Caché (Michael Haneke, 2005)

[ben d banana]

Haneke's open acknowledgement of the audience's preconceived notions with the film's opening line of dialogue perfectly sets the stage for his continual testing of the viewers' prejudices/logic/optimism/pessimism/etc, as evidenced by the variety of opinions here, not to mention the final reaction of many.

[Carson Dyle]

I've been avoiding this thread until I had a chance to see the film, which I finally did last night. I've been going in circles trying to figure it out. I think if we want to take what transpired literally, there's pretty good evidence that Georges' son was behind it all. Not 100%, but pretty good.

But if we want to take it on a non-literal level, is it possible that the videotaped images are a manifestation of Georges' guilt and that "no one" sent them? The fact that his remembrance of young Majid being taken away is framed like the other "surveillance" shots is what leads me to wonder this. (If this is, in fact, his rememberance.)

I assume that the point of the film is that no matter how complacent we get or how blameless we feel for the misfortunes of others, there is an omnipresent, all-seeing "eye" taking in everything we do and judging us.

In the beginning Georges tells his wife that he would have noticed a strange person loitering in the alley. Wouldn't the next logical step be to search the alley for a hidden camera, especially since they continue to receive tapes? Does he not search because he realizes on a subconscious level that such a search would be fruitless? Later, when he goes to Majid's house the second time, wouldn't the first thing out of his mouth be "I'm only coming inside if you turn that damn hidden camera off?" Maybe he knows on some level that there's no camera to be found. I don't know, I'm still trying to work it all out.

Have any of you who saw it a while ago come to any other conclusions? Also, what is the first line of dialogue? I can't remember.

[Andre Jurieu]

But if we want to take it on a non-literal level, is it possible that the videotaped images are a manifestation of Georges' guilt and that "no one" sent them? The fact that his remembrance of young Majid being taken away is framed like the other "surveillance" shots is what leads me to wonder this. (If this is, in fact, his rememberance.)

It's possible. A great many writers/critics have pointed out that whether or not someone is actually sending the tapes, the tapes themselves (and don't forget the accompanying notes that seem to be drawn by a child that only Georges understands) do act as a manifestation of Georges' guilty conscience.

I assume that the point of the film is that no matter how complacent we get or how blameless we feel for the misfortunes of others, there is an omnipresent, all-seeing "eye" taking in everything we do and judging us.

That's a different take. I haven't heard too many people say that Haneke is putting forth the idea that some omnipotent personality is judging our actions. Personally, I believe the "point" is that Haneke wants us to question our own perspectives, which have been shaped a great deal by the abstraction and distance of our media (television has a presence throughout the film). I tend to think his efforts are more focused on formal and political concerns. He does make it clear that the idea of surveillance is a threatening notion in the lives of these people - as if they cannot deal with the idea of scrutiny, because they haven't admitted to themselves that they have attained some portion of their comfort at the expense of someone else. I believe he wants to shake our comfortable assumption, or implicit trust, that we are in control of the thriller, by constantly shifting the perspective and control of the images within his film. We, like Georges, might try to continually justify our actions as the right ones to make based on our own perspective, but we also must accept that our actions have detrimental consequences to other parties. I think Haneke does not enjoy the idea that Western societies never question their own perspectives, which have been shaped by a comfortable history for their own cultures.

In the beginning Georges tells his wife that he would have noticed a strange person loitering in the alley. Wouldn't the next logical step be to search the alley for a hidden camera, especially since they continue to receive tapes?

Well, who says that they don't search the alley? They might have, but the camera is probably long gone anyway. They usually receive the tapes hours after the recorded actions, so the perpetrator has probably taken the camera away.

Does he not search because he realizes on a subconscious level that such a search would be fruitless?

Perhaps. That's sounds very plausible.

Later, when he goes to Majid's house the second time, wouldn't the first thing out of his mouth be "I'm only coming inside if you turn that damn hidden camera off?" Maybe he knows on some level that there's no camera to be found. I don't know, I'm still trying to work it all out.

That would make sense. Maybe he just cannot see the camera though and thus assumes it isn't present. Again, he seems to trust that his perspective is correct. If he doesn't see it immediately, it must not exist.

[ben d banana]

Also, what is the first line of dialogue?

