The sign language at the end?
The very last shot of the film shows a boy using sign language. Does anybody know what he was saying?
shareI don't think it was important, at least to a general audience who isn't mute. I think that was Haneke's way of showing the inability to communicate, listen, or understand each other. But that's just how I saw it. I'd be interested in hearing other people's interpretations.
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I feel there is a subtle difference between electing to show modern alienation and the inability of people to communicate, and purposely producing signs that are unintelligible to the audience they are intended to (the "general audience who isn't mute" you refered to).
Haneke in that sequence is himself voluntarily creating the conditions of miscommunication, then uses it as some kind of illustration of his point.
The more I watch his films and read about them, the more I find it hard to convince myself of the man's intellectual honesty. At best he seems to me now as a director who wants to have his cake and eat it too.
I'm still new to Haneke, so I can't yet comment about him being intellectually dishonest. And also I have yet to do a second run on his films to pick up on the nuances. I may have not articulated my thoughts well enough in my OP. I meant to say that both the opening and the closing scenes with the sign language when looked at in the context of the entire film and what Haneke showed us, seemed to indicate to me, the theme of the film which I mentioned in my post above. So in that sense, I'm not sure I understand what you meant by "Haneke in that sequence is himself voluntarily creating the conditions of miscommunication, then uses it as some kind of illustration of his point"
Could you elaborate? I just want to make sure I'm understanding what you meant exactly.
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Sorry for being unclear.
I meant to say that both the opening and the closing scenes with the sign language when looked at in the context of the entire film and what Haneke showed us, seemed to indicate to me, the theme of the film which I mentioned in my post above.
Agreed. I definitely think that's what he does and that the main theme is what you say it is.
What I meant to say is that these two bookend scenes feel like a set-up to me: Haneke voluntarily creates a situation where the "intended audience" (as in not deaf-mute) will not understand what the character is trying to express (that we understand the scene itself - and we do - is another matter...).
That the deaf-mute kids don't understand each other in the first scene is a perfectly plausible and natural occurrence. But in that specific example, it is not due to a symptomatic case of the "code (of communication) being unknown", because all these kids know the sign language.
I say "not symptomatic" here, because it's a mere trivial misunderstanding, which is bound to happen from time to time and is a normal occurence rather than the symptomatic sign of a larger dysfunction of modern society.
On the other hand, that we, the audience, do not understand the kid in both scenes is a direct consequence of a deliberate choice by Haneke of putting a deaf-mute kid here, addressing the camera in sign language.
It is a specious argument for use as a demonstration, because the situation is exceptional.
For example, if you put a Cantonese and a Swaili speaker in a room together, you can't derive from their inability to communicate properly with each other, that humans in modern society are slowly loosing the means to communicate and understand each other. Mostly, because you specifically created the conditions leading to that miscommunication.
These bookend sequences are nevertheless quite powerful. And that's in fact the problem for me.
It would have been perfectly all right in my opinion to have the exact same scenes in a film that doesn't purport to edify us so blatantly.
But in "Code Unknown" if feels like Haneke wants you to form an opinion by presenting you a rigged case, hoping the emotional impact will prevent you from realizing he's rigged the case to show precisely what he intends to demonstrate.
In a way, it reminds me a little bit of the much discussed final scene in "Inception": will the spinning top eventually stop spinning and is the protagonist still in a dream or not?
We can't know because the shot cuts to black and the protagonist's predicament remains an opened question.
Except we don't know only because the director decided to end the shot before we got to know. The protagonist himself knows.
So the suspense here is solely an artefact of the direction, a set-up for the audience, which makes no sense in the diegesis.
Ok bad example!
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I think I understand your issue with it. It feels forced and contrived - part of Haneke being "didactic" (?) as you mentioned before in the Haneke's thread I created. With that said - it's interesting to me how, I didn't have an issue with it even if it's a direct contrivance but when I'd spot it in a conventional film I'd feel pretension oozing out of it all over. To me, that goes to show the levels of skill of a filmmaker who is "good" and is working in the 'high art' arena - and a director who is "bad" working in a conventional continuity style. Again though, that's arguable, since you definitely "felt" the "set-up" from Haneke and took issue with it, but I didn't. Maybe that's just an issue of taste or I don't know what it is. But I like this discussion.
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I like that discussion too.
It feels forced and contrived - part of Haneke being "didactic" (?)
I'd personally say artificial (though not systematically so) and patronizing (most of the time).
I didn't have an issue with it even if it's a direct contrivance but when I'd spot it in a conventional film I'd feel pretension oozing out of it all over. To me, that goes to show the levels of skill of a film-maker who is "good" and is working in the 'high art' arena.
I hear you.
I think this has precisely become one of the problems with later Haneke.
He is now considered by the critique as being in the realm of "high art" -as anyone who has received two Palme d'Or would, I suppose- and is expected to be found there.
The audience and critiques alike sometimes can feel compelled to fill in the moral or argumentative gaps in his films with their own intellectual projections.
The form in his films is definitely that of a consummate artist. Unfortunately, the content is not always on par, and I sometimes have the feeling of a "small subject in a great packaging".
A counter example I can think of is David Cronenberg who, from the late 70's up to the early 2000's, managed to tackle incredibly complex subjects and philosophical ideas in the form of otherwise usually (undeservedly so) less respected minor "genre films" (horror, thriller, SF...) in a more subtle and roundabout manner.
As a side note, I'm personally always very wary of using the nowadays all too popular adjective "pretentious" (as in "a desire to do something or a claim to be something that is impressive or important" [Merriam-Webster definition]) against any director -even Haneke- as I haven't yet decided if that is always necessarily a bad thing, especially in art. In the end, I guess it all comes down to whether the director has the intelligence to translate those pretensions on screen in a cinematically articulate way that also respects his audience.
I think you're right about the "feeling and matter of taste" part though...
I still do recognize Haneke's skill behind the camera and, as I said, my gripe with him is really that - as some other person put it in a forum - he is "probably not a very pleasant person". But I understand that hardly constitutes a basis for serious cinema critique.
Be that as it may, I know I'll still be going to watch Haneke's films in theatre as soon as they are out, like I have since "The White Ribbon", if only out of curiosity for the form of his cinema.
I suppose one scene in his whole output "redeems" Haneke for me, in a manner of speaking, and makes me believe he is still not quite ready to give up on humanity.
It's in the otherwise very, very bleak "The White Ribbon".
(HERE BE MILD SPOILERS)
The first part of the film depicts men as either austere patriarchs, libidinous bastards who will screw anything that moves (and in the case of the good doctor, even his young daughter), or "Village of the Damn"-grade creepy young boys with both a sadistic and masochistic streak...
So at some point, when the school teacher, a man in his mid-thirties and probably the only decent male character in the film (hell! make that the whole of Haneke's filmography!) takes his fiancée Eva - a sixteen-something very shy and very sweet country girl he will marry after a year long engagement - for a horse carriage stroll in the countryside and suddenly decides they should take a "short-cut" through the woods, you start to feel very uneasy, as Eva does.
