Haneke Love?

I haven't made much of a secret about the fact that I quite like Michael Haneke (see here and here), and it was with a great deal of expectation that I chugged myself off to see his latest The White Ribbon, thrilled to find that it was still playing in cinemas after I somehow managed to completely miss the fact that it released, oh, four months or so ago, despite the fact that I've been hanging out for it since it won the Palme d'Or back in May last year, beating A Prophet down to the Grand Prix (which has got to be one of my favourite films of my hundred odd so far in this marathon.)

The White Ribbon takes place in a small German town in the lead up to the outbreak of WWI. It's quite a difficult film to describe the plot of without either giving too much away, or becoming incredibly verbose. It is effectively a microcosm of society and humanity - there are powerful beings who show heart, innocent beings who (perhaps) show malice, death, love, destruction, hope and sorrow. A pastor is cruel to his children. A baron show sympathy for someone who destroys his crop. A doctor molests his daughter and abuses his mistress. But, in true Haneke style, they all have opposing forces of good or evil playing out within them. And the narrative is plagued by strange, dangerous things happening - a wire strung between trees tripping the doctor's horse as he rides home; the baron's son being strung up and tortured; the pastor's pet bird being impaled. Is it the children?


The film is black and white, shot by Christian Berger, who also lensed Hidden and The Piano Teacher and picked up an Oscar nomination and just took home the ACS award for his work. While much of the work is great, I thought the fact that it was shot colour and then monochromed in post detrimentally affected the quality of the visual tone - the blacks seemed a little brown, the shadows not as sharp as I really think they should have been. I've done this before myself, and I have never thought it looks as good as when you shoot it black and white, so I'm actually a little puzzled as to all the notice... and I should note that I only found out that it was shot colour after making this opinion of the look, so it's not a situation where I went into the film with my opinion coloured (boom boom.)


The acting was fairly fantastic from all of the cast, especially the children, many of whom were quite young. Haneke kept them all in check, reigning them in to fit the familial and social sensibility of the day - emotional externalisation wasn't really the norm in the early 1910s. 


But still... I actually thought when I emerged from the darkened theatre that something might have gone over my head, maybe I don't know enough about European history at the time and there was some important subtext that I didn't understand. This may be the case, or I might not have been paying enough attention to the subtleties, or I might actually just be stupid. But I'm familiar with Haneke's work - maybe that was it. I know I was waiting for something confronting, a shocking scene, that never quite came, and this may have tempered my ability to be overly confronted by what was going on bit by bit, which in retrospect is quite full on.


Actually, writing this now, I really want to see the film again. I'm going to give it 3.5 stars for now, because that's where I'm hovering, but when it hits DVD I'll check it out and maybe my opinion will change. Today, though, I'm hoping for an Audiard win for The Prophet on Sunday, though apparently the smart money is on Argentinean entry The Secret In Their Eyes, which I have not yet seen.

Prophetic.

It appears to be neck and neck this year for the Best Foreign Language Oscar between France's Un Prophète (A Prophet) and Germany's Das Weisse Band (The White Ribbon), from Michael Haneke - I'm hoping to catch the latter over the next week as I only just realised it released here last November and somehow managed to slip by my radar, which has been hanging for it since it took out the Palme d'Or. This two-horse race of course means that something completely different will pull through for the win, though sadly not Samson And Delilah, which didn't follow through on its shortlisting to the nomination stage.


I caught director Jacques Audiard's previous picture The Beat That My Heart Skipped (I'm dead certain that it was released as The Beat My Heart Skipped in Australia, which I think sounds soooo much better) back when it was out and about in 2005 and thoroughly enjoyed it. It was responsible for my infatuation with Romain Duris, in fact. I recall taking issue with a few points, but I think I gave it four stars at the time. His follow up, which took the Grand Prix at Cannes last year, I can't fault.

Un Prophète is the story of petty criminal Malik (Tahar Rahim), sentenced to a half dozen years in prison. French-born but an Arab by heritage, he falls in with the Corsican gang who run the Parisian prison he finds himself in. The Corsicans, led by César Luciani (Niels Arestrup), need someone to take out an informer in prison briefly, and call upon Malik, who has absolutely no desire to take part but is told in no uncertain terms that he has no option - now that he knows of the plan, either he does Ryad or the Corsicans do him. Once the job is done, however, he finds himself part of the Corsican gang, initially just doing their dirty work (literally - he makes them coffee and cleans up after them), but eventually, as the majority of the Corsicans are transferred to another prison, becoming right hand man and confidante to Luciani. 


Meanwhile, the Arab contingent is building itself up, not willing to take more shit from the weakened Corsican faction in the prison. Yes, the Corsicans did once own the guards, but as they become fewer it starts to be the Arabs who are wielding more power. Malik, not one to be left out in the cold, is consorting with a few select inmates to run a small drug trade, which, on day leave as his sentence nears completion, whilst still running errands for Luciani, he converts into a powerful cartel using old Corsican contacts and another ex-inmate Reyeb, released on compassionate grounds after becoming quite ill.


As his parole date gets nearer and nearer, Malik realises he holds the power and takes over the Arab gang, leaving Luciani virtually on his own and utterly powerless, with no friends either inside the prison or on the outside, entirely unable to exact revenge for the traitorous actions of his once-protege. 

Un Prophète is an intricate study of the economics of corruption. Malik says all along that he doesn't work for the Corsicans, he works for himself - when it is in his interests that work will cross over with the Corsicans, but when his interests change, he will quite happily double-cross to ensure his safety with the other side. In the process, he becomes incredibly powerful considering his young, innocent (for want of a better word) and naive roots.


Rahim as Malik is a true revelation. Virtually unknown previously, he is now up for a BAFTA Rising Star award for his portrayal, carrying this fairly long film almost entirely on his own back. His transformation from pitiful to powerful is subtle but definite, played out slowly but carefully so that by the end you are in no doubt of his strength. Arestrup as the prison kingpin is dominating but vulnerable. His downfall is not a surprise, as his reliance on other people fearing him (coupled with the fact that, outside of the opening, Malik really isn't) is so entrenched that, when his structure falls away, it is really just inevitable, a matter of time before he falls back to the bottom of the heap.


Cinematography by Stéphane Fontaine perfectly captures both the prison, the outside, and the fantasy world that Malik so often escapes to. Alexandre Desplat, who somehow managed to score only, oh, five other 2009 releases (including: Chéri; Coco Avant Chanel; Twilight: New Moon; Julie & Julia; L'armée du crime, and; The Fantastic Mr Fox - lazy bastard), does an extraordinary job with the soundtrack, aided by some ripping choices by the music supervisor - I'm always happy to hear Sigur Rós turn up, as I'm sure you can imagine.


And through all of this, Audiard keeps a very firm grip on things. Very firm. The film is spectacularly strong, riveting in every moment. It moves through relentlessly, not letting up, but without overbearing you. Worthy of every award going, it just remains to be seen whether Haneke will get his due from the Academy or whether Audiard can keep him waiting a few more years. 5 stars.