After all of my hyping I should remember it exactly (it's been months and I have yet to see it again on its current release), but it's basically "Is that it?" Talk about reading the audience and immediately putting their preconceptions on notice.

[Carson Dyle]

Andre Jurieu wrote:

Personally, I believe the "point" is that Haneke wants us to question our own perspectives, which have been shaped a great deal by the abstraction and distance of our media (television has a presence throughout the film). I tend to think his efforts are more focused on formal and political concerns.

Andre,

You're probably right that Haneke is more concerned with formal and political concerns. I went to the place I did because the very nature of cinema places the audience in the position of the so-called "all-seeing eye." We see an objective truth to the Majid situation and condemn Georges for not accepting any responsibility for destroying this man's life not once, but twice. If your argument is that Haneke wants us to turn that eye on ourselves, I think I "get" the movie now. I still don't know who sent the tapes, but you can't have everything.

[che-etienne]

I went to the place I did because the very nature of cinema places the audience in the position of the so-called "all-seeing eye."

I may just be misinterpreting what your saying, but I would say that the viewer is never placed in the position of being omniscient or 'all-seeing'. The frame limits our own perspective, and indeed everything the audience sees is some subjective point-of-view most often. I think one of the things that Haneke did best in this film was to make the audience so aware of that unreliability. The fact that we do not know who exactly is 'showing' us what we are seeing, or if not whom than why exactly we are seeing what we see. "Cache" made me feel as if I wasn't in control of anything, and in that way I think it is provocative filmmaking at its best.

[Carson Dyle]

Perhaps I should have used the phrase "judge and jury" rather than "all-seeing eye" because, you're right, we're only shown selective images. But based upon the images we are shown, we're able to make a determination of Georges' guilt or innocence in the matter concerning Majid. No matter what Georges thinks of himself or his actions, we know better. Or at least we think we do. I don't suppose you can trust anything in this film.

[ben d banana]

Also, what is the first line of dialogue?

After all of my hyping I should remember it exactly (it's been months and I have yet to see it again on its current release), but it's basically "Is that it?" Talk about reading the audience and immediately putting their preconceptions on notice.

For those of you not yet aware, I'm moron whose senses and memory are not to be trusted. The actual opening lines of dialogue are: Georges "Well?"; Anne "Nothing". It's not as funny when the crowd around you isn't reacting wildly, which no one did on this second viewing except for in the most obvious moment, not even the ending.

The idea that this shot might be Georges' memory (as we assume similar 'surveillance framed' flashbacks to his childhood to be) raised (at least) two possibilities:

1) Georges remembers the earlier scene and now realises the presence of Majid's son. Anybody who is going to see the film for a second time could verify this by scanning the frame of that earlier scene for any sign of Majid's son. Frankly, I think it's unlikely.

2) Georges is recalling the earlier scene and suturing in the horrific revelation that his paranoia is suggesting. An interesting possibility that combines the new 'ways of seeing' that he, like us, has been trained to employ with the film's themes of betrayal, conspiracy, familial breakdown and interrogation of (unreliable) memory.

It's definitely not the first as Pierrot is wearing his jacket in the earlier scene and not in the final shot. It could, however, be the latter, although, as we know, it could be pretty much anything. A shot from the day the first tape was delivered? Toiletduck!, if/when you see this film again you too will likely be baffled at how you could have possibly missed Pierrot and Majid's son.

If I re-call that scene correctly (and admittedly my memory might not be accurate given the fact that I haven't viewed the film since September), it's Anne who jumps to the conclusion that Pierrot is upset about her relationship with her boss.

I seem to remember Pierrot mentioning her boss, not necessarily out-and-out accusing Anne, but tossing it out as a one of those stingers that teens toss oh so well. I don't really want to claim mine as fact, either, though. Can anyone confirm it either way?

It was, in fact, Pierrot who brought it up.

France's relationship with, and denial masquerading as short-term memory about, Algeria seemed even more pronounced on the second go round.

Also, the street down which Georges' house is filmed is Rue des Iris.