As Eva seems genuinely panicked and very weakly almost begs him not to take the short cut, I started to feel an "Irreversible underpass scene" kinda nausea rise in me, thinking "is there no depth this director won't sink to?", all the while knowing that Haneke wouldn't go "full Noé", graphically speaking, and that anything happening would remain off camera.
It was a pleasant surprise, and perhaps the *only* moment of relief EVER in a Haneke film, when the school teacher finally understands how his, in the end, innocent intention could cause anxiety in his soon to be wife and decides to stay on the main trail.
The look of gratitude in Eva's face, for him just being a decent man and basically the man she thought he was, as she leans on his shoulder is a rare uplifting moment.
And it's definitely one moment Haneke's audience has *earned* at this point in his filmography.
(A short excerpt of the scene can be seen there: https://youtu.be/rUUuD0oh81o?t=41).
Perhaps another one would be the "Is it so hard to tell him "I love you"?" sequence with Juliette Binoche in the film post-sync sequence in "Code Unknown" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LwT5k5UHPYQ).
That was indeed very well written (as far as "meta" scenes go - much better than the "rewind scenes" in both "Funny Games") and performed.
(END OF SPOILERS)
Haneke also definitely has a sense of casting and seems to be a good actor's director. The performances he repeatedly managed to get out from the likes of Juliette Binoche, Isabelle Huppert and Susan Lothar (RIP) are all quite impressive... though to be fair, they are all incredible actresses.
Apologies for the long message. Rainy Sunday afternoon here.
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Wow. I think our tastes and observations are pretty similar. It was delightful to hear you mention that very scene - your emotional chain of events about it were the same as mine. And you are spot on about this quite possibly being the most "cathartic" moment in Haneke's filmography EVER. It's hands down one of my favorite scenes of the film. The innocence of the girl, her shyness. The direction and acting of it all. As you say, Haneke's sense of casting is spot on. He is quite possibly one of the greatest living filmmakers right now.
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I wanted to respond now after I've had time to digest his filmography and I can't help but agree with your comments about him. Your Cronenberg example is especially a good call now that I think about it. Those were relevant themes within "genre (and conventional form?)" but still very intellectually stimulating and - Haneke would dislike me saying this - "entertaining".
As for the comment that Haneke wouldn't be a pleasant person to be around with - that also is a good call, despite it not having much to do with criticism of his films. It's more of an 'after-taste' for me, that has developed after realizing just what a cynical and nihilistic attitude his films (and naturally, him) carry. It begins to weigh you down mentally. His films do have legitimate statements about society and maybe "how things are" - but in the end they're quite depressing. And if life isn't already depressing, watching his films - you almost have to be psychologically strong to not "crack" any further in your life.
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Thanks for sharing.
His films certainly CAN wear you down.
I understand you've been through his whole filmography in a relatively short period? Kudos for that! You'll have to watch a good dose of Terrence Malick, Kieslowski or Dardennes Brothers (if you want to stick to European realism) just to keep things even now...
Can't help feeling a little guilty though: felt like I've spoiled your fun... You seemed to enjoy his films so much!
More seriously though, as we discussed earlier Haneke is a very intellectual and precise director and he does have his (rare) uplifting moments too, but that's not really the issue.
And as you said, one can't honestly blame a director (or anyone, for that matter) for his world-view, nihilistic and cynical - or otherwise outrageous to one's sensibility - though it may be.
It's just that Haneke's films depict "Haneke's World" and try to pass it for "The World". Which can be problematic, and a serious responsibility when one's ambitions include tackling greater moral truths or sociological issues.
In short I feel like Haneke's films are pervaded and contaminated by his own fear of the world, and that his way of dealing with that fear is to try and get you as afraid as he his, instead of reaching out and extending his hand.
OK, metaphors and analogies are not my forte.
I've finally watched "Benny's video" by the way.
It has a lot of that very "European style" direction that makes Haneke's films really absorbing and realist(ic?). He definitely knows how to let a sequence breathe, editing wise (minimal editing, long shots, often eschews the classic shot/reverse-shot editing during dialogues...), minimal use of music, naturalist lighting and performances from his actors, etc.
There is also a lot in the details: the inference of the compromised morality of the parents -right from the opening- when they seem to condone their daughter's Sponzi scam, the parallel between the Sponzi pyramidal scam and the mother and son going to Egypt, the living room wall decorated with pop art as a sign of cultural decay (that's Haneke all right !), the head shaving signifying equal measures penance/provocation/demand for attention, the sexualization of violence as a substitute for carnal lust (he covers the dead girl's body but plays with her blood on his own body), etc.
And to me, there is also that ever growing feeling that Haneke is a terrified philosophical reactionary. In this film he seems terrified of everything: youth, popular culture, bourgeoisie, violence in films, loud music, TV news, etc.
But mostly again, it feels like he's building a specious argument by trying to derive a general rule from a very specific and non-representative case, and also letting the spectator do most of the philosophical (causality wise) leg-work.
What I mean is that he chooses to show a sociopathic/psychopathic boy (I don't think that many adolescent boys from bourgeois families, left to their own devices and consuming great quantities of violent films and loud music murder random strangers just to "know how it feels like") and leaves you to connect the dots and infer a possibly deeper meaning about our modern society's moral decay and relation to violent media.
Anyway, glad I finally got round to seeing it and "71 Fragments" is next in line.
I had seen Michel Franco's "Después de Lucia" too, which you mentioned earlier I think.
As I remember it, it does (apparently very consciously so) have a strong "Haneke vibe" but without the same pretensions (again, I don't mean that in a pejorative way, I think Franco simply has a more modest vision) or the same directorial and writing talent to actualize them.
Another quite austere and pessimistic (but infinitely more compassionate and less terrified of the world) contemporary Austrian film-maker that I much prefer to Haneke, is Ulrich Seidl.
I especially appreciated his "Paradise Trilogy: Love, Faith and Hope" (2012-2013) and "Dog Days" (2001).
I'd be curious to know what you think of his films.
His films certainly CAN wear you down.
I understand you've been through his whole filmography in a relatively short period? Kudos for that! You'll have to watch a good dose of Terrence Malick, Kieslowski or Dardennes Brothers (if you want to stick to European realism) just to keep things even now...
Yes, I watched a film a day. I've heard his name being mentioned by someone from a forum I frequented, and decided it was time to see what "the hype was about". And I did enjoy his films. I just want to be clear on that. I was just kind of thinking in retrospect, about him and his films, and I got reminded of your comments and agreed on some of them.
Malick, Kieslowski and Dardennes, I've basically seen all their major works and love each of them respectively. Kieslowski I grew to appreciate about two years ago when I rewatched the Three Colors Trilogy and then went on to his earlier work which just blew my mind - specifically his short documentaries which were so humanistic, that a great majority of them just lingered with me for days. I then watched every possible interview I could with him which further solidified my love for him as a humanist filmmaker.
