Michael Haneke’s Representation of Violence. (Or: When Fiction Becomes Reality)

Paper by Michaela Pluskovich. Viewed on DVD.

Paul: Where is your hero now? In reality or fiction?
Peter: His family is in reality and he’s in fiction.
Paul: But the fiction is reality, isn’t it?
Peter: Why?
Paul: Well, you see it in the films, right?
Peter: Of course.
Paul: So, then it’s as real as the reality, which you see likewise, right?
Peter: Crap.
[Funny Games (Michael Haneke, 1997): Austria]

How did violence end up becoming one of Hollywood’s main entertainment factors? This is something I have to ask myself most of the time I go to the theater. Today, it is almost impossible to watch films that don’t contain violence at least as a side spectacle. If either as a horror movie that makes violence its only focus, or just a slapstick comedy that needs a few more laughs, we all would agree that these films do not portray the painful and horrifying reality of violence. Nevertheless, violence is one of the most popular themes in films, and with special effects and a violence longing audience there is no end of this in sight. It is not enough that we all are exposed to war, disasters, and accidents in the daily news, but we have made it into our primary entertainment as well. Not only this, but sometimes it seems that the images of bombings in Libya, or murders in your close-by city aren’t any more meaningful than those of your last summer blockbuster. In fact, due to the ubiquity of violent images seldom do people turn away from the screen in shock and terror. The reason for this can only be an ongoing desensitization to these images, caused by the constant and superficial exposure to them. Michael Haneke, a former literary and film critic and now one of the most acclaimed directors from Austria, has made it to his lifework to counteract this development of our contemporary society, and his films are “intended as polemical statements against the American “barrel-down” cinema and its dis-empowerment of the spectator” (quoted in Frey). But the director, who was awarded with the eminently respectable Palme d’Or for his film The White Ribbon (Das Weisse Band) in 2009, does not boycott the representation of violence in his films. On the contrary, Haneke has produced some of the most disturbing and violent films in contemporary cinema, which have left many spectators sick to their stomach. In this paper, I will examine the technical and stylistic method used by Haneke, which are not only characteristic for the director as an auteur, but also make up the distinctive difference between the representation of violence and its effect on society in his own films and that of mainstream society. Exemplified with the films Benny’s Video (1992), Caché (2005), and Funny Games (1997)/ (2007) it is evident that Haneke’s representation of violence is not only self-reflective, but empowers the spectator’s role by appealing to his imagination, and criticizes the ubiquity of superficial violent images.

The films of Michael Haneke are known for their ability to shock and repulse, which is in part achieved through his engagement of the audience, causing them to newly perceive the images on-screen. This reevaluation is one of the central themes to Haneke’s masterpiece Caché (2005), and is already established in the opening scene. The movie, which follows an intellectual family in Paris, who is terrorized with some mysterious surveillance tapes, starts by showing us an extended shot of a residential Parisian street with no dialogue or significant action. The still shot lasts for over two minutes with the only diegetic action of some pedestrians and bikers crossing the street until the silence is broken by a conversation between two voices in the background. After an inserted scene of the same scene during a different time, we return to the first shot, and finally, the picture on screen begins to rewind, revealing to the audience that what we are looking at on-screen is a video. And indeed, it is the same video that the characters in the film, of which we still just here their voices, are looking at as well. With regard to this we see that Haneke puts the audience in the same position as the characters in the film, both of us looking at the same image. The Austrian Alexandra Appel notices in her paper that with this technique the reality is not limited to the characters in the film, but is the reality for the spectator as well (10).

Haneke puts the spectator in the same position as the characters on-screen, and rather than just observing the images from a distance, as common in conventional Hollywood films, the audience is brought closer to the shown event by making it to their own. As stated by Brian Price in his article “Pain and the Limits of Representation,” Haneke’s use of violence “tends towards the blunt muteness of its actual occurrence in the world” (22).By doing this, he empowers the role of the spectator, challenging them to engage the images on screen, and in turn evoking feelings that come close to a real experience. As this scene is also the first one in the film, it makes a strong statement that Haneke intends to make the film into a personal experience for the viewer. Thus, when we look at violent images, they can be experienced closer to the real event as something disturbing, painful and excruciating. This relation to violence is repeated in Benny’s Video, where again in the first scene we are shown a video, this time the slaughtering of a pig. After this the video is rewound by Benny, similar as in Caché, the spectators are exposed to the same reality as the character, which puts them in the same place as Benny and causes them to assume the role of accomplice in the later murder he carries out.

