The White Ribbon

Michael Haneke thinks broadly of film audiences, and he considers his form of filmmaking to be particularly respectful of the human spectator.  He was recently quoted in he New Yorker saying of his mortifying film Funny Games “If [the film] leaves the viewer uncomfortable, that’s because I respect him.”  In spite of his apparent respect, his films have a self promoted reputation for being extremely unpleasant to watch.  Furthermore, as a director, he is often, somewhat unfairly, compared to master manipulators Alfred Hitchcock and Lars Von Trier. The release of his newest film The White Ribbon, is somewhat ironically occurring in the middle of this Holiday Season of ultra-inclusive releases.  The White Ribbon included, none of Haneke’s films are anywhere near fun for the whole family.  And though it is a bit of a departure, The White Ribbon is still most suitable for a pretentious cousin or a demented little sister.

The film is a parable about the roots of evil in a small, pious German town that suffers a wave of unexplained violence on the eve of WWI.  A work of complete fiction, the film avoids drawing a line between the plight of the townsfolk, and the eventual manifestation of evil in the form of Nazism.  Instead Haneke points a finger at patterns of human behavior, Protestantism and tough parenting, which bind the community together, while driving some to commit unthinkable acts against members of their own families.  The brilliance of The White Ribbon is in the construction of its ensemble narrative, and in the performances of a host of excellent child actors.

Though the film grants a view into the private lives of multiple families, so much is concealed in the film that the mystery remains unsolved to the audience as it seeps through the community.  Watching in a state of perpetual curiosity, the few emerging facts resonate like larger revelations.  The film is quite long and unfolds lugubriously, but the slackened pace never sags, and Haneke makes full use of the 144 minute running time.  The lack of a true protagonist makes the film into a gently voyeuristic explanation of frailty, rather than an art house episode of Law and Order.

Shot entirely in black and white, the film is a visual departure from, and affirmation of Haneke’s visual style.  As in his other films, Haneke rarely moves the camera, and uses staging and character movement to guide the lens when it does.  In the past Haneke has shown an interest in contemporary visual technology, mixing film with video, and exploring viewing habits with TVs and monitors.  In a nod to the mechanical reproduction of the time, The White Ribbon is shot on black and white film, but Haneke’s reverence is selective, and the film has a soundtrack, and its visual style is contemporary.

It is this soundtrack which provides the films first hint of levity, and a layer of distance between the film and the audience, in the form of voice over narration.  The identity of the film’s narrator is not immediately evident, but he is eventually revealed to be the school teacher, played by Christian Friedel.  As the film unfolds, he emerges as the central character, and his interaction with children and adults from multiple families brings him close to the source of the violence.

Through the presence of the school teacher, his narration, a surprisingly pleasing romantic subplot, and the decision not to show key acts of violence on screen, Haneke has made perhaps the first film of his career that does not leave the viewer begging for mercy.  That is not to say that The White Ribbon is not disturbing, or superior to his other films.  The balance that Haneke achieves between quiet horror and genuine goodwill is different from his other films and it is an intentional shift.  This decision harkens back to Haneke’s opinions about respect for the audience.  Has he decided to bolster his statements against manipulative filmmaking by making a film that disturbs, but also pleases? The White Ribbon is certainly an achievement, and it will draw viewers and awards (it is already the winner of this year’s Palme d’Or), but one must wonder if Haneke’s biggest supporters, his biggest fans, the ones who were won over by his unrelenting visions of the damaged and disturbing side of humanity might feel somewhat betrayed.

                                          Thaddeus Ruzicka