Malick and Dardennes are both my favorites.
It's just that Haneke's films depict "Haneke's World" and try to pass it for "The World". Which can be problematic, and a serious responsibility when one's ambitions include tackling greater moral truths or sociological issues.
In short I feel like Haneke's films are pervaded and contaminated by his own fear of the world, and that his way of dealing with that fear is to try and get you as afraid as he his, instead of reaching out and extending his hand.
Interesting comment about "Haneke's World" as I begin to see how that can be - as you further expanded. There's a quote by Haneke (I think in the quotes page here) is that he works out his own fears / etc through films... so you're definitely on to something here. All the while, these 'fears' of his in his films certainly slammed me with a sledgehammer. This 'didactic' side of his you mentioned once previously made me see things in a new light. I still remember seeing Funny Games (original) for the first time around the time the remake was coming out - and it having the most violent effect on me precisely because of his approach of "laughing at the audience" with the techniques he deployed (and subsequently was criticized for). This same kind of effect came over me (with varying degrees of violence) when I went through his filmography. I guess not to be long-winded here... his approach, his themes, world-view, all encompassed in these films definitely made their mark on me and made me pay close attention to what was being said... and for the most part, I was agreeing; saying to myself "Yeah, it's kind of how it is..."
I'll have to skip commenting on Benny's Video for now as I'm very tired. But I'm very curious about what you'll think of 71 Fragments.
Yes, After Lucia was another very "Hanekean" film. It's difficult for me to comment on Franco from seeing just that film (I'm very looking forward to Chronic) but all I can say from my memory of it is that it left me disgusted (not at the film). And that Franco actually deploys catharsis, whereas Haneke doesn't really give that satisfaction to the viewer which in turn makes his films and him as a very cold/cynical/nihilist filmmaker (for which he's known anyway)... and where Franco sees that for despicable acts there is (or there has to be) comeuppance. I don't know, anyway there's a lot to process and I like that about both filmmakers.
Yes, very much aware of Ulrich Seidl. My first introduction to him was Import/Export which I absolutely loved and saw before I even knew who Haneke was. In retrospect, I remember the style of that particular film was similar to Haneke. Now that you mentioned him, I'm reminded to check out that trilogy and anything else by him. Then I'll return here to post my thoughts.
Sorry, not leaving you with much to respond to. Although I will say, I've been watching films from the Berlin School lately and they owe quite a bit to Haneke stylistically, and rhythmically.
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Yes, I watched a film a day
I fear a Haneke a day would be too much for me to digest (or hold on to the last lingering thread of my sanity)...
Malick and Dardennes are both my favorites
Same here.
And the Dardennes won two Palme D'Or, like Haneke...
A Malick film is certainly a good "antidote" after watching a Haneke. It's like going for a walk in the mountains on a nice spring afternoon after 6 months spent in a submarine under the polar ice cap.
The Dardennes can be their own brand of gloomy (Seraing is one grey and depressing industrial town...) but ultimately always spiritually uplifting. The brothers, in their interviews, appear to be quite sharp too (but humble). I think it doesn't get much better than "The Son".
Had the great honour of sitting next to Jean-Pierre Dardenne during a screening of "The Deer Hunter" (presented by Cimino himself!) at the Lumiere Festival in 2013.
Unfortunately, I'm not too familiar with the Berlin school of film...
Before I forget: yet another (younger) Austrian film-maker well worth of anyone's time is Gotz Spielmann and his wonderful "Revanche" (2008).
Watched 71 Fragments yesterday.
Will have to organize my thoughts a bit more, but the impression I had while watching it was that it reminded me of Gus Van Sant's "Elephant" and Haneke's "Code Unknown". Both in the structure and reluctance to provide a single rational cause for the shooting, as well as the theme of the impossibility of communication (between the cash-transport security guard and his wife ("I love you!" *SLAP!*) the foster parents and the little girl, the vagrant Romanian kid, etc.).
And of course, as in almost all of Haneke's films, depressing TV news are omnipresent...
I found his editing at times a bit grating: cutting in the middle of a sentence several times but keeping several minutes shots of table tennis practice or express way driving at night (although with a different agenda than Tarkovsky's...).
I think I understand what he was trying to achieve there, but it still made me very conscious of the editing and of Haneke sardonically smirking behind the shoulder of his editor as he dangled the carrot above my nose while holding firm to the big stick in the other hand behind his back.
Will come back to you when I can speak of it in a more articulate and intelligent manner...
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I fear a Haneke a day would be too much for me to digest (or hold on to the last lingering thread of my sanity)...
I have this 'switch' that gets triggered in my mind. When it's on, I'm basically mentally ready for every film I have avoided/slept-on for years. The most recent time it happened to me prior to Haneke was at the end of 2013 when I watched 3-hour long films - which I have "avoided" for years - back-to-back-to-back (not in a day, but one film a day). It was the same with Haneke. The switch was just "on", so it was easy to blaze through an entire filmography like that. Although I'd have to say had I done 2 a day, it may have not been as fulfilling. With Haneke, you really need to watch minimum 1 film a day and let a day to process the information.
A Malick film is certainly a good "antidote" after watching a Haneke. It's like going for a walk in the mountains on a nice spring afternoon after 6 months spent in a submarine under the polar ice cap.
You've definitely nailed it with that description. Can't argue with that.
Unfortunately, I'm not too familiar with the Berlin school of film...
Well in that case, if you're up for it - you can get started with "My Slow Life aka Passing Summer" - that film was such an honest representation of melancholy (at least to me). Berlin School films can be tough to watch as they reject conventions - but if you're used to slow/unconventional films already, then that shouldn't be an issue for you at all.
Before I forget: yet another (younger) Austrian film-maker well worth of anyone's time is Gotz Spielmann and his wonderful "Revanche" (2008).
I've been putting off Revanche, I don't know why... since it's been on my radar the moment it was released on Criterion. I think my mind was elsewhere back in those years, I didn't really watch all the films I actually wanted to see, or had my eye on - as I wasn't mentally prepared for that type of cinema. I think I've kind of crossed a certain threshold in my film-viewing where I'm just completely "sick" of conventional cinema that I used to watch; for nostalgic reasons or for others. It's like, once you begin really focusing on very unconventional works - it's like discovering what's going to a theater to see a play is really like. If that makes sense. An entirely different way of appreciating art and what it has to offer. Maybe I'm rambling here.
Watched 71 Fragments yesterday.
Will have to organize my thoughts a bit more, but the impression I had while watching it was that it reminded me of Gus Van Sant's "Elephant" and Haneke's "Code Unknown". Both in the structure and reluctance to provide a single rational cause for the shooting, as well as the theme of the impossibility of communication (between the cash-transport security guard and his wife ("I love you!" *SLAP!*) the foster parents and the little girl, the vagrant Romanian kid, etc.).