Haneke’s technique of placing the audience in the role of accomplice is one of many that breaks with Hollywood traditions and causes us to ask moral questions of the violent images on-screen. Although in Hollywood films, as well as other traditional films, the spectator can also be given the role of accomplice, mostly he is not aware of this fact, and therefore, is manipulated through the images seen. However, in Haneke’s films, the spectator is intentionally made aware that they are an accomplice, and in combination with the bluntly violent images on-screen, this results in an uncomfortable and disturbing feeling for the viewer. A primary example of this is found with Paul in the movie Funny Games (1997), whose torture of a family for no obvious reasons causes the viewer to ask about the moral act of this violent entertainment. Funny Games has a similar plot to many Hollywood horror films, primarily centering around violence, however the differences are not only limited to the hopelessness of the violent scenario, in which the tortured characters have no chance to win, but is also apparent through Haneke’s style and technique. For starters, Paul, the smart and witty leader of the criminal duo, directly interacts with the audience by asking questions such as “Do you think they have a chance to survive?” or just with a mischievous wink into the camera, indicating that the viewer is part of the “funny games.” Through this interaction with the spectator Haneke is breaking down the “fourth wall” between the spectator and the film’s characters. This not only makes it clear that the spectator is an accomplice, but blurs the line between reality and fiction.

In many ways, this movie breaks the conventional rules of Hollywood films, while at the same time explicitly pointing out elements of their traditional structure and violent content. For example, when one of the tortured victims ask why they don’t just shoot them and get it over with, Peter, the other torturer, responds, “Don’t forget the entertainment value – we’d all be deprived of our pleasure,” as well as “we haven’t reached the length of a Hollywood film yet.” Another way how Haneke brings the reality of violence to the spectator is by rewinding a scene that has just occurred. Near the very end of the film, when the spectator still has a shred of hope for a positive turning point, and therefore, the survival of the victims, Anna grabs the shotgun and quickly shoots Peter, giving the audience reason to cheer and celebrate. However, when Paul finds the TV’s remote control he rewinds the scene we were just looking at to the point where he can reverse what has happened, quickly grabbing the shotgun out of Anna’s hand. By putting the expected Hollywood solution in front of us just to revoke it seconds later, Haneke achieves to torture the audience just as much as the characters in the film and again, bring the violence of the film much closer to the audience.

Haneke also warns that the ubiquity of violent images can lead to a confusion between reality and fiction. A personified example of this confusion can be found with Benny in Benny’s Video (1992). Benny is a rich kid from Vienna who spends the majority of his time in his darkened room, full of all the necessary equipment for making and watching videos, and consumes images almost 100% of the time. He does not even want to enjoy the view outside his window, instead choosing to watch it on screen via a live camera set-up. Here it is clear that the line between reality and fiction is completely indistinct. The technique of showing a screen within a screen makes the film self-reflective, and proposes the question of what is real and what is not real to the viewer, which in turn heightens the power of the images since it is difficult to ascertain the truth. This question, combined with Haneke’s stylistic techniques, bring the film closer to reality than fiction, or as Appel states, the “image becomes reality.”

