This past Wednesday we screened the film Cache in our film studies class. I braced myself for disappointment, because Professor Mottahedeh had forewarned us of its disaffecting style of editing. I however, enjoyed the film and found myself utterly absorbed by director Michael Haneke's vision--more so than many Hollywood blockbusters.
In what ways, exactly, was this film unconventional? And why was I so absorbed despite it all? First,Cache disregards the shot/reverse shot system and thus, does not attempt to reconstruct off-camera space. The "absent one," as film theorist Daniel Dayan calls it, remains concealed, an identity to which we are not privy. Second, as our eyes and ears, the camera never identifies with a character who is engaging in dialogue, and thus we remain suspended and excluded from any subjective meaning arising from the montage of shots. Lastly, many of the shots are long, static and uninterrupted, with a minimalist mise-en-scene that re-emphasizes our position as viewer instead of participant. The combination of these unusual methods positions us as an objective observer, to the point of intrusion, of the lives' of these characters. Thus, it is easy to see how the film could get lost in translation vis-a-vis the standard "language" of film, leaving the viewer alienated and un-"sutured."
So yes, Cache's persistence of off-screen space excludes us from the typical movie-going identification with narrative . Yes, the shot composition is jarring. Yet I argue that the film's meaning manifests not from the relationship between shots, as is classically argued by Sergei Einstein and other formalists, but through the very absence of inter-shot discourse and the eery, omni-presence of off-screen space. In a paradoxical dynamic similar to that of Fight Club, Cache's isolating effect actually "sutures" us completely and discreetly into the narrative for us to construct a meaning that parallels the characters' emotional states of mind.
Let me elaborate on this dynamic. I mention above that the specific editing methods used position us, through the vehicle of the camera, as intruders. Fittingly enough, the central conflict of the film centers on the presence of an intruder in the lives of Georges and Anne Laurent. He (or she) sends anonymous and videotapes (vaguely threatening in their omnipresence) to the Laurents house. The videos turn the family's life upside down by opening a Pandora's box full of tension, isolation, guilt, and paranoia. If Haneke had utilized the standard "grammar" of filmic language, such as shot/reverse shot, Cache would have constructed a moderately entertaining and engaging reality--but one that was typical. However, by maintaining a jarringly static camera and maintaining an intangible off-screen space , the film constructed its own meaning. Not only do we further identify with the emotions of the characters, but we are also reminded of our position behind the lens of the camera (in this case, video). Thus, we also identify with the omnipresent, yet anonymous, stalker of the Laurents whose disembodied character develops the narrative.
For example, throughout the initial scene of this film in which Georges and Annes watch the anonymous surveillance tape of their house, I found myself embodying emotions empathetic to those of the characters. As a viewer I felt tense, isolated and paranoid of what of what lurked in the off-screen space, and what was to come. In this way, I connected with the characters and the narrative on a more profound level.
In another example, we watch Georges eat his dinner and converse with his wife from just one objective, static establishing shot of the dining room. We never see his wife's face, even when she engages in dialogue with her husband. When watching this scene, I felt like an outsider, aware of the lens through which this scene was taking place. Again, I assumed the identity of an intruder, who, in his or her absence, comprises the signifying role in the film.
A final poignant example of this occurs when "Georges" and "Anne Laurent" get into their car following their visit to the police station. If operating within the standard grammatical framework, the camera view would shift to either the back seat, or a shot-reverse-shot between passenger and driver seat. As viewers, we would be part of the conversation, identifying with either character or an actively subjective listener in the back. However, the camera remains outside of the car and the sound is muffled, and this position reinforces the fact that we are notpart of their lives.
Thus, through its rejection of the shot/reverse shot method and the absence of physical character identification, Cache's meaning is generated not despite, but because of, the disconnect between shots. As viewers we experience similar emotions of discomfort and disconnect, and we also assume the identity of the elusive character from whom the plot develops. This film stands as a rebuttal to to the argument of Dayan, who in his article, "The Tutor-Code of Classical Cinema,"posits that a film's meaning manifests through the "suturing" effect of the shot/reverse shot. According to Dayan, the first shot opens a hole in our ideological relationship with the film through the presence of the unknown, a hole that the reverse shot "sutures" by replacing the "glance of a nobody" into a glance of a somebody. (116) In this way, film "speaks" and creates meaning through the ideological relationship between these shots---a meaning that we as viewers "actively interpret." (92) However, Cachestands as an exception to Dayan's theory. The long, uninterrupted shots, in their re-enforcement of the "nobody," in fact sutures us further into the film's central theme of alienation and intrusion that the film explores. The peripheral entity functions as character in itself, a paradox whose presence arises from its absence.
