Michael Haneke’s sense of humor

There is a long debated topic in film circles as to which form cinema is predominantly geared towards; there is the strictly entertainment angle, where the audience is moved by a story to laughter, tears, and consideration over a well told story; and there is the artistic angle, where cinema is considered by many filmmakers alike to be the embodiment of a complete art form, one that encapsulates all other art forms into one majestic conglomerate. And both sides will concede that art can be entertaining and that entertainment can occasionally be artistic as well. This debate has been going on for the last hundred years and shows no sign of abating. I would argue of course that cinema is simply both, like any medium can be used for multiple purposes.

One purpose, I might argue being a overshadowing presence on both sides, is one of extreme voyeurism. Film, like no other medium, allows us to take part in other people’s lives without having the guilt or shame of, say, peeping through a family’s living room window. We can see into other people lives, lifestyles, cultures, even their minds without ever having them know we were there. People too timid to raise fists in real life might find themselves drawn to the violent cinema to see what its all about. A sex-starved bachelor or bachelorette might watch films of a sexual or romantic nature (or good old-fashioned porn, but there’s another article) to see what’s lacking in their lives , and so on and so forth. All of this raises another argument, does a person with deviant curiosities make them deviant people? I have long thought that cinema serves as a useful cultural tool to provide people with the window to explore such curiosities without engaging in the act themselves.

This is evident on a cultural level. The cinema of America for instance is, while prudish regarding sex and sexuality for instance is dripping with depraved violence and vulgarity. Similar for Pacific-rim countries such as Japan and Korea whose extreme cinema is horrifically violent while the sex is quite tame. The cinema of Europe is quite the opposite; sex and nudity is widely accepted in not only film but on television adverts and city billboards. I remember watching a butter commercial in Holland where a nude woman dives into a pond, only to emerge with full-frontal nudity to spread butter on some bread at her picnic cloth. Violence is practically non-existent compared to America and Asia.
But I digress. Simply put, voyeurism is a large part of what makes movies so FUN! Hitchcock knew this well and his films were giant smashes. Less to the extreme with graphic violence for the large part, but he was depicting movies where the protagonists were casually watching other people in their private lives and unapologetically getting kicks from it.

More to the extreme side of explicit voyeurism lies Michael Haneke, whose American remake of his own Funny Games I just watched. A quick disclaimer; I have not yet seen his Austrian original, but when I learned that his remake was a shot-for-shot remake, I decided to hold off on the original and judge the new one for itself. Haneke has said that he was inspired by America’s obsession with violence in our culture when he made the original, and that he always considered it an “American film.” One that he wanted to show to a broader audience. And it is a sad fact that to broaden the appeal of a brilliant foreign production it must be told in English. But again I digress. If we watch violent cinema, it doesn’t necessarily mean we enjoy violence or want to be violent in our real lives. But on the screen it still means you can experience it without repercussions. So what if we want to see into the lives of killers? And not just some creepy, obviously broken Silence of the Lambs-esque killer, but a charismatic, thoughtful, utterly sadistic and very human killer. Here we go…

The story is a tale of sadism from the get go. We see a blissful American family in the car on their way to their summer house by the lake. They play a game in the car where the two parents try to guess the composer and composition of whatever piece the other has put in the CD player. The serene and calming music is disrupted violently when the opening titles blast onto the screen in huge, bright red letters and the soundtrack is shifted to ear-rattling death metal music. The family continues enjoying their tranquil game while the son plays his game boy, but the setup couldn’t be more clear. They are in for some funny games of two teenagers who have a much different sense of humor and entertainment. It isn’t long before two cherubic youths, deceiving those around them by dressing the local part of white shorts-clad yuppies. Arriving at the unsuspecting family’s house armed with nothing but charm and malevolence, the two youths, their names apparently Paul and Peter though the names they call each other changes constantly, begin to torture their captives with a series of physical and mental games where untimely death is only a matter of time.

Sounds cheerful right? The kind of film you would want to take the whole family to during the Easter weekend? Kids gleefully torturing and destroying an innocent family for no other reason but for their own enjoyment. Funny Games is likely to do to teenagers and tranquil family getaways what Jaws did for getting in the water.

Here’s another intriguing angle for the film; you never see any of the violence first-hand. Almost all the violence happens off-screen. This could easily be the kind of movie that would fit into the so-called “torture-porn” class of movies such as the Hostel and Saw franchises, except of course for the strange lack of violence! “Torture-porn” relies heavily on the gimmick that you are watching somebody carve another poor sap into pieces and get his rocks off during the process. Most of the discomfort arises from that visceral engagement with violence and gore. Funny Games takes the same approach but lets the viewer fill in the violence for themselves. And its not hard. Haneke is quite right in the regard that Americans are so immersed in violence that filling in the blanks of his movie is not difficult in the slightest. This is perhaps the overlying point of the movie, certainly not any kind of celebration of violence, though there is a perverse pleasure in the filmmakers to have the audience as uncomfortable as possible, something Haneke has always delighted in (see Cache or Benny’s Video to see what I mean).

(possible spoiler alert) What makes the murderous youths in the film so much more disturbing is the fact that they’re so charming and seemingly naive. They don’t have any nervous twitches, scars, heavy breathing, bizarre fetishes, or voices-from-within that usually designate serial-killers in ordinary crime movies. They have no desire to defile the bodies once they have done away with someone, they don’t desire money or property or seek revenge of any kind. They don’t target morally loose victims or someone people would miss. Its not even the act of killing they seem to look forward to so much as the sheer pleasure of destroying people mentally before doing away with them. They thrive on the games they’re playing, the abuse the victims endure. They target a family, take a night to annihilate them, then take on another almost immediately. No explanations. No reasoning. Just enjoyment of the mental anguish they’re giving their victims.

The apparent alpha of the two boys, played in the film by Michael Pitt (who is becoming highly adept at playing young sociopaths, this is not his first outing as such), playfully jerks around not only the victim family, but also the audience. No regard is given to the “4th wall” of cinema, that being the one between the action on screen and the audience themselves. In one scene he begins asking the family if they have had enough, then turns to the camera to ask the audience if they have had enough, then answers the question for everyone by wheeling out more torture. In one fantastic sequence, he even robs the family and the audience of a brief moment of catharsis when a violent act is overturned and given a second chance in order to fail. I’ve already spoiled enough if you haven’t seen it. I couldn’t possibly say more.

(here’s a real spoiler alert) So no relief is given. Not ever. There is no moment of emotional release. The killers destroy with ease, do not learn any lesson about violence, morals are not exchanged, the victims get nothing but their own destruction. The “torture porn” series of films are clearly designed to shock and unsettle, but they have the sick feature of showing you all th guts and glory, if thats what you’re into. Funny Games gives you nothing of the sort but only the shock and unsettling feelings. This is not torture porn. This is something else. But what? Is Haneke trying to say something poignant about violence? Is he trying to say something about American violence in particular? Is he trying to say something about corrupted youth? Or is he just fucking with us? Perhaps this is Haneke’s own funny game, and if that’s the case, then it is uproariously hilarious.