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By DEBORAH NICOL
Everyone knows that the
truth will set him free... but whose truth is
correct? If we justify selfish actions in our
minds, is a blurred reality still reality?
Writer-director Michael Haneke (The Piano Player,
Code Unknown) strikingly proposes more questions
than answers in his paranoid thriller, Caché.
Marrieds Georges and Anne begin to receive
surveillance tapes of their home, accompanied by
childlike drawings involving bloodletting. Initial
inclination leans towards teenage pranks, but
Georges (an anxious and withdrawn Daniel Auteuil)
begins to realize there is more to these images
than he has allowed himself to admit. Meanwhile,
Anne (a thoughtful and pragmatic Juliette Binoche)
is kept in the dark to wonder what secrets have
been kept from her, and how far those lies extend.
As each tape reveals only the truths it chooses
through careful though simple editing, art
imitates life in the truths we choose to expose.
Haneke shatters the day-to-day comfort of a family
who are left to fend for themselves. The police
provide no help, and to be honest, the couple
seems more annoyed than frightened by the ordeal.
The audience must bear the shock of the situation
as they try to decipher whether the beginning of a
scene is from the viewpoint of the stalker's
videotape, or merely the present moment. Ever
corner of a room is analyzed for clues and for the
safety of the characters. The paranoia of Lost
Highway may be comparative, although this film
lies far from David Lynch's alternate universe.
The atmosphere is clean and realistic, with no
hamper of a musical score or flashy
cinematography. However, the more the motives of
the voyeur are brought to light, the more the role
of the victim becomes questioned. Depending on
which truth is recounted exposes the guilty party.
The idea of trauma and guilt being swept under the
rug of memory was the inspiration for Haneke's
script when he learned of a disturbing 1961
Parisian massacre from the Algerian War of
Independence (mentioned briefly in the film, yet
setting all actions in motion). He had never heard
of this atrocity until viewing a recent
documentary, and was shocked that it could be
forgotten by the collective French society. Out of
sight, out of mind, or is it a matter of telling
history from a different perspective? As history
is always affected by the storyteller, how is fact
deciphered from fiction?
And who would know fiction better than Georges and
Anne, who discusses books for a living and is a
publisher, respectively? And are their present
lives directly affected by their childhood
behaviors? Are transgressions of youth unfurled
and used as teaching tools or buried and erased
with shame? If an event is never further discussed
and the guilt hidden within, does the responsible
party assume that no wrongdoing was committed?
What began as social commentary suddenly becomes
personal and psychological, and the cycle of truth
and blame feeds upon itself.
This film is of the brilliant ilk that more movies
should aspire to: creating more questions than it
answers, and raising the discussion level of
intelligent cinema. Life is not presented in a
neat package, and what would be the purpose of
having independent thought if it was? The thrill
of the chase to the truth of this story is
frightening – not for fear of the mad stalker, but
for fear of what we are capable of when we choose
to allow flexibility in our morals.
Extras on this disc are few in number but great in
volume. A great interview with the director
provides a very interesting discussion. Haneke
does not banter, but rather delves into a
straightforward discussion of the film in every
aspect (a commentary track would be superb, but
this does the trick just as well). A lengthy
behind-the-scenes featurette focuses on the
director's method of filmmaking. Numerous trailers
are also included. |