The thought that persisted in my mind while watching the French film Cache directed/written by Michael Haneke was that Cache was no ordinary film. Cache is about the Laurent family and their suspicion that they are being stalked, as strange surveillance videos of their house and mysterious drawings show up at their doorstep. The film follows Georges Laurent as he attempts to solve the mystery. Cache maintains a sense of tension throughout its entirety not only because of the tense scenes onscreen, but also because of the directorial choices Haneke made to leave important information out. Cache breaks many of the traditional conventions of a typical narrative film and produces an uneasy feeling for its viewers. The audience is left with confusion, no clear resolution, and self-doubt over what they had just seen.
In The Tutor-Code of Classical Cinema, Daniel Dayan writes about the techniques film has created which allow the viewer to become a part of the film. According to Dayan, “falling under the control of the cinematographic system, the spectator loses access to the present.” The audience roots for the protagonist and is satisfied when the villain is destroyed. The techniques used to make the film believable include eyeline matches, continuity editing, and the shot-reverse-shot. In typical narrative films, such as Rear Window or Sleepless in Seattle, eyeline matches connect one shot to another through the use of the gaze to produce meaning. In Rear Window, Jeff looks down and the next shot is of Miss Lonelyheart on the bottom floor. The audience believes Jeff was looking at Miss Lonelyheart. In Sleepless in Seattle, eyeline matches connect Annie and Sam across continents. Annie looks to the side and the next frame captures Sam looking at that side. The camera uses eyeline matches to motivate the narration of the film. The audience identifies with these two shots, which are separate frames in reality, but joined together in the film to create meaning. Eyeline matches are a part of continuity editing. This continuity editing allows for the audience to become totally immersed, or sutured, into the film because the editing allows for fluidity and consistency. The audience becomes lost in the movie and follows its storyline. Eyeline matches and continuity editing are important qualities that a movie will have if it wants its audience to become sutured in. Cache often broke these typical conventions, especially the technique of shot-reverse-shot.
With the shot-reverse-shot technique the meaning of shot 1 is conveyed by the object/person in the reverse shot 2. Dayan also includes Jean-Pierre Oudart’s analysis on the theory of the “absent-one.” The reverse shot in shot 2, which creates meaning to complete shot 1, satisfies this “absent one” in shot 1. This furthers the suturing of the viewer into the film. In Cache, there often was no shot 2, and therefore, no meaning to shot 1. This is discomforting and creates confusion. The audience feels uncomfortable because in Cache the “absent one” Dayan referred to, remains absent. The reverse shot is not revealed. In addition, a guilty feeling rides over the audience that they are seeing things they should not. The audience wonders if they become the voyeur. The audience develops a creepy sense that they may be that “shot 2.” At some points in the movie I wanted to just get out of my seat and click the off button on the surveillance camera that we were viewing through. I believe that in Cache, the viewer is constantly reminded of this discomforting presence as the viewer yearns to know who is the face in shot 2.
Cache was one of the most unsettling and frustrating movies I have ever seen. With no clear resolution, the viewers are left sitting in the lightly dimmed theater, questioning what they have just watched. Georges leaves his wife out of his hunches and the audience is left out as well. There are no answers to the many questions that come up throughout the film. Who is watching the Laurent family? Is this a surveillance tape or is this a scene in the film? There are many drawn-out conversations that are filmed with a long shot, without different angles or close-ups, and that often have no purpose. The normal conventions of film guarantee a seamless narrative. Cache does not have a seamless narrative. For example, a shot is shown and then a sound is heard but they are not connected. In addition, Haneke usually left out the reverse shot and therefore the movie maintained its tension even after its ending. For example, there is a shot of a scene in Majid’s kitchen, but the audience never knows who is in the reverse shot. In another example there is a shot of boys swimming in a pool, but it’s unknown whose watching these boys- it a coach, a parent, or is it us as the audience? Also shown is a scene of a house, the audience assumes it is George’s childhood home, and there is action in front of the house, and again the audience questions whose watching it? The audience becomes aware that they could be the “absent one”- and this is something the audience is not conditioned to conceptualize. Haneke also allows actors to appear in the shot and then leave and not come back, allowing for more questions to arise in the viewer’s mind. The director knew what he was doing when he named his film Cache, which in French means hidden, as the movie leaves the audience with a eerie sense that there is a lot of missing evidence.
Similar to what I commented on Matt's blog, I do feel like Cache was implying the gaze of the audience in the hidden shot reverse shot. The surveillance tape seems to suture us into the shot, because we are watching with Georges--it happens in real time for us. Perhaps Georges gets the guilty sense of being watched because in fact, we ARE watching him. We ARE judging him.