Dayan isn't the only theorist that this film counters. Graeme Turner, is his book "Film as Social Practice," presents film as a cultural agent with its own language, in which we can combine certain standards and codes in order to generate meaning. In addition to Dayan, Turner states that meaning arises from the relationship within and between shots. In general, this is an accurate statement. For example, in a Hitchcock clip we watched in class, he spoke of the importance of editing in generating meeting, specifically with the insert shot. An older man stares of into the distance, and his lips slowly curl into a smile. Cut to a baby, then back to the man. What Sergei Einstein calls the "montage," the juxtaposition of these two shots presents the potential meaning of an amiable old man. Now switch the baby shot with that of a scantily-clad young woman, and an entirely new meaning is generated. In this way, according to both Turner and Dayan the language of film is generated.
However, Cache, in an engaging stroke of risky technical genius, constructed meaning through the very persistence of the unknown.
In what ways, exactly, was this film unconventional? And why was I so absorbed despite it all? First,Cache disregards the shot/reverse shot system and thus, does not attempt to reconstruct off-camera space. The "absent one," as film theorist Daniel Dayan calls it, remains concealed, an identity to which we are not privy. Second, as our eyes and ears, the camera never identifies with a character who is engaging in dialogue, and thus we remain suspended and excluded from any subjective meaning arising from the montage of shots. Lastly, many of the shots are long, static and uninterrupted, with a minimalist mise-en-scene that re-emphasizes our position as viewer instead of participant. The combination of these unusual methods positions us as an objective observer, to the point of intrusion, of the lives' of these characters. Thus, it is easy to see how the film could get lost in translation vis-a-vis the standard "language" of film, leaving the viewer alienated and un-"sutured."
So yes, Cache's persistence of off-screen space excludes us from the typical movie-going identification with narrative . Yes, the shot composition is jarring. Yet I argue that the film's meaning manifests not from the relationship between shots, as is classically argued by Sergei Einstein and other formalists, but through the very absence of inter-shot discourse and the eery, omni-presence of off-screen space. In a paradoxical dynamic similar to that of Fight Club, Cache's isolating effect actually "sutures" us completely and discreetly into the narrative for us to construct a meaning that parallels the characters' emotional states of mind.
Let me elaborate on this dynamic. I mention above that the specific editing methods used position us, through the vehicle of the camera, as intruders. Fittingly enough, the central conflict of the film centers on the presence of an intruder in the lives of Georges and Anne Laurent. He (or she) sends anonymous and videotapes (vaguely threatening in their omnipresence) to the Laurents house. The videos turn the family's life upside down by opening a Pandora's box full of tension, isolation, guilt, and paranoia. If Haneke had utilized the standard "grammar" of filmic language, such as shot/reverse shot, Cache would have constructed a moderately entertaining and engaging reality--but one that was typical. However, by maintaining a jarringly static camera and maintaining an intangible off-screen space , the film constructed its own meaning. Not only do we further identify with the emotions of the characters, but we are also reminded of our position behind the lens of the camera (in this case, video). Thus, we also identify with the omnipresent, yet anonymous, stalker of the Laurents whose disembodied character develops the narrative.
For example, throughout the initial scene of this film in which Georges and Annes watch the anonymous surveillance tape of their house, I found myself embodying emotions empathetic to those of the characters. As a viewer I felt tense, isolated and paranoid of what of what lurked in the off-screen space, and what was to come. In this way, I connected with the characters and the narrative on a more profound level.
In another example, we watch Georges eat his dinner and converse with his wife from just one objective, static establishing shot of the dining room. We never see his wife's face, even when she engages in dialogue with her husband. When watching this scene, I felt like an outsider, aware of the lens through which this scene was taking place. Again, I assumed the identity of an intruder, who, in his or her absence, comprises the signifying role in the film.
A final poignant example of this occurs when "Georges" and "Anne Laurent" get into their car following their visit to the police station. If operating within the standard grammatical framework, the camera view would shift to either the back seat, or a shot-reverse-shot between passenger and driver seat. As viewers, we would be part of the conversation, identifying with either character or an actively subjective listener in the back. However, the camera remains outside of the car and the sound is muffled, and this position reinforces the fact that we are notpart of their lives.
Thus, through its rejection of the shot/reverse shot method and the absence of physical character identification, Cache's meaning is generated not despite, but because of, the disconnect between shots. As viewers we experience similar emotions of discomfort and disconnect, and we also assume the identity of the elusive character from whom the plot develops. This film stands as a rebuttal to to the argument of Dayan, who in his article, "The Tutor-Code of Classical Cinema,"posits that a film's meaning manifests through the "suturing" effect of the shot/reverse shot. According to Dayan, the first shot opens a hole in our ideological relationship with the film through the presence of the unknown, a hole that the reverse shot "sutures" by replacing the "glance of a nobody" into a glance of a somebody. (116) In this way, film "speaks" and creates meaning through the ideological relationship between these shots---a meaning that we as viewers "actively interpret." (92) However, Cachestands as an exception to Dayan's theory. The long, uninterrupted shots, in their re-enforcement of the "nobody," in fact sutures us further into the film's central theme of alienation and intrusion that the film explores. The peripheral entity functions as character in itself, a paradox whose presence arises from its absence.
