Showing posts with label Haneke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Haneke. Show all posts

Friday, November 21, 2025

The Piano Teacher (2001)

La pianiste, France / Austria / Germany, 131 minutes
Director: Michael Haneke
Writers: Michael Haneke, Elfriede Jelinek
Photography: Christian Berger
Music: Franz Schubert
Editors: Nadine Muse, Monika Willi
Cast: Isabelle Huppert, Annie Girardot, Benoit Magimel, Anna Sigalevitch, Susanne Lothar, Udo Samel

The Piano Teacher was something of a sensation at the time of its release. It won awards from Cannes and elsewhere, often highlighting the performances of Isabelle Huppert as Erika Kohut, the sexualized, delusional piano teacher, and Benoit Magimel as Walter Klemmer, her talented student and lover (if that’s the right word). Erika is nearing middle age and lives a kind of bohemian life, a gifted pianist in her own right, who particularly loves Schubert and gives lessons to get by, but with an unusual way of life. She still lives with her mother, but she has a compulsive, adventurous private life, where fantasy and reality bleed into one another. We see her visiting some kind of discreet, semi-classy porn store, where she gets a private stall to watch a selection of videos. She finds a used tissue in the trash and holds it to her nose while she watches. Presumably some previous patron shot his load into it.

There’s more. We see her cutting herself in the bathroom, hanging out at a drive-in theater to peep people having sex in their cars—she squats down to masturbate, is caught, and must hurry away. She puts broken glass into the coat pocket of a student who suffers intense anxiety. Why is she doing these things? It’s possible they are in the original novel by Nobel prize winner Elfriede Jelinek, also called The Piano Teacher in translation—I don’t know it. But they also fit with various extremities by director and cowriter Michael Haneke, who seems prone to them, or certainly did in about this period, bracketed by the two virtually identical versions of his curious creep show Funny Games, one from 1997 and the second from 2007. Enter Walter Klemmer, an exceptional young pianist but an arrogant, immature young man, who represents much that Erika thinks she wants.

Friday, January 08, 2021

Amour (2012)

Austria / France / Germany, 127 minutes
Director/writer: Michael Haneke
Photography: Darius Khondji
Music: Franz Schubert
Editors: Nadine Muse, Monika Willi
Cast: Emmanuelle Riva, Jean-Louis Trintignant, Isabelle Huppert

As the familiar old saw has it, gettin' old ain't for sissies—and neither is Amour, for all its trappings of genteel upper/middle-classmanship. Here we find a family whose bread and butter are meticulous piano recitals of Schubert. Director and writer Michael Haneke often seems to feel most comfortable inside such affluence, with a side order of intellectually cultivated, but perversely he also likes to afflict the comfortable in his pictures with undermining elements of horror: the home invasion thrill killers in Funny Games, a mysterious stalker in Cache (and a premise that rhymes with the first half of David Lynch's Lost Highway), those kids from Village of the Damned appearing as proto-Nazis in The White Ribbon. It seems a bit boorish to bring the implicit screams and gore world of horror even into the kindly realm of Grandma and Grandpa and the end of life, and it's true that Haneke might well be at his absolute coldest in this picture. But that doesn't mean he isn't telling the truth about life and death and aging.

I'm not as sure that stocking it all up with stars from the heroic age of the art film is the best idea. But certainly at least it brings a lot of raw talent and skill to the show along with the mediated distance of art film movie stars. Between them, Emmanuelle Riva and Jean-Louis Trintignant appeared in Hiroshima mon amour (1959), My Night at Maud's (1969), and The Conformist (1970), as well as two pictures in Krysztof Kieslowski’s Three Colors trilogy, plus many others (whole major careers!), though the only picture they made together previously was an obscure Italian portmanteau comedy from 1965, I Kill, You Kill. Isabelle Huppert as their daughter has of course been blazing her own later trail in cinema since the '80s. These players are dazzling in their abilities and courage, notably Riva (who died in 2017), and they were amply rewarded in praise. Amour won enough awards (over 80, including an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film) that even a blind horse would have to squint looking in its direction. Inevitably all that also brings a certain amount of glamorous baggage that is somehow naggingly distracting when you actually go to watch the thing. (Spoilers ahead.)

