Tribeca ’13: Michael H. Profession: Director

Austrian art-house titan Michael Haneke won just about every award there was to be had for his latest film, Amour, including the Oscar and the Palme d’Or.  Yet, Haneke’s vision is so uncompromising his work is often more appreciated in retrospect than enjoyed in the moment. This makes Haneke a logical candidate for a documentary survey treatment, despite the auteur’s reluctance to answer questions that might establish definitive interpretations of his films.  Yves Montmayeur rises to the challenge with Michael H, Profession: Director (trailer here), which screens as part of the World Documentary Competition at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

Fittingly, Montmayeur begins with Haneke’s “greatest hit,” observing the director at work on Amour.  However, he demonstrates a bit of visual flair, showing Haneke blocking out Jean-Lois Trintignant’s nightmare sequence as if it were really him in the scene.  Trintignant and his Academy Award nominated co-star Emmanuelle Riva both praise the specificity and clarity of Haneke’s direction, but suggest he is quite the demanding helmer.

Essentially working in reverse chronological order, Montmayeur then takes stock of White Ribbon, strongly emphasizing Haneke’s return to his German mother tongue.  It seems an important point, particularly in light of the film’s themes.  It also makes one think of Haneke in literary terms, following in the tradition of non-native language writers like Conrad and Nabokov.  Indeed, Haneke might be the right filmmaker to finally crack the Conradian adaptation nut.

Some of interviews and generous samplings of film clips will motivate viewers to catch up with some of Haneke’s past work.  On the other hand, Montmayeur basically gives away the ending of Funny Games, but if you are going to spoil a Haneke film that is probably the one to do it for.  In addition to Amour’s co-leads, Haneke regulars Juliette Binoche and Isabelle Huppert add insights in working with the distinguished director. He certainly attracts some of the best in the business, not that Haneke likes to think of filmmaking in such commercial terms.

Haneke can be very eloquent discussing his work.  His remarks at last year’s NYFF press conference were uncharacteristically helpful for those us looking to get a handle on Amour.  Even though Haneke will brusquely dismiss questions he does not wish to answer, Montmayeur gets him talking on general subjects in ways that illuminate his entire oeuvre.  That is really quite the trick.

Throughout Profession one gets a clear sense of Haneke’s pessimistic conception of human nature as well as his artistic integrity.  While he is a fascinating filmmaker to spend time with, it is hard to say how rewarding the documentary will be to viewers completely unfamiliar with his work. Respectfully recommended for Haneke’s admirers and critics alike, Michael H, Profession: Director screens again tonight (4/21), Thursday (4/25), and Saturday (4/27) during the 2013 Tribeca Film Festival.

Haneke’s Amour

Death is the ultimate leveler.  It comes for all and unless the pharaohs were right, you cannot take it with you.  For years, one French couple lived a life of privilege and refinement.  However, the diseases of old age will rob them of their dignity and comfort in Michael Haneke’s Amour (trailer here), which opens this Wednesday in New York at Film Forum.

Selected by Austria as their official foreign language Academy Award submission, the Palme d’Or winning Amour is a French language film, set almost entirely in a Parisian flat, featuring two of the most acclaimed French actors of their generation: Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva.  At least, Haneke is Austrian.  Nevertheless, it qualifies under the Academy’s stringent rules for best foreign language features.  In fact, it is an acknowledged frontrunner.

Indeed, Amour’s themes and big name cast are distinctly Oscar-friendly, but this is a Haneke film, not On Golden Pond.  The emotions are darker and the sentiment will be hard earned.  Viewers initially meet Anne and Georges during a moment of triumph.  They have returned from a high profile concert given by Anne’s last and greatest music student, Alexandre, which they attended as his guests.  Unfortunately, soon after they return, Anne’s health begins to fail in a dramatic but protracted manner.

The slightly forgetful Georges is rather stunned to find himself in the caregiver role, but he does his best.  It is difficult though, both for him and Anne, as Haneke illustrates in a series of small but punishing scenes.  Of course, the framing device forewarns the audience Amour will end in tragedy, but how the couple reaches that point is the whole point of the film.

They say a good film can never be a downer and that is true, but as accomplished as Amour’s performances are, it probably should be avoided by those prone to depression.  The human frailty displayed by Trintignant and Riva is rather shocking, especially given their indelible cinematic images from classics like A Man and a Woman and Hiroshima mon amour.  Riva’s work is particularly brave, revealing her character’s pain and degradation, both physically and emotionally. 

While it is a less showy a performance, the bitter honesty of Trintignant’s Georges arguably represents the film’s true essence.  Though it is a thankless supporting role, Isabelle Huppert is still perfectly cast as their icily detached grown child Eva.  Classical pianist Alexandre Tharaud also has some touching moments as his namesake, who might be a better son-like figure than Eva ever was as their legitimate daughter.

Compared to some of Haneke’s previous work, Amour is distinctly sympathetic to his characters, but considering the unflinching focus he trains on them, “sensitive” might not be the most apt descriptive term for the film.  Aesthetically, it is also quite distinctive.  Production designer Jean-Vincent Puzos’s flat is elegantly photogenic and cinematographer Darius Khondji gives it all a gauzy, sophisticated look.  Yet, forcing us to bear witness to Georges and Anne’s intimate misery seems to be the extent of Haneke’s agenda.  Recommended with respect (rather than affection) for emotionally robust Francophiles and those who appreciate dramatic showcases, Amour opens this Wednesday (12/19) at Film Forum.

