Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta Newsweek. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta Newsweek. Mostrar todas las entradas

11.1.10

A History of Violence: Michael Haneke Interview (Newsweek)


Filmmaker Michael Haneke talks about the brutality of his films, respecting the viewer, and his new movie, The White Ribbon.

By Marc Bain |
Newsweek Web Exclusive
Dec 28, 2009

Michael Haneke is one of Europe's most decorated—and controversial—filmmakers. He has a talent for exploring social issues with a camera, and he's equally adept at getting under his audience's skin. In his 2001 movie The Piano Teacher, for instance, he examined what happens when civilized society suppresses animal passions, including some genital self-mutilation in the process. On Dec. 30 his latest film, The White Ribbon, gets a limited release in the U.S. The movie, which earned Haneke his first Palme d'Or at Cannes, is arguably his best to date. With his usual unsentimental eye, it examines life in a small Protestant village in Germany on the eve of World War I, while teasing out implications about the origins of fascism. It could also be his most inviting movie; it has moments of genuine sweetness and is shot in beautiful black and white. Haneke spoke to NEWSWEEK's Marc Bain about making viewers uncomfortable, film as propaganda, and why he takes his audience seriously. Excerpts:

Violence is something you deal with frequently in your movies. Why do you keep returning to the subject?
It's simply that violence is a part of our society. It's the part that frightens us most when we're confronted with it. But I don't understand why I'm always categorized as a specialist for violence. I don't think that's the only thing that's present in my films. I deal with lots of social issues, like the question of media in our society. Personally, I can't stand violence. In any standard American mainstream movie, there's 20 times more violence than in any one of my films, so I don't know why those directors aren't asked why they're such specialists for violence.


You make very different movies than mainstream American directors do. Your approach seems to be less about using violence to entertain.
Drama lives on conflict. If you're trying to deal with social issues seriously, there's no way of avoiding violence, which is so present in society. You should ask Tarantino why he's so obsessed with violence.

Your movies, as you say, deal with many uncomfortable topics. But they never give the viewer a sense of justice being served. Is there an emotional reaction you want from your viewers?
I try to take the spectator seriously ... Mainstream cinema raises questions only to immediately provide an answer to them, so they can send the spectator home reassured. If we actually had those answers, then society would appear very different from what it is. My approach is rather to deal with the question, to raise the question in a way that confronts the audience with it and forces the audience to find their own responses. As a dramatist, your requirement is to do that with as much urgency as possible so the viewer feels compelled to think about the issues. You can't provide reassuring answers, because there are none. The only people claiming to have answers are politicians or people who want to extract money from your wallets.

Do you feel that film is morally obligated to avoid reassuring answers?
Yes. Film is the manipulative medium par excellence. When you think back on the history of film and the 20th century, you see the propaganda that's been made. So there are moral demands on the director to treat the spectators as seriously as he or she takes himself and not to see them merely as victims that can be manipulated to whatever ends they have.

The Czech writer Milan Kundera wrote about kitsch as a kind of false emotion that the Soviets used for propaganda, to manipulate people for political ends. You mention film's history as a propaganda tool. Is that something that's on your mind as you make a film, keeping the film from acting as propaganda?
Yes, of course. But automatically when you make a film you're manipulating the spectator. If you place your camera here instead of there, you're going to give a very different impression, so filmmaking always involves manipulation. The question is rather, to what end do you manipulate the spectator? I've often said that manipulation is a form of rape. The only acceptable form of rape is when you rape the spectator into autonomy, make the spectator aware of their role as a receptor, as a victim, so that they become autonomous or independent.