[jorencain]

Just saw this tonight. My immediate reaction was a big question mark, but after thinking about it and reading some thoughts on here, I was able to formulate my ideas. I really liked it, and agree with much of what's been said on here. Here's what I came up with though (much of it is pretty obvious and has already been discussed):

The "Whodunnit" is obviously just a set-up for what the movie is really about: memory, conscience, Algeria, aggression, guilt, etc. The story between the 2 men can be expanded to represent the political aspects of France and Algeria, but we can look at their relationship for the key to what Haneke's getting at. Georges greatly wronged Majid in their childhood. As the aggressor, Georges acted childish, got what he wanted, and not only forgot what he did, but had a clear conscience and didn't think about the ramifications it would have on Majid. He only remembered these events from childhood when he was reminded by the 2 drawings. Throughout it all, he keeps denying that he had any part in the path that Majid's life took.

I see the tapes, drawings, and suicide all as attempts to make Georges wake up to what he had done and show some accountability. Majid lived with these things his entire life, was obviously distraught by them, and felt the results of Georges' actions for his entire life. Georges was completely delusional about his actions; he was always the aggressor, and threatened both Majid and his son. Even after he saw the tape of himself threatening Majid, and could actually see Majid's reaction once he left (breaking down in tears), he doesn't feel an ounce of guilt or regret. At the same time, he refers to the videos as a "campaign of terror" while he acts aggressively towards Majid's son after he just lost his father. Neither of the Algerians show any signs of violence. If they were behind the tapes, it seems that it was only to wake him up to what he had done.

In the end, I think that Pierrot, Majid, and/or his son could have been behind the tapes, but it really doesn't matter. Either way, it couldn't have been Pierrot alone (someone was driving in one of the tapes, and the phone calls at the beginning were from a man). It seems most likely that it was Majid's son, though. To me anyway.

[franco]

Sorry for not making any educated input, but I need to express my extreme dissatisfaction with this:

[Matt]

Sorry for not making any educated input, but I need to express my extreme dissatisfaction with this:

Maybe they're just trying to keep in the spirit of the movie's subject by Photochopping the black man out of the picture.

[Lino]

Someone actually gave it 6 stars? What, out of a possible 10 or something?

Criterion isn't the only one with drunken people working for them...

[Cinéslob]

Someone actually gave it 6 stars? What, out of a possible 10 or something?

Criterion isn't the only one with drunken people working for them...

Annie Mall, meet Time Out magazine's pointless six-star rating system; Time Out magazine's pointless six-star rating system, meet Annie Mall.

[Lino]

I only have one thing to say about that:



](*,)

[Andre Jurieu]

Maybe they're just trying to keep in the spirit of the movie's subject by Photochopping the black man out of the picture.

But what's the deal with making Binoche's head double the normal size?

[Barmy]

Binoche is twice as big a star as that guy.

[Barmy]

I like Cache, but also like this Cache-bashing article:

http://www.thehotbutton.com/today/hot.b ... 7_mon.html

[Antoine Doinel]

I like Cache, but also like this Cache-bashing article:

http://www.thehotbutton.com/today/hot.b ... 7_mon.html

I couldn't agree with this article more. I saw Cache about a month and left the theatre flabbergasted that this movie got the critical praise it did. And it wasn't because I didn't "get it" - I thought Haneke completely fumbled his own film. Make a thriller or make a movie about politics - by trying to do both Haneke sacrifices the payoffs on both ends. It's a muddled mess with a mystery not worth solving and a meditation on guilt that doesn't seem to have a point to make.

[leo goldsmith]

And it wasn't because I didn't "get it" - I thought Haneke completely fumbled his own film. Make a thriller or make a movie about politics - by trying to do both Haneke sacrifices the payoffs on both ends. It's a muddled mess with a mystery not worth solving and a meditation on guilt that doesn't seem to have a point to make.

To be clear: though you agree with this Hot Button character, he does believe that the film has a point to make (or is trying to make one).

This article makes for some interesting reading (I heartily agree with this statement: "To literalize the videotapes that drive Cache's surface narrative is to completely miss the real goals of the film."), but anyone who has paid the slightest bit of attention to Michael Haneke and his interviews will see that he chooses his words very carefully. So, I'm not sure why one should blame Haneke for how others receive his film. At the NYFF, every question lobbed at him about the meaning of the film (and there were many, despite a prior warning that he wouldn't answer such questions) was immediately dismissed. How this amounts to him being full of shit is beyond me.

Furthermore, as a friend asked after this same press conference back in October, why do Americans always bring this shit back to 9/11 and American-ness? To be sure, there are plenty of suggestions of this theme in the film (the tv news, for example), but as with Manderlay, I think you are missing a lot if you think this is simply another allegory for the US/Iraq/al Qaeda shit sandwich.