And of course, as in almost all of Haneke's films, depressing TV news are omnipresent...
71 Fragments is definitely structurally similar to Code Unknown. Those are perhaps his only two films that share that structure while focusing on slightly different themes. Elephant I haven't seen in years so I don't remember much of it, but I trust you. Yeah the "I love you" scene definitely gave food for thought. I actually think that both of these films, because of their structure aren't too difficult to comprehend. The themes that is. To some, it may be a collection of "fragments" or dijointed scenes that have nothing to do with each other - but they all make sense. I read a book recently on Haneke right after watching his films called "Michael Haneke" (and I actually submitted a few quotes to IMDb which are now up, from this book) and Haneke said this:
"Nobody writing a novel would want to write something that claimed to understand everything that happens in the story. It's the same with film. If you want to explain something, it can only be explained through structure .... But it's always ambiguous, as opposed to narrating in a way that is always trying to explain. It's too talky and banal that way."
...which really is quite logical, and made me see cinema/narrative in an entirely new way as I haven't thought about before. And it really proves (at least to me) what I meant that both these films are really quite easy to comprehend; you CAN pull a theme out of something so 'abstractly-edited' if that's the right wording. It doesn't mean that there isn't a whole slew of other layers there, but the main 'gist' was comprehensible to me through the structure Haneke decided on. And really, the same goes for his other films.
I found his editing at times a bit grating: cutting in the middle of a sentence several times but keeping several minutes shots of table tennis practice or express way driving at night (although with a different agenda than Tarkovsky's...).
I think I understand what he was trying to achieve there, but it still made me very conscious of the editing and of Haneke sardonically smirking behind the shoulder of his editor as he dangled the carrot above my nose while holding firm to the big stick in the other hand behind his back.
Haha, totally understand - I was wondering why he'd cut in the middle of a sentence too, I had to find out what it meant in that book I already mentioned when he provided his reasons:
"...the fragmentation, I also opted for other little things like cutting during the dialogue: in the scene of the letters from the photographer, the reading is interrupted right in the middle of a word; in other sequences, a question is barely asked before the cut comes and excludes the answer. A total reality can never be seized in the cinema or in real life. We know so little!"
Maybe that was an esoteric choice only understood by Haneke, but I think it goes in sync with his other techniques.
As for the tennis scene - I too understood what he was going for and not surprisingly I consciously experienced the exact emotions Haneke outlined in this passage from the book...
"In fragment 19, for example , Haneke employs an extended long-take showing Maximilian B. practicing ping-pong against an automatic machine. Haneke himself has explained (and
in the process provided an excellent justification for the sometimes reviled long-take aesthetic) how the viewer goes through several stages watching this ultra-repetitious shot-boredom, anger, laughter-before finally starting to actually look at what is going on. "We could have shown the information (that a guy is playing against a machine) in one minute, but because it lasts so long, you understand it differently. The secret is to find the right length in imagining how I as a viewer would react to that. You say okay, then you get bored, then you get angry, you say cut, then after a certain time you start to watch it and feel its pulse. That's the right length, and it's hard to find .... That's always the secret, and it's a question of music" (Toubiana interview). Note the ongoing concern with the viewer's reaction. Even more important, the numbing repetition is also clearly meant to emphasize the boredom and repetitiveness of our everyday lives, which is, once again, the method of the film. The most uncanny moments in this fragment come when Maximilian continues to swing like an automaton, even when the machine occasionally fails to deliver a ball."
Haneke likes to do this in his films as I'm sure you're aware of, these very long takes of something mundane to illustrate this automation of life. And I quite like this "chain of emotions" that go through me when I watch these scenes - and I hope others see it the same way and are forced to "see" the true intention of them.
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Thanks for the explanations and Haneke quotes. Will have to get my hands on this book eventually...
I have this 'switch' that gets triggered in my mind. When it's on, I'm basically mentally ready for every film I have avoided/slept-on for years.
Ha! I know EX-AC-TLY what you mean. Those are great moments in the life of a cinephile. My last such experience was with Frank Perry's filmography a couple of months ago ("The Swimmer", "David & Lisa", "Doc", "Mommy Dearest"...).
Well in that case, if you're up for it - you can get started with "My Slow Life aka Passing Summer"
That's next in line then. Curious about the "Berlin School"... as I am about any film that claims (or is recognized as) belonging to a movement or school.
I think my mind was elsewhere back in those years, I didn't really watch all the films I actually wanted to see, or had my eye on - as I wasn't mentally prepared for that type of cinema. I think I've kind of crossed a certain threshold in my film-viewing where I'm just completely "sick" of conventional cinema that I used to watch; for nostalgic reasons or for others. It's like, once you begin really focusing on very unconventional works - it's like discovering what's going to a theatre to see a play is really like. If that makes sense. An entirely different way of appreciating art and what it has to offer.
I think I understand what you mean and that every cinephile is bound to pass that threshold sooner (hopefully) or later.
I think it's because film language is a complex one that can only be "acquired" rather late in life (that is, compared to spoken -or sign- languages), mostly because although it definitely has a grammar and rules, they are not as rigid and codified as that of other human languages.
Inspired and skilled directors have proven more than once that you can produce meaning while blatantly violating the established rules, which is something very few languages tolerate.
And it's only when you start to become literate in the visual language of film (the grammar of editing, choice of lensing, blocking and shot composition, etc.) that you can become aware of (as Martin Scorsese pointed out) not just what films are about but how they are about it.
And then... some films you used to love just become "guilty pleasures" or mere "good childhood memories" and you grow-up and put away childish things, as you realize most (not all) of the mainstream "production" (pardon the horrible term) is trite and lacks vision or ambition beyond that necessary for mere "filmed theatre". Often being guilty of telling instead of showing (late Nolan et al.).
But then you also come to appreciate -or at least understand the intent behind- the films that those who haven't yet passed that threshold call artsy, pretentious or [insert 90% of the adjectives used to qualify Malick's filmography or the latest Michael Mann film on IMDb here].
By the way, is filmschoolthrucommentaries your own site?
If it is: kudos and keep up the good work.
If it isn't: good thing you advertised it at the end of your posts. share
I think it's because film language is a complex one that can only be "acquired" rather late in life (that is, compared to spoken -or sign- languages), mostly because although it definitely has a grammar and rules, they are not as rigid and codified as that of other human languages.
And it's only when you start to become literate in the visual language of film (the grammar of editing, choice of lensing, blocking and shot composition, etc.) that you can become aware of (as Martin Scorsese pointed out) not just what films are about but how they are about it.