Dayan isn't the only theorist that this film counters. Graeme Turner, is his book "Film as Social Practice," presents film as a cultural agent with its own language, in which we can combine certain standards and codes in order to generate meaning. In addition to Dayan, Turner states that meaning arises from the relationship within and between shots. In general, this is an accurate statement. For example, in a Hitchcock clip we watched in class, he spoke of the importance of editing in generating meeting, specifically with the insert shot. An older man stares of into the distance, and his lips slowly curl into a smile. Cut to a baby, then back to the man. What Sergei Einstein calls the "montage," the juxtaposition of these two shots presents the potential meaning of an amiable old man. Now switch the baby shot with that of a scantily-clad young woman, and an entirely new meaning is generated. In this way, according to both Turner and Dayan the language of film is generated.
However, Cache, in an engaging stroke of risky technical genius, constructed meaning through the very persistence of the unknown.
I thought it was ingenious to analyze Cache first by seeing the apparent “flaws” of the film that did not match the American Hollywood archetype, especially the idea of ridding the viewers of subjectivity in defining the story. The camera, acting as our only mediator from the audience to the fictional world, impartially records the events without emphasizing any one character. Interestingly enough, the videos sent by the stalker seem to do the same thing – show footage of nothing. This odd connection between the videos and the way the movie’s camera operates is not a coincidence. The feeling of discomfort comes from the absence of the normal plotline that we find so essential in not only film but also in reality. This explains why George became increasingly infuriated by the films that showed nothing. True, he thought that Majid was attempting revenge, but I believe the director wanted to add this element into the film. I completely agree that it was the disjointed nature of the film that helped to bring the story into being. The point that we are NOT a part of the characters lives helps to put us in the shoes of the stalker.
ReplyDeleteYour point that the films meaning is not in the relationship between shots but through the absence of the normal elements of the "grammar" of film made me really think. While I agree with you that the fact that Cache did not have the standard shot reverse shot format and had very long takes really enhanced the way I was drawn into the film, I have to disagree that this can serve as a rebuttal to Dayan and Turner's arguments, and most of film theory in general. While Cache's use of this format is brilliantly executed, I feel that it works mostly because of the fact that the movie is at the heart a thriller, even if it is not in the most conventional sense. Like you said, the techniques used in Cache help us not only to feel the feelings of confusion of the characters, but also to identify with the maker of the videotapes, the "intruder" in the shots. This is really the essence of Cache. If it had been shot in a more conventional sense it would have probably not been as interesting. However, what I think would be really fascinating to explore is if this technique would be as successful in suturing the viewer, through its idea of "non-suturing," in a film that did not have the same unknown stalker storyline. It would also be interesting to explore Haneke's other work, to see if this style shows up in any of his other films. If not, than I really applaud him for using this technique, mostly because of its remarkable ability to give the viewer a feeling of being an outsider.
ReplyDeleteThe direction of this film is certainly disjointed and original. It challenges conventions that are normally used. At first, I was slightly put off by the direction, but as the story continued to progress, I started to understand the direction slightly more. It was his attempt to keep us out of the lives of the main characters. However, the plot of the story revolved around intrusion, so there's some irony in his direction.
ReplyDeleteYet, I'm not sure if much of the meaning of the film is derived from off screen space. I say this because I'm not sure if the film adequately defines itself in whole.
It is very ironic that the alienation of the viewer, as you describe, really is what draws the viewer in. Right from the start we are jilted by Haneke's unusual choice of filming to a point that we are forced to watch from a distance, as an "objective observer". I love that you consider what the film would be like if Haneke had used the standard "grammar" of filmic language, whether the same tension and anxiety could be experienced with such traditional methods. Although, I don't know that I follow your argument that this is an unusual case of suturing. My understanding of the term is that the viewer is so involved in the story that they forget they are watching a construction of images. I think what you mean to say is that when we are forced to watch from a distance, we must become more active observers which results in a more engrossing film-watching experience. This makes it possible to "identify with the omnipresent, yet anonymous, stalker of the Laurents" who is more relevant to us as we watch from the viewfinder of the camera rather than from the eyes of the protagonist.
ReplyDeleteYou said: "I mention above that the specific editing methods used position us, through the vehicle of the camera, as intruders."
ReplyDeleteResponse: I think that is the problem I have with this film. I was placed in a very negative position from the beginning and that lasted throughout the film. Even though, intelligently, I know that as a moviewatcher I am a voyeur into the people's lives on screen I feel it is the director's duty to not make me feel that way. I should just mesh myself into these peoples' world. But the director of Cache', with his limited reference to off screen space, made me feel like I was exactly what I am: a moviewatcher. There was no magic or no "getting lost in the movie."