Nowhere is this as evident as in the scene when Benny kills the girl he brought to his apartment. We actually see this event both played out on-screen as well as on a screen within a screen, since Benny is filming it. As soon as Benny shoots the girl she crawls out of the picture and we only see the event on the second screen, which makes it even more powerful and realistic for the viewer. The power of the scene is due to its self-reflectivity, caused by the blurring of the line between reality and fiction, since we are looking at a home made video that is being made from events that are actually happening on-screen. Because the framing of the scene is still we are only able to see a portions of the event, and thus, the actual murdering happens outside the camera’s view. We are only able to speculate how horrible the event actually is, which by activating the viewer’s fantasy and minimizing the information that is conveyed, is another way that Haneke empowers the spectator’s role. Because the viewer does not actually see everything visually, in turn one must access their own imagination, and project it into the incomplete scene, making it into a personal experience and resulting in disturbing feelings. The spectator imagines the worst scenario possible, instead of looking at easily interpretable images, which, as Benny mentions in the film, we all know are just made of “ketchup and plastic.” Therefore, the violent images that Haneke shows relate closer to the viewers reality than they do fiction, since it is in their own mind, and thus Haneke achieves his goal of counteracting the desensitization of violent images.

If the ubiquity of images desensitizes society, it is also Benny’s act of violence, or a result of this, why he is so detached from reality. Benny does not experience violence personally, rather he only sees it, and carries out violent acts to know “what it would be like.” Therefore, Haneke’s films serve as a warning for the threat of the constant presentation of violent images in society, for example in Hollywood films and the media, which results in a desensitization to actual violence related to pain and suffering. In Benny’s Video, as well as Funny Games, Haneke shows violence as something not necessary but instead resulting out of childlike curiosity and boredom.

This contrasts to Stanley Kubrick‘s representation of violence, which is shown as an intrinsic element of human nature, and something that butts heads with the rules of society. However, this is not the only difference between the Haneke and Kubrick’s. Foremost, it is Haneke’s technique and style that in his own opinion sets himself apart from mainstream presentations of violence in movies. For example, in A Clockwork Orange (1971), Kubrick points to a future dystopian version of Britain, emphasizing the ghastly omnipresence of violence. Although violence is portrayed similarly unjustifiable as in Haneke’s films, the response by the audience to this violence shows that the Kubrick failed to convey the reality of this experience. Kubrick works with dreamlike and stylized images accompanied by orchestral music, and the violent main character Alex has become an iconic symbol, as his wit and charm have made him into a more admirable than repulsive character. So, while Haneke might admire Kubrick’s work, as well as that of other accomplished director’s, he points out and criticizes with his films their failures to represent violence in an appropriate way that counteracts the desensitization of violence in society.

The only question that is left open here is whether Haneke’s intentions work for a general audience. This is especially relevant for his controversial movie Funny Games, and his later American frame-by-frame remake of the same, which represents violence in a completely pointless way and with no solution, which might be seen as a satirical approach to Hollywood structures. However, it can also be easily misinterpreted by an audience who has been “trained” by these repetitive Hollywood structures. The plot of Funny Games does not show any moral awareness or solutions to the problem of violence, but merely focuses on the repetitive torture of randomly chosen individuals by the sadistic Paul and Peter. Brian Price states that Haneke’s use of torture “is self-reflexive, [and] is pitched at questions of representation” (23), however, people who are unaware of these techniques could probably not appropriately respond to them in their intentioned way. Many might misinterpret the film as a horror film and completely miss its critical awareness of exactly this violence portrayed. So, if Haneke’s violence is from an objective point of view any different to the one in other films is up to the individual to decide.

In the end however, it is important that Haneke makes people aware of the ongoing desensitization to the increasing ubiquity of violent images, which can result in an increasingly emotionless and bleak society. This is especially true today, where we live in a global society that is exposed to wars and crime throughout the whole world, primarily presented through the media. It is important for our society to be able to show empathy for the events that take place, and respond to them in a connected and appropriate manner, in particular for events that take place in the third world and developing countries. Haneke makes an effort to remind us not to forget about the message these images portray, even though we are not exposed to it personally.

Works Cited

Appel, Alexandra. Desensibilisierung, Habitualisierung und der Verlust von Welt. Selbstreflexivitaet in Benny’s Video. Norderstedt: GRIN Verlag. 2008. Googlebooks. July 17, 2011.

Frey, Matthias. “Michael Haneke.” Great Directors. Senses Of Cinema, 57. 23 July 2011

Price, Brian. “Pain and the Limits of Representation.” The Journal of Cinema and Media, 27.2 (2006): 22-29. Project MUSE. Web. 16 July 2011.