Yes. I remember watching films in high school when I was first really interested in them - and they seemed like the most complex thing in the world when I tried understanding how they're made. But once you begin to read more about film, study editing and everything that goes along with it - it's easier to comprehend films and the meaning that one can derive of them (as intended or not, by a filmmaker). And it becomes a more wholesome experience of watching a film. Although once you're aware of film language you can kind of slip into "analysis" mode when viewing things. "Oh I know why there's a long take here but why it cut so suddenly when the character left the frame / etc etc..."
And then... some films you used to love just become "guilty pleasures" or mere "good childhood memories" and you grow-up and put away childish things, as you realize most (not all) of the mainstream "production" (pardon the horrible term) is trite and lacks vision or ambition beyond that necessary for mere "filmed theatre". Often being guilty of telling instead of showing (late Nolan et al.).
Which was me for the longest time... but I was kind of all over. I was following in the footsteps of Tarantino's film-viewing, but then I realized there's no way I can take watching "crap" or re-watching a favorite film 3 times a year for nostalgic reasons, or simply stacking up "numbers" to "films I've seen" - when I could be watching something new or be picky about the types of stories, film styles that interest me and learning more about cinema that way.
But then you also come to appreciate -or at least understand the intent behind- the films that those who haven't yet passed that threshold call artsy, pretentious or [insert 90% of the adjectives used to qualify Malick's filmography or the latest Michael Mann film on IMDb here].
Exactly. I think it's a mindset that comes from maturity / experience / education. You watching a film at 15 isn't the same as you watching a film at 25; whether it's the same film or another. That word "pretentious" does get thrown around quite a bit describing the types of filmmakers you've mentioned (and anyone like them) whenever something or someone breaks all sorts of conventions (and I'll admit I've used 'pretentious' quite a bit thoughtlessly too). But I like what Haneke says about this:
"The mainstream cinema tries to feed you the idea that there are solutions, but that's *beep* You can make a lot of money with these lies. But if you take the viewer seriously as your partner, the only thing that you can do is to put the questions strongly. In this case, maybe he will find some answer. If you give the answer, you lie. Whatever kind of security you try to feed somebody is an illusion .... I want to make it clear: it's not that I hate mainstream cinema. It's perfectly fine. There are a lot of people who need to escape, because they are in very difficult situations .... But this has nothing to do with an art form. An art form is obliged to confront reality, to try to find a little piece of the truth .... These questions, "What is reality?" and "What is reality in a movie?" are a main part of my work."
By the way, is filmschoolthrucommentaries your own site?
Yes, but I rarely update it anymore. It was going to expand last year, but everything fell through. So my efforts in keeping it updated often waned.
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Watched “My Slow Life” yesterday.
It was an interesting watch and there are indeed plenty of directorial similarities with the Austrian films we mentioned in our discussion (long static shots, no non-diegetic music, unobtrusive editing, naturalistic performances…).
Without having had time to give it too much thought, I’d say the film for me was about the existential solitude of “remaining alone in the frame when everyone else has left”, both literally (as many scenes end up with lingering shots of characters left alone with their thoughts after everybody else has left the frame) and metaphorically (people left alone to experience, feel and ponder the consequences of various events that all happen off-screen: sex, abortion, extra-marital affairs, dying in a hospital, failing to start a new life in Rome, being kicked out of your apartment by your girlfriend or your future brother-in-law, etc.).
Those times when there is no one else left to pretend to and you can take the real measure of your existence.
It reminded me of a line by Johnny (David Thewlis) in Mike Leigh’s “Naked“: “It's funny being inside isn’t it? 'Cos when you’re inside, you’re still actually outside aren't you? And then you can say when you're outside, you're inside because you're always inside your head. Do you follow that?”.
I think the only moment when two characters are actually sharing their head-spaces, is during the extensive dance scene in the club. But then again, in the same scene a third character – the little girl – is actually watching them dance from a distance. Alone in her head.
I like it when a director relies on lengthy close shots of underplaying and otherwise silent actors’ faces to convey the essence of a scene, like that of the little girl watching the dancers in the club (the lengthy shot of DeNiro listening to one of his protégés' confession of past abuse in “Sleepers” comes to mind, or Olivier in “The Son”...).
The Dardennes brothers I think are Grand Masters in that discipline.
Watched “My Slow Life” yesterday.
Well that was quick! Glad you watched it. That was probably my favorite Berlin School film out of the 20 or so that I've seen thus far... until last night when it took second place to "The Days Between" by Maria Speth. A film I absolutely loved for a variety of reasons. Its beautiful cinematography, its story, rhythm. It takes conventional continuity style and blends it with the slow pacing in a way that creates this perfect hybrid of aesthetics. Where you get just enough of both styles and don't entirely alienate the viewer by being too esoteric about what you're trying to say/make a film about. I think if Maria Speth's "Madonnen" and "Töchter" continue to carry this film form, then she'll become my number 1 filmmaker from the Berlin School film movement. This book I'm reading on the movement proclaimed that Christian Petzold "hybridized" conventional with the slow (much like Fassbinder - as the book compared him to; whose films I haven't watched though) but I haven't seen enough of Petzold's films yet to say it successfully blended the two. "The Days Between" and my only viewing of it last night had way more impact on this hybridization than the 3-4 Petzold films I've seen. I recommend you make that your second viewing! PS; this film solidifies that Reinhold Vorschneider is one of the greatest DPs coming out of Germany/Berlin School movement. He's shot a couple of films I've already seen and I can confidently say this.
Without having had time to give it too much thought, I’d say the film for me was about the existential solitude of “remaining alone in the frame when everyone else has left”, both literally (as many scenes end up with lingering shots of characters left alone with their thoughts after everybody else has left the frame) and metaphorically (people left alone to experience, feel and ponder the consequences of various events that all happen off-screen: sex, abortion, extra-marital affairs, dying in a hospital, failing to start a new life in Rome, being kicked out of your apartment by your girlfriend or your future brother-in-law, etc.).
Those times when there is no one else left to pretend to and you can take the real measure of your existence.
Very interesting observation, you've articulated it quite well; better than me - which came down to one generalization - "melancholy" hehe. Actually the book I'm reading on the movement commented on the precise nature of these long stretches of time when the frame would hold long after the characters left it ...