The White Ribbon looks at children who are raised in a very strict manner—some might even call it extremism—in this small Protestant village in Germany. The implications are obviously broader than the setting. What issues were you trying to address?
I think that the elements that you mention are present in the film and present in that context, but that's certainly not my goal. The question I'm trying to raise is: what are the conditions necessary to make people susceptible to an ideology? Around the world, in every country, in every age, it's always been the same thing: when people are suffering, when people are being humiliated, when people have a sense of hopelessness, then they'll listen to the first person that comes along and says, "I know the solution to your problems." They're willing—eager, in fact—to follow that person. That was the idea behind the film, and for that reason I chose the most prominent example of ideology that we know, which is German fascism. But I think it would be wrong to limit the film to the subject of German fascism for the reasons I mentioned.

There's a cycle of violence evident in the movie. As the parents hurt their children, the children take that pain out on others. Do you think there will ever be an end?
I'm afraid I don't see an end to this cycle of violence. I see children as a fresh field in which people are walking with their hard rubber boots. The longer people walk on the tender soil, the harder the soil gets. Eventually the children themselves start to walk in their hard boots over the soft soil. It's an inevitable cycle. We forget rather quickly physical pain, but our unconscious doesn't forget the humiliation we've suffered and the psychological pain we've suffered.

In the past, with Funny Games, for instance, you directed the movie at a specific audience [American consumers of violence in media]. Is there an audience you had in mind for The White Ribbon ?
Funny Games is the only film of mine which was ever made for a specific audience. All my other films were made for as broad an audience as possible, and this one is no exception.

American critics have accused you of being sanctimonious in your films, like a stern schoolteacher lecturing children. As you see it, you respect the viewer. What do you think accounts for the disconnect between the way you see your movies and the way others sometimes see them?
I think it stems from the fact that most television and mainstream cinema takes the audience as idiots. When they're finally confronted with a film that takes them seriously, they see it as an affront.

Another criticism has been that you make the audience uncomfortable by torturing your characters, albeit for an intellectual point. Do you think of your characters as people or ideas?
I strive very much to create individuals. I'm not interested in them as ideas. I think that's why it disturbs people, because they are real characters. I think it's the mainstream cinema where you find people are reduced to ideas, to clichés of good or evil. In real life there aren't people who are entirely good or entirely evil. We are capable of both, all composed of both in contradictory ways. If you look at the great novels, the characters in them are also very contradictory. It's only in bad literature that people are good or bad.

Last, could you tell me a little about the next film you'll be working on?
I'm so busy giving interviews ... that I haven't had time to sit down to write my next script. But I'm hoping to be able to shoot next summer in France another French production, starring again Isabelle Huppert. I hope I'll have time soon to start writing that script.


3.1.10

"The Secret in Their Eyes": Uncovering the Secret (Newsweek)


Digamos que lo que yo le dije a Brian, en castellano, y que él tradujo y cito acá, era algo un poco más largo y complejo de lo que parece leyéndolo. Si bien entiendo --como periodista y "resumidor de respuestas" que también soy-- que todo debe ser reducido en este tipo de notas, también conozco la hipersensibilidad de muchos cineastas argentinos. Es por eso que debajo de la nota está copiado el cuestionario completo que él me mandó y que yo le contesté...


By Brian Byrnes

In director Juan José Campanella's 2001 film, El Hijo de la Novia (Son of the Bride), Ricardo Darín's character, a short-tempered restaurateur, bluntly tells his actor friend during a heated discussion: "I don't watch Argentine films!" The line draws knowing laughter from Argentines, most of whom don't watch their compatriots' movies, either. This inherent distrust in their own cultural offerings is a topic of constant analysis in Freud-obsessed Buenos Aires, and when Campanella wrote it he knew it would sting. "In Argentina, a Hollywood movie is innocent until proven guilty. An Argentine movie is the other way around," says Campanella, 50. "I have to work really hard to break down that barrier."

