oOoBarracuda Haneke explores a number of themes that he has kept a constant focus on since the beginning of his career. The idea of familial discontent is thoroughly explored through Cache. Much like in 71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance, the disconnect of the family is a prevalent in Cache, as well. As in his previous films, Cache also shows a family that shares no meaningful interaction while sharing meals together. In fact, the only time there is any joy expressed at the meal table is when a dinner party takes place in the family home. It is only when people that live outside of the home come into it, that any happiness seems to exist there. The couple and their only child share no affectionate interchanges, nor do they share any deep conversations. They live together, their geographic circumstances dictate that they spend a certain amount of time together since they cohabitate, but they are all but strangers in their existence. The marriage we are invited to witness is also obviously strained. Not simply a situation of comfort that has settled in between two married people who have long ago witnessed their spark snuffed out, but the body language between the couple indicate their relationship is troubled. The subtle ways Haneke expresses their discontent are masterful. One can discern, simply by the way the couple passes each other in their kitchen, that some issue is brewing beneath the surface of their relationship. It is not clear to the audience what has happened between them, but what we are able to recognize is that the couple themselves have not properly worked through the issue themselves. Haneke's audience is shown further familial disconnect when one member of the family, Georges (Daniel Auteuil) visits his mother, whom it is clear he hasn't seen in some time and struggles through conversation with her. Georges is there simply to gain an understanding that he thinks will help him solve the issue facing him currently of the videos being left on his doorstep by an unknown person. Georges believes the key to discovering the identity of the person leaving the tapes lies in his past, leading him to consult his mother about his childhood. In essence, Georges' visit with his mother is akin to that of a business meeting. He doesn't greet his mother especially warmly, he doesn't stay and chat after obtaining the information he sought, he simply leaves, as though the one responsible for his existence is another face in the crowd. What Haneke is especially adept at through Cache, is his ability to expose how disconnected we are from each other, even when one is surrounded by people. The lack of discussion taking place through Cache, even when multiple people shared a space together was especially striking. Haneke's ability to highlight such disconnection, brought to mind instances in my own life wherein several people I knew shared a car ride, or room together and each had little to say to each other. Often such disconnect is due to the overuse of smartphones creating an inability to engage with someone that is, in body, directly in front of you rather than communicating with through a screen. Such disconnect can be caused by a number of things, however, and Haneke's ability to force the audience to examine this truth speaks to his strength as a psychological and philosophical filmmaker.Still interested in the average person's desensitization to violence, Haneke makes a point of showing the casual ways in which human beings interact with death and destruction on a daily basis. Amidst an argument between Georges and his wife Anne (Juliette Binoche), a gruesome piece of news comes across their television showing people who were killed in grotesque detail. Not only are Georges and Anne unphased by the images, but they also continue their fighting, only escalating the violence in their own home. Later on, soldiers' deaths and the carnage of war play out on screen for the entire family to see and no one is sickened by the sight. Haneke expertly reminds us that showing such minimal reactions to intense violence is not normal, and only seems as such because it is so often shown. By spending so long showing the mundane daily activities and the repeated mechanic repetition that makes up most of our lives, Haneke reveals the number of things that we do that, when scrutinized, make little sense. We should not be able to watch human beings dying in front of us, yet, due to the 24-hour news cycle and the fact that death is what makes the news, we have grown accustomed to witnessing that which is truly heinous. Cache is unique because it explores many facets of human life that don't make sense if truly given thought. Violence, and its impact on human beings, is a constant idea explored in the films of Michael Haneke. What he also analyzes through Cache is the fear of constant surveillance and the paranoia that brings. As little sense as it makes that every waking moment of life is monitored by cameras, that's exactly the world we are entering into as technology progresses. We carry with us devices that constantly track our location, adapt to our search patterns, and have the capability to record our voice, or the voices of others in an instant. What once seemed illusory is now commonplace, to expect that every movement made outside of your home will be tracked by cameras positioned to never miss a single step. Privacy has gone by the wayside, and largely voluntarily, as the average person has multiple social media platforms they utilize bringing people into their personal lives and openly sharing details strangers would have never before been privy to. Despite the fact that we invite such transparency with our own lives, it is the times we do not invite it that makes us uncomfortable. For instance, Georges is filmed for his work, constantly inviting an audience to view him and offer scrutiny. The tapes he finds on his doorstep, however, when