotional torture.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbYXvq_auXE (as an example of how much Haneke doesn't like his audience)
Understanding Haneke’s oeuvre is critical in understanding Caché. Caché, like Funny Games or any of his other works, seems to exist as a direct indictment of the viewer. I am not trying to paint Haneke as merely a sadist (although at times I feel like it's true). Indeed, I’ve now subjected myself to three of his films (the equally hard-to-watch The Piano Teacher being the other). Instead, I think Haneke deliberately toys with the viewer’s expectation of what a film will do in order to, in his words, make the viewer a more active participant in watching a film. He deliberately reshapes both narrative and cinematography to make the viewer uncomfortable.
From a cinematographic perspective, Haneke’s work in Caché is incredibly successful. The opening shot, which is just several minutes of people walking and riding by in front of the house, immediately lets the viewer know that this will not be an incredibly fun film. The shot runs for an uncomfortably long period of time (a technique used again and again in Caché) and the credits appear in an incredibly simple matter, just small white text appearing on top of this shot. He deliberately refuses to allow the viewer to subsist on the filming techniques they are used to.
The entire cinematography makes you question, “Who is watching this film?” Normally, the camera can be used to represent a whole variety of perspectives: a character’s viewpoint, an establishing view of the surroundings, or something else. The security tapes sent to Georges (Daniel Auteuil) and Anne (Juliette Binoche) Laurent are clearly being made by someone. However, Caché itself, as a film, consists of the same type of static shots even when the perspective is not supposed to be a tape sent to the Laurents. For example, this sort of long-take occurs during the filming of Georges’ TV show, and the shot itself could not have been taken by any one person, nor could it have feasibly occurred, as the camera itself passes through a wall. This constant distortion of perspective is a central question of the film: who is this “absent one,” as Heath would say, that is seeing all of these shots? My opinion is, after viewing all of his films, that there is no answer, and that Haneke creates these questions only to make the viewer uncomfortable, but that is just an opinion.
However, the question of the “absent one” is not the only way in which Haneke toys with cinematographic convention. He shifts perspective in other ways, such as a violating the 180 degree rule. He uses this to great effect each time the protagonist Georges enters Majid’s (Maurice Bénichou) apartment. The first two times, where the encounters go relatively without incident, Georges enters the hallway from one direction. The last time, when their meeting is much, much more eventful, Georges enters from the other side.
This lack of comfort Haneke has created throughout the whole film delivers a shocking moment in this last scene between Georges and Majid. After spending a large portion of the film concentrating on mundane details, Haneke pulls out a completely genuine surprise. Majid calmly reiterates that he has not been terrorizing Georges, and then slits his own throat. First of all, by using the same calm, stationary long-take he has been using for the mundane details, Haneke makes the scene blend in with all the other boring yet uncomfortable moments we have seen before. Secondly, the method of suicide, and the timing, is so out of the ordinary that the audience almost cannot compute what has happened.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47FWtVp6UEI&translated=1
Haneke also expertly distorts our expectations of what to expect of the narrative. The film seems to establish Georges and Anne as the sympathetic protagonists. Then, it deliberately subverts this by having a scene where Georges has what is essentially a racist outburst towards a black man in the middle of the street. The audience is uncomfortable, as we have already decided to support Georges and Anne. We become more uncomfortable when we learn Georges is responsible for Majid’s poor living situation, as Georges framed Majid as a child and thus put Majid in an orphanage. Although I personally don’t believe Georges situation can be viewed as a critique towards the whole of wealthy society, Haneke certainly succeeds at making his “protagonist” genuinely unlikable, and, in a way, makes the audience feel as though we enabled his actions.
Caché is not a film I would recommend taking a date out on, unless you really don’t like her (and even then, try and be merciful). Nor would I watch it on some lazy Sunday afternoon. It is, however, an effective and interesting film, one that poses some interesting questions both about the nature of viewing film and about the nature of racism in society (although, again, I believe it succeeds moreso as an experiment in watching film). Haneke is a unique director, and deliberately makes his audience feel uncomfortable. Caché is certainly thought-provoking, and it really forces the viewer to examine all of their presumptions about watching film. As for me, I’m okay with seeing a Haneke film every now and again, and then return to more enjoyable films.
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haha, an entertaining read. I did think the cinematography in Cache was challenging, mostly because, as you mentioned, the pace of things was very different from what we as Hollywood film watchers are accustomed to. The minutes and minutes of surveillance tape was extremely hard to swallow for me--partly because it made things more real to me. Watching surveillance tape as part of the movie made everything seem like it was moving in real time, as if we were experiencing everything as it happened. The reality of Cache was probably what was most striking to me. The way that nothing really happened for a stretch of the movie made it feel like real life to me. Not that nothing happens in my life, but that it takes a long time of nothing for something to happen. haha. I suppose thats why I felt so shocked when the 'kill' happened. Because my eye was so conditioned into seeing very regular, slow things, this bout of SUDDENNESS completely shocked me, it echoed the same kind of trama that happens in reality.