This is perhaps what Poland is saying in his column, but I think he reiterates this short-sightedness even as he makes such a fuss about it in others.

[rs98762001]

If Haneke is full of shit, than that article is a sewer of it waiting to explode.

When has Haneke ever mentioned a connection between CACHE and 9/11? And the Iraq war is not exactly a huge issue in the film. It's seen briefly on television, simply as a parallel, present-day Western occupation of a foreign country with potentially tragic consequences. Makes perfect sense to me, and ties in aptly with the movie's main themes of guilt and responsibility, be it on a personal or a national level.

[che-etienne]

If Cache is trying to make any political point or statement, which I believe it is not (though politically-pointED it has to me no specific agenda of its own), it lies more in reference to France's current liberal, pseudo-intellectual middle-class, not towards the Iraq war etc. I refer to the children of the sixties and seventies. Those Godard profiled in Masculin Feminin. The Pepsi generation now grown old and with children. If anything I think there's a little bit of an indictment of the France's political swing these days since though its stance is against the War in Iraq, it has huge problems with unemployment among the youthes especially youthes of minorities such as Algerians. In the end, however, to me this film is a political commentary that works on a far more general level, and as well a very practiced and analytical look at one man's guilt and self-denial.

[franco]

Now, this is much better for those who don't have access to the French disc.

[The Invunche]

Ahh the rip of the French DVD awailable on BitTorrent worked fine.

[ellipsis7]

This may shed some (but by no means all) light...

We love Hidden. But what does it mean?
The enigmatic French thriller is the water cooler film of the year, confounding audiences with its ambiguous plot. Jason Solomons asked the director to shed some light...

Jason Solomons
Sunday February 19, 2006

Observer

Even in a year when powerful, politically engaged movies abound among the mainstream awards nominations, there is one film everyone is talking about above all others. Despite being absent from the Baftas and Oscars, Hidden (Caché), directed by Michael Haneke, has become the topic of heated conversations around water coolers and over dinner tables across the country. It is on its way to becoming the defining film of a generation.
Hidden is the story of a wealthy Parisian family torn apart when they start receiving videotapes of their house, accompanied by crude, violent drawings. Daniel Auteuil plays Georges Laurent, presenter of a successful literary talk show on TV; Juliette Binoche is his wife, Anne, who works for a publishing house run by an old friend, Pierre. The couple have a 12-year-old son, Pierrot, who competes for his school swimming team. But someone wants to upset this idyll, forcing Georges to unearth a dark secret hidden in his past and buried in his psyche.

Out of this, Haneke crafts a thriller that has audiences twitching with suspicion, letting out gasps at the film's one moment of violence and emerging from the cinema in deep discussion. I can't recall a film in the last decade that has provoked so many theories, nor demanded so many explanations - none of which appear to satisfy, simply feeding the appetite, rather, for second viewings and yet more interpretations.

I rang the director and put five key questions to him in a bid to solve some of Hiddens riddles. Below is what he had to say.

1 Whodunnit?

Is it Majid, the son of Algerian farmhands, sent to an orphanage and now an old man seeking revenge for a ruined life? Or is it Majid's own son, avenging on behalf of his father? Were Pierrot and his school friends playing a prank on the fancy TV star dad, the 'bobos' as Georges refers to himself? Or, as suggested by the much-talked-about final shot of the school steps, are Pierrot and Majid's son in cahoots?

Could it be Georges sending the tapes to himself, trying to frame Majid as a stalker? Or could it even be the film-maker away writing a scenario that the group of friends talk about during the dinner party? I've even seen a suggestion that it was Georges's elderly mother.

Haneke says: 'I'm not going to give anyone this answer. If you think it's Majid, Pierrot, Georges, the malevolent director, God himself, the human conscience - all these answers are correct. But if you come out wanting to know who sent the tapes, you didn't understand the film. To ask this question is to avoid asking the real question the film raises, which is more: how do we treat our conscience and our guilt and reconcile ourselves to living with our actions?

'People are only asking, "whodunnit?" because I chose to use the genre, the structure of a thriller, to address the issues of blame and conscience, and these methods of narrative usually demand an answer. But my film isn't a thriller and who am I to presume to give anyone an answer on how they should deal with their own guilty conscience?'