it is made clear that someone knows his comings and goings and films his front porch without George's nor his family's knowledge is unwelcome. Haneke invites fierce introspection here, forcing us to consider that our own relationship with technology may be a hypocritical one.The nuances of ethnic differences is another mainstay in Haneke's work. In Cache, however, Haneke more fully explores the racial differences among people while simultaneously offering criticism to the class structure and how both influence our relationships with others. There is an intense and thought-provoking scene wherein a disgruntled Georges, crossing the street, is threatened by a person of color on a bicycle whom Georges feels was riding by too close to him. The two share a heated exchange before being goaded by Anne into agreeing that they were both in the wrong, and should each proceed into the street with more caution in the future. Race is never mentioned throughout their argument, which is actually the most poignant statement Haneke could have made. It seems as though Georges selected that encounter in order to blow off some steam, and picked a person he deemed socially beneath him as the target of his abuse. In addition to that troubling probability, Haneke is also making a powerful statement on social liberalism. It is the person that describes themselves as socially liberal that will pride themselves on not describing a person using their race or ethnicity. Who knows, however, what occupies the private thoughts of these social liberals. Does Georges ever think anything racist, and simply refrain from vocalizing it? Haneke also calls the viewers attention to race and how we interact with the racial tension around us by constantly highlighting such issues on the television sets constantly playing in the background. Perhaps Georges' social status and class are all that prevents him from shouting racial obscenities when he engages in altercations on the streets. This focus on this particular snag of social liberalism is one largely ignored but adeptly explored by Michael Haneke.Michael Haneke is a filmmaker who consistently wants to take his audience to a higher plane. Philosophy and psychology, though governing the human condition, are often overlooked as thematic elements in film. Haneke's direction focuses solely on the larger contemplations of existence in a way that encourages the audience to think about their own place in the world and how they interact with others. Crafting films that provide for such a breadth of self-analysis shows Haneke's fondness for his audience. By so strongly encouraging such self-reflection, watching Haneke's films is always a profoundly meaningful experience. Michael Haneke depicts the most mundane parts of existence, the banal chores, and the least exciting aspects of life. These monotonous moments are not the ones we choose to fill our photo albums with, but they do make up the largest portions of our lives. Inviting such introspection, and spending so thorough a time filming the long takes of the most tedious tasks, Haneke is not a filmmaker visited for a quick thrill. One of my favorite scenes I watched this year was in Twin Peaks: The Return where the audience witnesses a nearly three-long scene wherein someone is sweeping a floor. The only point of interest comes briefly in the scene in which someone makes a phone call in the background, providing little details. I adore this scene so much because it is so unexpected. Watching scenes such as this also requires the audience to slow down and be more present in the moment they are witnessing. Michael Haneke makes entire films based on the notion of slowing an audience's expectations and forcing them to turn the mirror on themselves and examine their collection of items stored in a hidden or inaccessible place, or, their cache.

sharky_55 Caché overlays its opening credits with a long shot of a suburban home, boxed in and framed by the surroundings in what is an intensely voyeuristic tone. We believe we are staring alongside the mysterious stalker and photographer. And then the tape suddenly rewinds, and the voice-over of Georges and Anne begin to contemplate, and Haneke has completely marred the objectivity of the camera. He continues to do so throughout as we return again to the same unblinking angles of surveillance. In one moment, he mimics the opening shot, but slowly dollies away as the couple leave and walk over to their car, and we have once again been fooled. He will shoot a conversation in close- up, under the guise of intimacy, and then revisit it in one of the haunting tapes that the family receive, at another angle that seems inexplicably obvious to the eye. Characters walk past the camera, and seem to not notice its presence at all, which heightens the mystery and terror around how exactly it is being done. In a rather candid moment early in the film, the couple are crossing a road, and a biker almost runs over Georges. The pair being to angrily blame each other, not willing to admit their faults. One could suppose that the colour of the biker's skin unveils a undercurrent of racism in the character of Georges, which ties into the post-colonial backdrop of the Algerian massacres that Haneke seems to have twisted a metaphor out of. Yet I think that Georges would have reacted the same way had it been another ethnicity. He is quick to lay blame and hide his faults. More than once, he is goaded into physical escalation and confrontation by other characters. He does not bite, of course, but prefers more underhanded methods. He threatens and accuses, and withers in the face of these when directed at himself. Interspersed with the incidents are more mundane elements of their daily lives; dinner with friends, work, attending their son's swim meets...but these begin to be invaded by Georges' conscience, and he is haunted by dreams of his past. The camera-work takes