ReplyDeleteI love your beginning sentence, it is succinctly true. Your clip from Funny Games is disturbing, yet it definitely supports your claim that Haneke enjoys torturing his audience. I like your point about making the viewer a more active participant in the film. As you discuss with the absent one, the viewer is often the privileged absent one, observing the household on the street only to realize that he or she is actually within the household, on the screen on the television in the family’s living room. It conveys a very personal sense of intrusion. I like your discussion of Haneke’s refusal to allow the viewer to rely on previous cinematic experiences as the proper modes of both expectation and viewership in this film. The timing of shits and in the case of the suicide, the incongruency of quick action and long shot continually jar the viewer. Just as the viewer is continually let in on a new perspective of the narrative, the filming itself is constantly distorted, as you mention. The absent one is always the viewer, yet its identity, the viewer’s desire to associate with a character on the screen, is time and time again concealed. When this concealment is coupled with uncomfortable and in the case of the television show, impossible long takes and violation of the 180 degree rule, the audience cannot help but feel disoriented. This inability to sympathize is, as you point out, reflected in the perception of the protagonists. The audience’s sympathy with the protagonists is constantly challenged, as in the case of Georges’ outburst in the street. I agree with you that although the entertainment value of the film is disappointing, there is a definite cinematic exploration that occurs, where the viewer’s relationship with the film is called into question.
ReplyDeleteI think you have written a very insightful critique of a movie that begs for such a thing. You have done exactly what the audience should do after viewing this film, which is sit down, analyze it, and come to the conclusion that we will never know exactly what happened. That I think, is the most disturbing part, and only a director who truly "didn't like" his audience would do this. I think some specific references to the readings would have made your argument stronger and less simply your opinion. I do think you have been able to almost reconcile our feelings about this movie, after all, only after we identify the problem can we begin to deal with it.
ReplyDeleteHarry, I've got to say, I don't get tired of reading blogs-- you definitely know what you're talking about and have seen enough movies to draw examples of other movie we may not have seen. Well done.
ReplyDeleteI like your ideas surrounding the opening scene of Cache, though I interpreted it slightly differently:
Last year I saw a video exhibit at the Nasher (which I found obnoxiously boring) that consisted of 5 minutes of a spider and a fly sitting motionless. I sat there watching it, expecting the spider to eventually pounce on the fly. However, after about 4 minutes 56 seconds, the fly flew out of the frame and the video reset. The point of film, I read, was to create consequence and meaning of the inconsequential. Fun idea, still a crappy exhibit.
I feel like the opening scene in Cache has a similar purpose: to condition the audience to look closely for things that may at first appear inconsequential, but which in fact hold meaning. Though I'm starting to see otherwise, I originally hoped that Cache held the answer to who was watching throughout the movie-- however the clues were hidden in the small events. Unfortunately, the more I learn about the director, the more I lose hope.
When I began to watch Cache, I had no experience with Haneke as a director. My only warning about what to expect with Cache came from Negar and my classmates. Hindsight is 20/20 so I cannot remember if I was expecting an acceptable resolution to the question of who was watching. Needless to say we were left to draw our own conclusions. I agree with you, however, that all the little details really don't lead to a satisfying conclusion. Many movies end without an end to make their viewers put the clues together and discover the truth. I believe, however, that the directors of those movies know the answer they want you to reach. Haneke has no answer for us. He demands his audience think critically, but he doesn't give enough clues to point to any of the characters as the most likely person behind the camera. WE are the voyeurs, and Haneke derives satisfaction from the uncomfortable feeling we are left with. Haneke plays off of shock value in a more intellectual manner than your average horror film. Modern horror movies build up on shocking scenes with creepy music, or Paris Hilton running scared alone, before some guy jumps out and attacks. With Cache, Haneke builds up to his shocking scenes with a series of dull and uneventful ones. The throat slashing suicide comes out of absolutely no where and is infinitely more shocking than any horror film, because it is so unexpected. The ultimate shock is the lack of ending though. We have a mirror held up before our eyes, and we are forced to face an unpleasant reflection of ourselves as voyeurs.
ReplyDeleteYour blog is, as usual, spot on in my opinion. A lot of what I just wrote as my comment on Danielle's blog I see reflected here. I think the point about Haneke's intentional disregard for film conventions being, essentially, the value of the film is particularly important. What I didn't think about is the point you made about intentionally making Georges unlikeable. Its just another perfect example of Haneke's attempt to really disregard every visual and narrative convention while still delivering a film of value. In a way, the fact that he pulls it off almost makes it more impressive than a more conventional "good" film.
ReplyDeleteA lot of great stuff in here, although I have to disagree with you about being ok with seeing a Haneke film every once in a while. In order to see a sadistic film intentionally, I think one has to be masochistic and I'm just not that into that. Back to your blog though, the one point that really stuck out to me was your brief discussion about racism. I think you are spot on when you say that Haneke initially makes us think that Georges is a likable protagonist. After having us sit with this idea for a while, cement it into our brains, and begin to form viewing expectations and sympathies from it, the director then, as you say, subverts this idea. The racial outburst towards the cyclist makes us a little uncomfortable but Georges does seem to back down from it. But he continuously hides things from his wife and is harsh towards his son, making it difficult to reconcile this man with someone who is being victimized. More evidence towards your point that Haneke intentionally makes the viewer uncomfortable.
ReplyDeletewell-selected examples! It's so true that the viewing experience is frustrating. Just as the picture perfect life of the family is shaken, so is our experience as viewers. Bourgeoisie sensibilities be dammed (or so Hanake would say, I think).
ReplyDelete