ReplyDeleteI like how you indicate that much of the tension in cache is due more to directorial choices than plotline. While Cache employs the classic creation of tension through omission, you recognize that Cache’s suspense is due almost entirely through omission to the point where the audience is not just waiting anxiously for action, but the audience is slowly frustrated and exhausted due to the continual withholding. The minimal continuity editing in the film creates a different type of suture. It creates interest which sutures the audience into the film rather than the typical narrative fluidity and employment of tools such as eyeline matching. The audience’s sense of interest is aroused, but the audience is never truly invited to immerse itself into the film as part of the narrative. It is made blatantly aware that it is the odd man out. It is the absent one and therefore it is meant to be absent from the narrative. It can draw conclusions based off of its observations, yet it can never truly be sure of the motivations behind its observations. I liked how you mentioned that “the viewer is constantly reminded of this discomforting presence as the viewer yearns to know who is the face in shot 2,” for the absent one is, in a sense, the main character of the film. The film begins with the absent one and ends with the absent one observing the schoolyard in an unsettlingly voyeuristic manner. Your discussion of the meaning behind the title, how cache is equivalent to hidden, is interesting as well. Not only are the motivations behind the characters hidden and the omniscient plotline obscured, but the viewer himself is conveyed as an elusive being, hidden and absent from view.
ReplyDeleteI find it interesting that even after so much time everyone is still trying to reconcile with Cache. I think you have touched on some things that I hadn't thought of yet, and I think that it will take a group effort for all of us to come to terms with the movie. Your comments in your second-to-last paragraph are particularly interesting. You have managed to put into words just what the audience is feeling, that if we are the voyeur, we should turn the camera off. I do think that it isn't the audience realizing that in this case we are the voyeur, but being reminded in such an uncomfortable way that in watching any movie we are the voyeur. It is almost an indictment on movie watching in general, leading us to wonder if we have really been watching real people all these years of movies or if they really are just actors.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you brought up this eerie feeling of being the voyeur in this film. I certainly shared the same discomfort you felt while watching the film. The scene at the swim practice was particularly tough for me to sit through. Something about the way the camera was focused on the wall where the boys were turning around in the water along with the fact that the swim team had no part in the narrative made me as the spectator feel uncomfortable. It was as if by sitting through this scene (which can easily be seen a perverted) I felt like I could also be capable of making the surveillance tapes feature throughout the film. It was as if Haneke was creating my character for me, dictating who I was as a person and a spectator for his film.
ReplyDeleteI completely agree with Carrie's comment. Cache does not reveal the absent-one through narrative or editing techniques. Because of this dual secrecy, we are indeed left uncomfortable. We often have positive self-concepts, or ideas about who we are and how we would behave in situations. We like to pretend that we are not voyeurs. We would never be peeping toms, and yet we enjoy the guilty pleasure of a peeping tom through watching the movies. We see Ms. Torso through Jeff's eyes; the shame is all on him for watching a young woman dance through her window in her bra. Even though we are watching, the absent one gives us an out. Connecting Jeff with what the voyeurism allows us to maintain positive visions of ourselves. Cache doesn't let us get out of our guilt. We are sutured into the film and forced to face the fact that we are watching and there's no one else to blame it on.
ReplyDeleteI feel like you did a good job hitting on what made Cache feel so suspenseful and frustrating to watch. I think the fact that its abandonment of common film conventions led to such intense feelings of confusion and disorientation is a strong commentary on just how much we rely on those conventions in our understanding of film. However, the fact that the film was so emotionally powerful and memorable I think is partially in spite of this lack of convention and partially because of it. It is a strong statement to the skill of the director that he was able to use something that felt so uncomfortable and visually awkward to create a powerful film. Although it was terribly frustrating to watch, and I felt both worn out and betrayed by the end, Cache was also a film that I thought a great deal about in the next few days, and in the end I decided I was very glad I had seen it.
ReplyDeleteYour point about how Haneke often leaves out the "reverse shot" convention of shot/reverse shot is right on the money. You give a lot of good examples of shots where this happens and then provide some insightful analysis of what this makes the audience feel and why the director might do this. However, I would have gotten more value out of it if you had provided some film clips. You probably would have been able to focus your analysis even more and bring it in to the larger context of the scene from which the clip came. You also say "a shot is shown and then a sound is heard but they are not connected." I believe you that this happens, but the actual scene doesn't come imediately to mind so it would have been great if you could have found that clip or given a bit more context about what was going on.
ReplyDeleteexcellent summation of shot/reverse shot convention and what happens in contemporary cinema when Haneke resists this. It's perfectly scandalous to not know who's looking isn't it?! (Of course that's the point...)
ReplyDeleteI love the idea that you point to here: we feel implicated by not knowing who is the owner of the look. Great post!
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