Haneke’s White Ribbon

It is 1914 and Archduke Franz Ferdinand is still alive. Yet these cannot be described innocent days for one rural town in northern Germany. A rash of disturbing incidents will mar the community’s deceptive tranquility, well before the impending intervention of great historical events. Of course, far worse atrocities will be committed in Germany in the coming years when the pre-WWI-era children begin to assert themselves in German society. Austrian director Michael Haneke submits that generation of Germans to a rough session of forensic psychoanalysis in his Palme D’Or winning film The White Ribbon (trailer here), Germany’s official submission for this year’s Best Foreign Language Oscar, which opens this Wednesday in New York.

The kids are most definitely not alright in Ribbon, but their parents and authority figures are little better. Random acts of cruelty, often targeting children, have been committed by a person or persons unknown. First, the town doctor is seriously injured when his horse stumbles on a trip-wire, leaving the hamlet without his services for succeeding tragedies. Next, a woman dies in the Baron’s barn, perhaps as a result of negligence. Then the Baron’s son is briefly abducted and severely beaten. Yet the townspeople will soon see even worse crimes.

The local schoolteacher starts to form certain suspicions about the culprits that Haneke unsubtly foreshadows throughout the film. However, Ribbon is less concerned with legalistic questions of guilt than the shocking lack of empathy of the villagers, both young and old, creating the environment that gave rise to the strange crimes. In fact, Ribbon refrains from answering some questions (at least not explicitly), which heightens the film’s unsettling effect.

Naturally, Haneke fingers the usually suspects, like the village pastor’s distinctly Calvinistic version of Christianity and Germany’s severely regimented approach to education. However, there are also elements of class resentment at work, as well. The Baron is deeply unpopular within the village and his son, a true child of privilege, is an early victim. It seems like the final remnants of feudalism are breaking down in Ribbon, leaving a vacuum of authority, which of course will eventually be filled by the National Socialists.

Haneke, the director of Funny Games, hardly set out to make another horror film. Still, the gothic atmosphere created by Christian Berger’s black-and-white cinematography is quite eerie. Frankly, Ribbon is far creepier than The Village, M. Night Shyamalan’s tiresome tale of township suspense. However, the most disturbing aspect of Ribbon is the casual cruelty it depicts through some truly cutting dialogue.

Ribbon is more of a work of directorial bravura than an actors’ showcase. Still, Christian Friedel and Leonie Benesch bring welcome sensitivity to the film as the well-intentioned but ineffectual schoolteacher and his innocent young romantic interest, respectively.

Haneke takes a grim, unforgiving look at human nature, finding it distinctly brutal and malevolent in Ribbon. While he would likely argue his vision of humanity applies universally, Ribbon is seems particularly Teutonic in its austerity and chilly reserve. In spite of its predictably caricatured portrayal of religion, it is a well executed film that successfully provokes uncomfortable questions about man’s fundamental nature. It opens Wednesday (12/30) at Film Forum.

NYFF ’09: White Ribbon

It is 1914 and Archduke Franz Ferdinand is still alive. Yet these cannot be described as days of innocence for one rural town in northern Germany. A rash of disturbing incidents will mar the community’s deceptive tranquility, well before the intervention of great historical events. Of course, far worse atrocities will be committed in Germany in the years to come when the pre-WWI-era children begin to assert themselves in German society. Austrian director Michael Haneke submits that generation of Germans to a rough session of forensic psychoanalysis in his Palme D’Or winning film The White Ribbon (trailer here), which screens this Wednesday at the 2009 New York Film Festival.

The kids are most definitely not alright in Ribbon, but their parents and authority figures are little better. Random acts of cruelty, often targeting children, have been committed by a person or persons unknown. First, the town doctor is seriously injured when his horse stumbles on a trip-wire, leaving the hamlet without his services for succeeding tragedies. Next, a woman dies in the Baron’s barn, perhaps as a result of mere negligence. Then the Baron’s son is briefly abducted and severely beaten. Yet the townspeople will soon see even worse crimes.

The local schoolteacher starts to form certain suspicions about the culprits, which Haneke unsubtly foreshadows throughout the film. However, Ribbon is less concerned with legalistic questions of guilt than the shocking lack of empathy of the villagers, both young and old, creating the environment that gave rise to the strange crimes.

Naturally, Haneke fingers the usually suspects, like the village pastor’s distinctly Calvinistic version of Christianity and Germany’s severely regimented approach to education. However, there are also elements of class resentment at work, as well. The Baron is deeply unpopular within the village and his son, a true child of privilege, is an early victim. It seems like the final remnants of feudalism are breaking down in Ribbon, leaving a vacuum of authority, which of course will eventually be filled by the National Socialists.

Haneke, the director of Funny Games, hardly set out to make another horror film. Still, the gothic atmosphere created by Christian Berger’s black-and-white cinematography is quite eerie. In fact, Ribbon is far creepier than The Village, M. Night Shyamalan’s tiresome tale of township suspense. However, the most unsettling aspect of Ribbon is the casual cruelty it depicts through some truly cutting dialogue.

Ribbon is more of a work of directorial bravura than an actors’ showcase. Still, Christian Friedel and Leonie Benesch bring welcome sensitivity to the film as the well-intentioned but ineffectual schoolteacher and his innocent young romantic interest, respectively.

Haneke takes a grim, unforgiving look at human nature, finding it distinctly brutal and malevolent in Ribbon. While he would likely argue his vision of humanity applies universally, Ribbon is seems particularly Teutonic in its austerity and chilly reserve. In spite of its predictably caricatured portrayal of religion, it is a well executed film that successfully provokes uneasy questions about man’s fundamental nature. It screens this Wednesday (10/7) and Thursday (10/8) as an official selection of the 2009 NYFF.