"Offering an itinerary of filmic strategies employed by Berlin School directors, Kristin Kopp describes the films’ sparse, often uncommunicative dialogue, the de-emphasizing of traditional character development, and the films’ tendency toward the appearance of ‘nonacting’ whereby their actors seem to ‘engage in everyday activities from their own milieu as if there were no camera present.’ Along these lines, the directors of the films studied throughout the pages of this volume might linger on their protagonists longer than would be necessary to deliver narrative information, or,
similarly, they might continue filming an empty space even after all the characters have disappeared from the frame. They are more interested in the forms through which their characters’ lives are lived, specifically the form as it is made manifest in the gestures their characters adopt, the means by which they (fail to) communicate, and the environments with which they surround themselves. Many of the films’ directors are taking the measure of their world as though they were eyeing it through a scientist’s apparatus, inquiring into why their characters live as they do, and taking pains to avoid the appearance of omniscience. They reduce their own role to that of an objective, even disembodied observer, even though their images often evoke a decidedly embodied response from the viewer. Although these films never achieve quite that ultimate degree of narrative minimalism, they frequently experiment with approaching it. Similarly, when it comes to the films’ mostly modern German and Austrian surroundings — the milieus of their mostly middle-class subjects — key elements recur. Again and again cars, pools, and hotels are the major components of these characters’ worlds in which the slow-paced events can be said to unfold. They comprise the strange terrain of the contemporary West, and they too are subject to unyielding scrutiny."
and maybe this quote
"What does it mean to say that the Berlin School’s politics are
predicated on provocative disjunctions of sound and image? That such
images are disjunctive and that they do not wrap things up for the viewer
is precisely the point. To examine a paradigmatic case, one could look at
Angela Schanelec’s cinematic frames. Schanelec wants viewers to linger
long on her compositions and in this way she issues a challenge: we are
meant to scrutinize her frames for that which we do not see—to react to
the cinematic equivalent of negative space.23 The viewer has to ask, ‘What
is not there?’ and furthermore, ‘Why do I feel as though she is showing me
more nothing than something?’ In this sense the images resist being mere
hermeneutic conveyors of information. We look for what is missing, and
her sparse and slowly-changing frames thus function as overt reminders
that we are the sites at which the films take place; in other words, the
spectator’s presence completes the film. The approach offers a deliberate
contrast with films that would boast that their action takes place entirely
on screen—the idealized mode of ‘action’ cinema."
I think the only moment when two characters are actually sharing their head-spaces, is during the extensive dance scene in the club. But then again, in the same scene a third character – the little girl – is actually watching them dance from a distance. Alone in her head.
Another really well spotted observation!
I like it when a director relies on lengthy close shots of underplaying and otherwise silent actors’ faces to convey the essence of a scene, like that of the little girl watching the dancers in the club (the lengthy shot of DeNiro listening to one of his protégés' confession of past abuse in “Sleepers” comes to mind, or Olivier in “The Son”...).
The Dardennes brothers I think are Grand Masters in that discipline.
I know what you mean. But if you continue watching films from the Berlin School (I started with this list http://letterboxd.com/sedna/list/moma-the-berlin-school-films-from-the-berliner/ and here's a list from the book I'm reading on the movement http://letterboxd.com/sedna/list/berlin-school-glossary-an-abc-of-the-new/) then you'll see that sometimes scenes will be in a long static shot, but there will only be a very brief close-up which underlines. I really like this approach, specifically because it's the total opposite of Hollywood's / continuity style's overuse of close-ups "to emphasize".
I'm going to make sure to watch the films you've mentioned; Naked, Sleepers. And I got my hands on Spledl's Paradise Trilogy along with Dog Days. Should I watch Dog Days first?
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Thanks for a thorough and very informative reply.
I'll get back to you when I've digested all this information but wanted to give a quick reply first so you don't waste your time: "Sleepers" (Barry Levinson, 1996) is by no means a film I'd recommend watching within the context of our discussion.
Not that it's an awful film (there's that one scene with DeNiro I mentioned that is a compendium of under-acting and subtle progressive facial expression shifts, and then there's some pleasant Dustin Hoffman in it too...) but otherwise it's as mainstream Hollywood as it gets.
Now "Naked", as far as I'm concerned, is Mike Leigh's masterpiece but, again, except for that one quote by the main protagonist, I'm not exactly sure either if its relevant to our conversation with regards to contemporary Austrian and Berlin school film makers.
But, well, it's simply a masterpiece of improvisation and end-of-millenium cinema that can most certainly "out-gloomy" even the toughest Austrian film maker out there!
As for Seidl, I'd say "Dog Days" is a good place to start. Then I'd say "Love" is the best way to enter his Paradise trilogy.
"Revanche", if I may insist, I'd really recommend. Very relevant to our discussion and the quotes you shared about lingering empty shots.
By the way, are you familiar with contemporary Japanese cinema (Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Naomi Kawase, Takashi Miike, Shion Sono, Hirokazu Kore-eda...)? There's some very interesting stuff there regarding empty frames and the treatment of space.
I'll get back to you when I've digested all this information but wanted to give a quick reply first so you don't waste your time: "Sleepers" (Barry Levinson, 1996) is by no means a film I'd recommend watching within the context of our discussion.
Not that it's an awful film (there's that one scene with DeNiro I mentioned that is a compendium of under-acting and subtle progressive facial expression shifts, and then there's some pleasant Dustin Hoffman in it too...) but otherwise it's as mainstream Hollywood as it gets.
Oh I'm aware. I've actually wanted to check it out for quite a few years but never really had the urge. Speaking of Barry Levinson though, I've recently rewatched "Sphere" after almost a decade. It gets a lot of flack, but I thought as far as the psychological thriller nature of it, it had good moments. It certainly had food for thought concerning its main theme.
Now "Naked", as far as I'm concerned, is Mike Leigh's masterpiece but, again, except for that one quote by the main protagonist, I'm not exactly sure either if its relevant to our conversation with regards to contemporary Austrian and Berlin school film makers.
But, well, it's simply a masterpiece of improvisation and end-of-millenium cinema that can most certainly "out-gloomy" even the toughest Austrian film maker out there!
I'll watch that this week and come back with my thoughts. I'm aware of the film, but know nothing about it other than it's on Criterion.
As for Seidl, I'd say "Dog Days" is a good place to start. Then I'd say "Love" is the best way to enter his Paradise trilogy.
Very good then. With the Paradise Trilogy I'll go in order of release. Curious about Dog Days now, I read that it was filmed during hottest days in the summer. That must've affected the actors in the most brutal ways as far as "method acting" goes?
"Revanche", if I may insist, I'd really recommend. Very relevant to our discussion and the quotes you shared about lingering empty shots.
Oh definitely will. The director has a new film out as well which I'm very interested in. He seems like a director to watch.
By the way, are you familiar with contemporary Japanese cinema (Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Naomi Kawase, Takashi Miike, Shion Sono, Hirokazu Kore-eda...)? There's some very interesting stuff there regarding empty frames and the treatment of space
It's interesting you mention Asian filmmakers. It got me thinking yesterday about how I watched a TIFF lecture with David Bordwell about Hou Hsao-hsien's film style - and I realized that other than Tarkovsky, the slow, static-shot cinema really originated with Hou and Asian cinema. Predating the likes of Haneke, or Berlin School or Romanian New Wave by decades. And it makes sense I guess, due to the 'meditative' nature of that region of the world (again I'm not mentioning Tarkovsky but he definitely contributes to this 'meditative cinema' in a major way)
As for the filmmakers you've mentioned. I've only seen "The Mourning Forest" from Kawase (which I probably wasn't in the right mood for when I did see it) and "Audition / Ichi The Killer" from Miike. Only heard of Koreeda recently but haven't seen anything from the rest. I should though, I think I'm building up to that region once I'm finished with my contemporary European film movements.