He has already succeeded more than any Argentine director in history. His keen, often comedic eye and ability to coax stellar performances from his actors has endeared him to Argentines of all persuasions. His six feature-length films include the Oscar-nominated El Hijo de la Novia; his latest release, El Secreto de Sus Ojos (The Secret in Their Eyes), is the most-talked-about Spanish-language film in years. In Argentina, more than 2.4 million people—6 percent of the population—have seen the film; in Spain it has grossed $7.5 million at the box office, a remarkable feat for a noir thriller set in 1975, the year before Argentina's horrific military dictatorship began. "Campanella's films mix a certain moral and ethical confusion with nostalgia and sentimentality," says Diego Lerer, a film critic for the Argentine newspaper Clarín. "They are always well written and never boring."

Secreto, based on a novel by Eduardo Sacheri, teams Campanella with Darín, the gifted actor who has played the director's alter ego—a variation on the same middle-class Buenos Aires working man—in each of his last four films. In this latest turn, Darín plays a recently retired court investigator who begins writing a book on a 20-year-old murder case while vying for the lost love of his old boss. The film takes place during a delicate era in Argentine history, when state-sponsored violence was just getting underway. The real-life perpetrators of the "dirty war"—which claimed as many as 30,000 lives—have just recently begun to stand trial. "I think Secreto has been such a phenomenon because it examines things from our recent past in an intelligent way," says Darín. "It has gotten people talking and even generated a feeling of hope here."

A surprise ending reveals a disturbing secret held by a key character and helps heighten the film's multigenre appeal. It doesn't hurt that Darín exhibits a rare blend of wit and vulnerability, which appeals to both men and women. "Yes, Darín has elements of Tom Hanks, but he also has elements of Henry Fonda," says Campanella. "He is stoic, but at the same time he can break down and be fragile."

What sets Campanella apart from other directors is his ability to make it in both Buenos Aires and Hollywood. Not only is he the most commercially lucrative homegrown film director in Argentine history, but he has also built an impressive résumé in U.S. television, directing 16 episodes of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, as well as episodes of House and 30 Rock.

Secreto received rave reviews at top festivals like Toronto and San Sebastián, which led to a U.S. distribution deal with Sony Pictures Classics. France, Italy, the U.K., Brazil, and Israel have also inked distribution rights, guaranteeing a wider audience. Secreto will be Argentina's submission for the best foreign-language-film Oscar this year. Campanella hopes he will improve upon his 2002 experience, and not leave the red carpet empty-handed. "Perhaps the key to my movies' success is that people see their lives being told as an epic story," he says. Epic stories about their own that Argentines have finally started paying attention to.

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Mis respuestas completas al cuestionario:

-- Why do you think Argentines embrace all of Campanella's films so warmly?

Creo que de alguna manera conectan con cierta idea de "la argentinidad" que mezcla cierta confusión ética/moral, un grado de sentimentalismo y nostalgia. Además, hay un evidente cuidado de la puesta en escena y la naturalidad de los dialogos: las películas están muy bien armadas, nunca aburren, apelan a todo tipo de espectador. Y ayuda la presencia magnética de Ricardo Darin.


-- What makes "Secreto" different or better from his other films?

Lo raro del éxito del El Secreto (mayor que el de los otros filmes) es que es una pelicula más oscura y con menos humor. Pero creo que su mirada al pasado reciente es original y el thriller con final sorpresivo, si esta bien hecho, siempre tiene buen rendimiento y genera espectadores que ven la pelicula mas de una vez para buscar pistas....

-- What do you think of his relationship with Ricardo Darin? Does it continually surprise and impress you? Or do you think they work together too often?

Darin es un gran actor y eso ya no sorprende. Con Campanella es donde consigue "enganchar" mas con el público porque con él compone esos personajes de "chantas queribles" que tan bien le salen. Creo que se entienden muy bien, Darin capta lo que Campanella quiere de él y realmente parece no hacer nunca nada mal. La gran sorpresa en este filme, para mi, es Guillermo Francella, que interpreta a su amigo. Un comediante conocido por su "broad humor" que aqui compone a un personaje muy delicadamente. Y está irreconocible.