Shown at the Vancouver
Film Festival, Austrian director Michael Haneke's spine-tingling Hitchcock-like
thriller, Cache is a metaphor for the denial of French responsibility
for the treatment of Algerians in its colonial past and its current treatment
of immigrants. The first five minutes of Caché shows a placid street
scene outside of a suburban Parisian home with people coming and going
long into the night. It is not until several minutes into the film, however,
that we realize we are watching videotape sent by unknown persons to the
family of Georges Laurent (Daniel Auteuil). The tape is wrapped in a drawing
showing blood coming out of the side of the mouth of a young boy
Haneke is masterful in
showing the murk that is hidden beneath the outward calm of our comfortable
middle-class lives, a recurring theme in many of his films. Here, Georges
is the host of a literary TV talk show and his wife Anne (Juliet Binoche)
works at a publishing house. Their complacent lives are filled with dinner
parties, intellectual conversations, and general indifference to the outside
world, a world that only intrudes when the TV news tries to get their diverted
attention. Georges is disturbed by the tape, even more so than Anne, but
he only contacts the police after a second tape shows up. Predictably,
the police refuse to do anything unless the family is under direct attack.
The mystery of who sent the tapes increases as Haneke builds an unrelenting
atmosphere of imminent danger in a low-key manner without the use of foreboding
music or Twilight Zone effects.
As nerves become frayed,
tension erupts between husband and wife and explodes into acrimony when
their twelve-year old son Pierrot (Lester Makedonsky), stays at a friend's
house all night without letting them know, bringing up fears that he has
been kidnapped by the stalkers. Soon, another tape reveals a stone farmhouse
where Georges grew up and where his invalid mother still resides. His visit
with his mother (Annie Girardot) brings back long buried memories and Georges
is forced to confront a terrible secret hidden since he was six years old.
He tells Anne that he has a hunch who is behind the threatening tapes but
refuses to tell her who he is thinking of, prompting her to deplore the
lack of trust in their relationship.
He visits an Algerian
man named Majid (Maurice Bénichou) whose parents worked for Georges'
family during the French colonial repression in Algeria in the 1960s but
Majid, unruffled by the accusation, denies having anything to do with the
tapes. The full extent of Georges' treatment of Majid when they were both
children slowly begins to emerge, however, leading to a shocking if somewhat
elusive conclusion. Though the whodunit is actually less important than
its implications, Caché is not a polemic or a political tome. It
is a superbly crafted, entertaining, and challenging film that makes us
painfully aware of the consequences of the lack of individual responsibility
and creepy paranoia of modern life and of Western arrogance toward people
considered inferior. It is Haneke's most accessible and enduring achievement.
GRADE: A
Howard
Schumann