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Speaking of Barry Levinson though, I've recently rewatched "Sphere" after almost a decade. It gets a lot of flack, but I thought as far as the psychological thriller nature of it, it had good moments. It certainly had food for thought concerning its main theme.
Well, "Solyaris" it is not, but for a film with some shared superficial themes, it was entertaining indeed... Know what? I think I'll actually re-watch this one soon too.
The director has a new film out as well which I'm very interested in. He seems like a director to watch.
Yes! I've been trying to watch "Oktober November" for the past 3 years but could never find a copy or a theatre screening, and that's pretty frustrating.
It's interesting you mention Asian filmmakers. It got me thinking yesterday about how I watched a TIFF lecture with David Bordwell about Hou Hsao-hsien's film style - and I realized that other than Tarkovsky, the slow, static-shot cinema really originated with Hou and Asian cinema. Predating the likes of Haneke, or Berlin School or Romanian New Wave by decades. And it makes sense I guess, due to the 'meditative' nature of that region of the world (again I'm not mentioning Tarkovsky but he definitely contributes to this 'meditative cinema' in a major way)
I'm personally quite reluctant to identify any such thing as "Asian Cinema", since Japanese, Chinese and Korean cinemas (etc.) are in my opinion very different beasts (those countries having a different History, different aesthetics, different experiences of the war, etc.).
For exemple, you would find contemporary Japanese cinema to be obsessed with the questions of identity and amnesia (a repressed traumatic past coming back to haunt the present and violently demanding acknowledgement -the most popular example of which probably being the film "Ringu"- as a symptom of post-war Japan having rushed headlong into a miraculous economic reconstruction at the price of a psychological tabula rasa of its aggressive and bellicose past) as well as the existential solitude within the constant information flux of the "perpetual-present" of hyper-modern societies.
As far as static shots are concerned though, Ozu Yasujiro should make you a happy cinephile! No more than a handful of tracking shots in a filmography of more than 50 films (and he predates Hou Hsiao-Hsien by almost 40 years), but that's not exactly contemporary cinema.
As for the film makers you've mentioned. I've only seen "The Mourning Forest" from Kawase (which I probably wasn't in the right mood for when I did see it) and "Audition / Ichi The Killer" from Miike. Only heard of Koreeda recently but haven't seen anything from the rest. I should though, I think I'm building up to that region once I'm finished with my contemporary European film movements.
I believe you're right: one thing at a time.
But when you're ready for it (or if you feel like travelling a little and taking a short break!) I very heartily recommend "Sharasôju" (2003) from Kawase. It's a small treasure of slow moving and contemplative cinema which also happens to feature one of the most cathartic sequence ever committed to film in my opinion (you'll know which one when -and if- you see it!).
Now Miike is a very VERY prolific director, but a dissipated one with a propensity to be all over the place. He was an assistant to the Master Imamura Shohei but has, shall we say, "gone astray" and can often be a somewhat less than subtle iconoclast. Still, when he is in good form he has unparalleled insight into contemporary Japanese culture and is absolutely fearless.
Just need to watch the first couple of minutes of his absolutely crazy film "Izo" (2004 - an obscure real-life historical assassin from the last years of the shogunate is hurled through post-war and contemporary Japan as he massacres every institution or symbol of authority, education, family, etc. that crosses his path) to understand the psychological foundations of contemporary Japan.
Koreeda Hirokazu is a gentle, gentle and ever so subtle film-maker that has also entered the Criterion Collection (with "Still Walking"). I'd recommend his film "After Life" (1998) for a glimpse of his very effective (and moving) use of documentary techniques serving a fictional narration about cinema and memory.
And of course "Cure" (1997) from Kurosawa Kiyoshi, which is a fascinating piece of existential horror cinema (on par with "Lost Highway", another 1997 film) that lingers in the mind for a long, long time. Really can't miss that one.
Back to the Berlin Film School: I'm having a hard time finding a satisfying copy of "The Days Between" so I'll watch "The Forest for the Tree" (Maren Ade, 2003) in the meantime... share
I have to digest your Asian Cinema comments - a lot of food for thought. I'm taking note of the films mentioned, so I'll have to reserve commenting until I see some of the ones I haven't. Very interesting comments on Miike.
Berlin School: If you can get your hands on "In den Tag hinein" at some point - I definitely urge you to do so. Check out your local libraries, or maybe at some point - buy. But it IS kind of expensive - must be because it's rare in the West.
"The Forest for the Trees" was an interesting film, I really liked it for its focus on a character devoid of social cues and her desperate wish to 'fit in' with the type of people she probably shouldn't even be with in the first place. The title of the film says it all. It's my third favorite film of the movement.
I did see Dog Days - and it brought me back to how I felt with Irreversible. I'm not saying the two films are exactly alike - but it was the same 'gut-punch' feeling I felt during and after watching it. There's so much to process, so much hinted at and unsaid - yet it makes sense. It brought back memories of Import/Export as well.
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Sorry for the late reply... wanted to answer after having watched "In den Tag Hinein" but still can't seem to get my hands on a decent copy (the one I had was too awful to watch, unfortunately).
I have to digest your Asian Cinema comments - a lot of food for thought.
Yes, I’ve strayed quite a bit off topic here… Discussion about “Code Unknown” has brought us a long way.
But if you ever watch any of those Japanese films, please do let me know what you think. I’d be curious to hear the opinion of someone familiar with the Berlin School. After all, these are all films from the same time period, from two countries that were defeated during the war and managed to rise back to prominence in their respective part of the world a mere 50 years after they were reduced to a heap of ruins. Wouldn't be too surprised to find they shared some common qualities...
I shall be running into you mid-way on this road, going the other way!
I did see Dog Days - and it brought me back to how I felt with Irreversible. I'm not saying the two films are exactly alike - but it was the same 'gut-punch' feeling I felt during and after watching it.
I think the only other film that gut-punched me as hard as “Irreversible” did was another French film called “Martyrs” (Pascal Laugier, 2008) which is considered a part of the French Horror New Wave (itself part of the New French Extremity movement… this propensity to systematically fit films into a wider movement or aesthetic school seems a bit silly at times – especially when some of the so called members refuse to acknowledge affiliation themselves – but I suppose it’s always reassuring to arrange and categorize things, at the risk of being somewhat reductive).
Reflecting on my previous reluctance to identify such a thing as “Asian cinema”, I think it’s interesting to see how different Austrian and German cinemas also are, close neighbours though they are.
While acknowledging that I’ve by no means seen enough of these films to have a representative sample, I feel like the Austrian films I’ve seen so far are definitely more austere and self-loathing than the German films. Wonder if that has anything to do with the mostly Roman Catholic roots of Austria compared to the stronger Protestant influence in Germany....