2 What is the significance of the shaggy dog story told at the dinner party?

The joke, told by actor Denis Podalydes, brings themes of karma and retribution and of scars from the past remaining visible into the present. It's an unsettling story, which ends in a burst of mock violence, but prepares the way for a sudden act of violence to occur later.

The dinner party is part of Haneke's extended critique of middle-class mores. The guests chat idly of the misfortunes of others, complaining that in divorce, one always has to take sides. Binoche is again wearing one of her sack-like dresses, which are a key part of her deliberately pared-down style.

Haneke says: 'I heard this joke at a dinner party once and thought it so good I wrote it down when I got home and always wanted to use it. I think it sits well here because it makes people ask if it's true or not. If you tell it well, people are never sure if you're joking.'

3 Why swimming?

Pierrot swims for his school and in one scene wins a race, which delights his parents who are attending the gala. In fact, it's the only time we see them happy together. But is this a flashback to a happier time? There is also a mysterious swimming coach, whose voice we hear, and who we see only in silhouette, but he obviously knows Pierrot and his family. Does the water perhaps signify a sort of religious motif of ritual cleansing? Does it connect to the drownings of more than 200 Algerians in the River Seine after the clashes with the police on 17 October 1961, deaths rarely spoken about in the French media and the riots which made Majid an orphan?

Haneke says: 'We chose swimming because the young actor who plays Pierrot can swim well. It's very simple. If we'd have chosen football or skiing, the audience wouldn't believe he's good enough to be on the team. It's also very cinematic, with the water and the noise - nothing more profound than that.'

4 Why set the story in the media?

Georges lives and breathes books. He's surrounded by them, when he works, relaxes, eats. His set in the TV studio is similarly surrounded by books. His dining room is in a sort of stylish library, where the family take breakfast and dinner and entertain guests. But there is also a library in the living room, although this has books and video tapes in it, with a huge TV in the centre, a screen which becomes increasingly dominant, acting like a window - into Georges's private life and soul, when they play the tapes on it, and onto the world, as news programmes blare away - ignored - in the background, telling of continued wars and colonial-type disputes in Iraq and Palestine.

We also see Georges at work, editing his show, cutting out bits of opinion and conversation he doesn't like. He enjoys the status his fame brings and he's pleased when he hears that a distant relative always watches his programme, or when friends come round to watch the show - but he doesn't always like being watched.

Haneke says: 'I like the multiplicity of books, because each book is different in the mind of each reader. It's the same with this film - if 300 people are in a cinema watching it, they will all see a different film, so in a way there are thousands of different versions of Hidden. The point being that, despite what TV shows us, and what the news stories tell us, there is never just one truth, there is only personal truth.'

5 What clues are in the final scene?

The film ends with a long shot of Pierrot's school steps, with children coming out at the end of the day. We've seen this very static shot before, earlier in the film, when Georges goes to pick his son up. In the final scene, we can make out two crucial characters coming together on the steps. They have a conversation. It's hard to tell if they know each other already or if this is their first meeting, but the conversation seems civil. It's the long shot that makes it seem threatening.

Is this more surveillance footage, from a hidden camera or from a school security camera? Are we being shown, finally, whodunnit? Is this a call to both France and Algeria to deal with the past and move forward together? Or is it the cycle of hatred recommencing, the sins of fathers rippling on into the present?

Haneke says: 'Although this scene happens in silence, I did actually write dialogue for it. The actors are actually speaking it and it might stand as an explanation for some. In any case, that dialogue will never be written in the published screenplay for the film and I told the actors never to reveal it to anyone. They are bound to silence forever and I hope they will have forgotten it by now, because they didn't know when they were shooting it what the significance of the scene might be.'

Do you enjoy deliberately frustrating people? 'I look at it as productive frustration. Films that are entertainments give simple answers but I think that's ultimately more cynical, as it denies the viewer room to think. If there are more answers at the end, then surely it is a richer experience. '

[The Invunche]

But if you come out wanting to know who sent the tapes, you didn't understand the film. To ask this question is to avoid asking the real question the film raises, which is more: how do we treat our conscience and our guilt and reconcile ourselves to living with our actions?

Haneke, you sidestepping bastard. We can ask both questions, dammit.