Friday, September 19, 2014

Caché (2005)

Hidden, France / Austria / Germany / Italy / USA, 117 minutes
Director/writer: Michael Haneke
Photography: Christian Berger
Editors: Michael Hudecek, Nadine Muse
Cast: Daniel Auteuil, Juliette Binoche, Maurice Bénichou, Annie Girardot, Bernard Le Coq, Walid Afkir, Lester Makedonsky, Daniel Duval, Nathalie Richard, Denis Podalydès, Aïssa Maïga

Written and directed by Michael Haneke, released in the UK under the name Hidden, and formally taking on the qualities of a thriller, it can't come as much surprise that Caché is a bit of a puzzle-box movie. In fact, in its premise, it bears a remarkable resemblance to another puzzle-box movie of eight years earlier, David Lynch's Lost Highway. Georges and Anne Laurent (played by Daniel Auteuil and Juliette Binoche) are an upper middle class Parisian couple with an adolescent son—smug bourgeoisie, not to put too fine a point on it. They begin to experience a subtle form of harassment. Someone is leaving videotapes accompanied by grotesque and cryptic drawings on their doorstep. The videotapes show hours of the exterior of their home, a static image shot from a stationary camera, with occasional traffic and pedestrians passing across the frame—even Georges himself at one point, who can't remember ever seeing a camera. The pictures show figures with blood.

The mystery is mostly irrelevant in the strategy of the movie, but I will register the usual point about spoilers. It doesn't take long before Georges figures out what it's about, and what really lies at the center of this story: relations between his family of origin and an Algerian couple they hired as servants. The couple disappeared in a historical atrocity now known as the "Paris massacre of 1961." In the backstory of Caché the result is that Georges's family is left with the couple's orphaned son, Majid, who is about Georges's age. At first they make plans to take custody of him but a 6-year-old Georges resents the intrusion on his place in the family and makes up stories about Majid that may or may not have resulted in Majid being "sent away," to an obviously inferior fate.

Friday, February 24, 2012

The White Ribbon (2009)

Das weiße Band: Eine deutsche Kindergeschichte, Germany/Austria/France/Italy, 144 minutes
Director/writer: Michael Haneke
Photography: Christian Berger
Editor: Monika Willi
Cast: Christian Friedel, Ernst Jacobi, Leonie Benesch, Ulrich Tukur, Ursina Lardi, Fion Mutert, Burghart Klaußner, Steffi Kühnert, Maria-Victoria, Leonard Proxauf, Josef Bierbichler, Gabriela Maria Schmeide, Janina Fautz, Enno Trebs, Theo Trebs, Rainer Bock, Roxane Duran, Susanne Lothar

It's not so surprising that veteran director and writer Michael Haneke has erected a scene and setting for The White Ribbon that is rich with allusion and evocative suggestion. That's pretty much business as usual for him, hefting oversize significance out of the quotidian with a surprising and deceptive lack of effort, as seen in such earlier pictures as Funny Games, The Piano Teacher, or especially Cache. What's surprising is where he appears inclined to take it here, spinning a story that is equal parts Village of the Damned and the whole of Ingmar Bergman's oeuvre, a stark, spooky, demon-seed tale, never settling into anything certain, forcing us instead to take the pieces and attempt to put them together ourselves into anything larger.

In a small farming village in Germany shortly before World War I something is terribly wrong. The doctor suffers an accident when the horse he is riding takes a fall as the result of tripping on a wire strung between two posts of a gate. A worker's wife dies in accident; her death leads to her family's ruin. The baron's son is kidnapped and brutally caned and left hanging upside down with his pants at his ankles. A barn burns to the ground. These events are oppressively sinister, individually and taken together. They seem slightly more than accidents, but no one happens to know any such monsters so no one has any idea who to blame. The fragile emotional ecosystem of the villagers, among their various classes and interrelations, begins to rot under the suspicion.