The Berlin School seems more interested in formal investigation of the medium, whereas the Austrian films seem definitely more concerned by plot as well as societal and moral topics.
"The Forest for the Trees" was an interesting film, I really liked it for its focus on a character devoid of social cues and her desperate wish to 'fit in' with the type of people she probably shouldn't even be with in the first place. The title of the film says it all. It's my third favorite film of the movement.
Finally watched it too.
It was definitely less interested in formal exploration than "My Slow Life" was, though there were some interesting and unorthodox editing choices at times too (thinking about a telephone conversation scene between the protagonist and her mother in particular...). It was more character driven at any rate.
The main protagonist is in every shot and we only know what she knows, from her point of view (whereas the camera in "My Slow Life" was more interested in space).
I liked that this approach was sustained and carried-out with a lot of integrity throughout the film: once the protagonist has left the frame after having intruded on other people's lives and far outstayed her welcome (though oblivious to it herself), we're never privy to reaction shots of the remaining people (rolling their eyes, commenting on her behaviour, etc.) because she isn't either.
No Hollywood film here would have resisted the urge to make us momentarily accomplices to these people and force us to switch point of view.
No one can say of Maren Ade that she has no respect or love for her protagonist!
Also, contrary to the Austrian films I've seen so far, it seems like the Berlin School films have no need for an antagonist and that all the characters are mostly well-meaning (except the children perhaps in "Forest for the Trees"... which actually *does* kind of remind me of Haneke's "Benny's video" and "The White Ribbon").
Anyway, thanks for introducing me to those films. Will be proceeding with my exploration...
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Oh yeah, you gotta see that film in good quality. I'd say hold off on it and instead I could give you my list of some of my favorites from the movement thus far that you can watch instead.
I think the only other film that gut-punched me as hard as “Irreversible” did was another French film called “Martyrs”
Good call. I remember having that exact reaction of witnessing something that physically made my insides turn. Am aware of that movement. I've seen a couple from them.
Reflecting on my previous reluctance to identify such a thing as “Asian cinema”, I think it’s interesting to see how different Austrian and German cinemas also are, close neighbours though they are.
While acknowledging that I’ve by no means seen enough of these films to have a representative sample, I feel like the Austrian films I’ve seen so far are definitely more austere and self-loathing than the German films. Wonder if that has anything to do with the mostly Roman Catholic roots of Austria compared to the stronger Protestant influence in Germany....
The Berlin School seems more interested in formal investigation of the medium, whereas the Austrian films seem definitely more concerned by plot as well as societal and moral topics.
Interesting you mention the differences... this calls to mind something I read in that book about Haneke... here's a passage that kind of relates to this.
Moving back to the specific events of Benny's Video, Haneke tells Toubiana that Benny's decision to show the film to his parents has, once again, several possible motivations. "On the one hand, perhaps it's out of fear, an inability to speak about it, but at the same time it's a gigantic provocation . . . . How do you react if your child shows you this act? That makes it more real [to the audience] than when [we] saw the act itself .... You're shocked the first time, but I was much more upset the second time, when the parents watch it."
At this point, the father takes over and attempts to buck up the failing spirits of his tremulous wife. Like any good, optimistic bourgeois, he is filled with a kind of can-do, ultra-rational spirit, which-though he claims several times that he too is doubtful about what course they should take never considers ethical or moral issues and sees everything in practical, purely technical terms. In this way, it's similar to the Pentagon Papers that were leaked to the New York Times during the Vietnam War. As with these papers that considered strategies for conducting the war, Benny's father's only thought is, "How can we most expeditiously deal with this situation that confronts us?" It's clear that Haneke is also offering a disguised but real critique of the kind of technocratic thinking that could eventuate in the unthinkable-the Holocaust, and, in more specific terms, Austria's ongoing refusal to confront its part in that immense tragedy.
Haneke tells Toubiana that when the film premiered in Vienna, people asked only mundane technical questions. "At one point, I said, 'Don't you want to talk about this Austrian habit of sweeping unpleasant things under the carpet?' Total silence. After a very long pause, they started to ask me nonsense questions again. Everywhere else, the first question wasn't about the video and all that, it was about Austria's past. That was strange, and it surprised me a great deal. Or, rather, it confirmed for me that I was right to talk about it."
Also just to respond to the last part of your sentence. I don't think all Berlin School films just explore the form, I've noticed that not all the films from the movement share that focus. I'd say mainly it's Angela Schanelec who's the most "slowest" of them all which brings me to...
...The main protagonist is in every shot and we only know what she knows, from her point of view (whereas the camera in "My Slow Life" was more interested in space).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GkUA6jG2eho
Berlin School as basically every film movement is very much interested in human lives. And looking at it from an aesthetic point of view - it's kind of as similar as the minimalism of Romanian New Wave, or Asian cinema / Taiwanese New Wave / etc... although I probably am prematurely making these comparisons based on how little I've seen of Romanian New Wave / Asian cinema. I guess the point I'm trying to make is that it's almost that any of these 'movements' for me, the link that connects them all is the form - which breaks all Hollywood / Continuity style conventions and concentrates on being as less cinematically engineered and slow as possible. In a way, what's "unconventional" with many of these movements is already its own convention. Which is something that I personally find interesting when I hear people straight up watching Arthouse and badmouthing or entirely rejecting films that are "conventional"
I kind of got into a different topic about form here, but to get back to it - do watch that interview, you spotted that "space" connection and indeed Schanelec talks about it - I think she constructs scenes and films around "the spaces in which people are occupied" but once again, not all Berlin School filmmakers are about that or the form. They just don't follow "continuity style".
Ok I'll stop here as to not make things more confusing.
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Yes, I'd be interested in your list of Berlin School films you'd recommend watching, thanks!
Thanks for the link to Schanelec's interview too. Informative...
See you around on these boards then!
Ok so for starters... try the following - these films I liked the most out of the 21 or so films I've watched. I'm not including the ones you've already seen or will see; Days Between for instance.
Robber (2010)
In The Shadows (2010)
Windows on Monday (2006)
Barbara (2012)
Orly (2010)
Afternoon (2007)
Hotel (2006) - actually this is Austrian and technically isn't *part* of the movement, but as far as film form goes - it's very good. And it should be mentioned that Jessica Hausner is kind of a Haneke protege (being a script girl on Funny Games and all)
The State I'm In (2000)
I myself have 16 more to go - if I can get my hands on them - they're really rare outside of Europe. So the aforementioned list isn't conclusive. But they are films I consider to be "best" from what I have seen.
I am very anxious to see Maria Speth's "Madonnen" and "Daughters" based on how much I loved "The Days Between" and its film style/form. Stylistically she actually seems to drastically change her filming approach in Madonnen... being way more Dardennes influenced handheld realism (if what I read is true) and I'm not sure what the style like is with "Daughters" at all.
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