Caché

A bourgeois Parisian family finds mysterious videotapes delivered to their doorstep. Reminiscent of the prologue in "Lost Highway," the tapes primarily feature recordings of the exterior of their home, gradually moving towards their intimate spaces. We already know where this is heading: what lies beneath the apparent happiness of the bourgeoisie? Actually, the interventions of this mysterious stalker reveal little or nothing, relying instead on the characters' reactions to unveil their true nature. The cinematography is as static and sterile as the tapes delivered within the film. In fact, at the beginning in each scene, you may question whether it's part of the movie or just one of the mysterious recordings. It's also challenging to trust the protagonist's memories, with dreams that could be recollections of the past or just fabricated recollections to cover up the lies of a lifetime. Despite the film itself being so restrained and essential in execution, I found it thematically captivating. I don't think I'll revisit it anytime soon, but I'll keep it in my notebook of films to remember.

Voyeuristic and unsettling, Caché is a surprisingly messaged piece with some of the grit and gore that you'd expect from a Michael Haneke movie, but probably not as much or of the kind you're expecting. Initially let down by the lack of usual Haneke brutality, I was quite shocked to see a more restrained, pointed message movie about French guilt and racism. I loved the subtley and straight faced presentation of these themes, leaving it up to the viewer to piece together and deciper what Haneke is trying to say here; from the news reports, how Georges acts and the underlying mystery from the past. Not bad, and definitely a higher score from me as I love understated message movies, but steer clear if slow burn metaphors are not your thing. Seeing Juliette Binoche in another movie after loving her in The Staircase was also a treat. Good stuff indeed.