on the same shaky, unnerving aesthetic as the recorded tapes, and we being to understand just how vivid these childhood memories still are in his mind, and how he tries to will these back down deep. Much of the film uses natural lighting that is harsh and unforgiving, so much so that in his confession Georges tells his wife to switch off the lights, hoping to be afforded some sort of solace. It is to no avail; the deed still rings true, as does the guilt he carries deep into adulthood. The film is silent, too, and composed in many long takes, which gives Daniel Auteuil much to work with. Watch how he squirms as Majid shockingly slashes his throat; not with horror, but with a disgust and desire to get far far away and rid himself of any responsibility or blame for the death. Haneke has expressed his opinion of the film as a critique towards American cinema, and how it often uses violence as a superficial solution. That is most obvious in the way that Georges consistently avoids physical confrontation, and the ending, which has left many unsatisfied because of the perceived lack of proper closure and reveal of the culprit. And he succeeds because of this reaction; it would be all too easy for him to slip in a little clue in a brief shot of a background, a tiny key to unlocking the puzzle. And that itself would be easily identified and give many viewers a great pleasure in deciphering it - nothing does get past the internet these days. But Haneke does not do that. He worms his way into ours and Georges' minds, and undermines the rationality in which we are supposed to process these events, and that makes it terrifying. There is no logic in emotional guilt. Georges comments that the tape's quality is too clear to have been shot through a window, and resolves to pinpoint the exact location of the camera. Later, as he waits for traffic at a crossing, the camera captures his full body clearly, before it moves back and reveals that he has been shot all this time through a glass door. I suppose an American version would insert a twist of sorts, something that would make us rewind and slowly examine each scene much like they do in the opening, for the little clue that reveals everything. Or maybe, god forbid, they would make Georges' himself the culprit of the tapes, and chalk it up as some kind of mental delusion. Haneke makes this intensely personal, and very upsetting.

Alex Deleon Haneke's Caché, viewed at Valladolid, 2006:Haneke's "Caché" is a handsomely filmed puzzle with no clear -- or even unclear -- answer at the end, but the work of two of France's finest actors, Daniel-Auteuil and Juliet Binoche, makes the trip to nowhere more or less tolerable. The couple Auteuil-Binoche, quite well- off haute bourgeois media people, are being spied upon and start getting strange videos from whoever the spier is -- which we will never find out for sure--- and the mounting paranoia starts putting a heavy strain on their seemingly perfect marriage --on and on -- until the plot gets so convoluted that only a mother could love it, and there is no resolution in sight. This is a picture that is all style and actor driven, but as Gertrude Stein said about Oakland, "There isn't any 'there' there". In any case, intense Daniel Auteuil is the Gallic answer to Al Pacino, and Binoche is always a pleasure to watch, even when she's suffering. Not for every taste, but there's some class in there somewhere. The official jury statement proffered to explain their weird dual selection of two highly obscure films: "In these two films the jury acknowledges the artistic maturity of two European filmmakers with very individualistic career trajectories"-- WELL, la-dee-da, et moi non plus...

cworld14-989-991707 Brilliant.............a film director make an ass of film critics and film goers alike. Cache is a prank on the public but directed specifically forward film critics and their liberal easily taken in followers. Google "art critics fooled by fakes" or "art critics fooled by kindergartners" and read the many hilarious accounts of these supposed "Art" critics making asses of themselves. These are the same people that think blood and feces smeared on a canvas is art. This movie is like a long boring joke with no punch line. Michael Haneke is the Yoko Ono of the film world. No one likes being drawn in to a movie that drags on and on but still holds your attention just enough to make you want to get paid off for your almost two hour investment only to be given a sleeping pill at the end. I say 'end' because the 2nd set of credits roll but there is no ending here. Let some of these reviewers here explain it all to you and you will get dizzy with their moronic explanations about what a great director and movie this is. One critic wrote: ("Brassau paints with powerful strokes, but also with clear determination. His brush strokes twist with furious fastidiousness. Pierre is an artist who performs with the delicacy of a ballet dancer.") That critique was written by a well known supposed art critic whom later found he was critiquing the work of a 31-year-old female chimp. The same ilk rave about this overrated waste of time. How many movies in IMDb have ratings like this one? Either '7' to '10' stars or '1' star ('0' if it was allowable and it should be) I could find no other except guess who? Yes, all of this genius's movies are the same and I for one will make sure he never gets a second of my time with any more of his garbage. There is nothing to compare this movie to (except possibly his other movies, I for one will never know) in an attempt to get across to you what an utterly pretentious waste of time this movie is. One last thing, Michael, you are not a movie director, you are a TV show director. You could have made this entire movie in 20 minutes rather than drag it out for almost two hours, spare your fans next time. I agree with other reviewers that this guy is just plain boring.