Code Unknown

Code Unknown; Incomplete Tales of Several Journeys (2000) is another of director Michael Haneke's deeply austere and emotionally rigid intellectual probes into the human condition; and the various psychological elements that cause problems, not only in our personal lives and relationships, but in a broader, sociological sense as well. At this point it is perhaps worth noting that the film's essay-like subtitle alludes to the style of the film, which involves a number of long, unbroken shot compositions (some longer than ten minutes) that often end abruptly, with no real sense of resolution.

Presented as a series of loosely connected vignettes that focus on the idea of character interaction as opposed to narrative direction, Code Unknown is a difficult film to appreciate, at least at the level that many of us would probably approach it. One of the main focus points here is the idea of perception; how both we as an audience and the characters in the film perceive the action unfolding from the limited point of view that we've been given. Some good examples of this would include the lengthy and suitably tense scene early on in the story; in which a number of unconnected characters all come together through a seemingly mundane event that ends with a scuffle erupting between a white teenager and a young black man, resulting in both men - and the various onlookers - being arrested. Later, midway through a particularly disconcerting scene, a toddler playing on the balcony of a high-rise apartment slips, all the while watched with horror by his terrified parents who are powerless to do anything. Then finally, towards the end of the film, we watch in eager suspense as a young Arab boy harasses Juliette Binoche's character on a Parisian metro. Throughout the film and these sequences in particular we expect something spectacular and thrilling to happen but it never seems to arrive, until, of course, we realise that 'something' is happening.

As with his most recent film, the highly acclaimed Hidden (2005), there are a number of interesting sequences in Code Unknown, which, on basis of description alone, could easily lead one to believe that they are about to watch a tense, Hollywood thriller. The film obviously couldn't be further removed from this ideal, however, with Haneke once again offering us a dour, colourless psychological study, in which characters crash into one another almost at random and cause a ripple effect that disrupts the order of everything that came before. Clearly, Code Unknown is unconcerned with thrilling the audience, at least, not in the typical sense; with the film never allowing the dramatic tension to build to anything beyond the confines of these various character vignettes that are strung together one by one in order to build up the story. This is a film that wants to enlighten with a raw depiction of everyday life; taking the viewer from moments of deadpan humour (albeit, incredibly low-key humour) to scenes that evoke a feeling of almost crippling desperation. Once again, these techniques are used to mislead the audience into thinking that the film is heading in a different, very "non-Haneke-like" direction, before switching track and confounding us all over again. If you give it some time to really get going, then the results can be oddly thrilling, and - in my opinion - probably more enjoyable and satisfying overall than anything else Haneke has directed.

Still, the film does have that sense of screaming polemic that much of the director's previous work has occasionally descended into; with the loose ends and the experiments in cinematic formalism creating a cold and intellectual exercise that will naturally turn many potential viewers away. A real shame too, because regardless of these distancing intellectual experiments, the direction, photography and acting are superb throughout, and - like The 7th Continent (1994) and Funny Games (1997) - help to weave together a beguilingly tense tapestry of guilt, anger, misery and social despair.

"Code Unknown" is truly an excellent portrayal of the never- ending multi- cultural dilemmas within a "modern" society. It is a topic that we all have to face everyday. It has become part of our lives and for most of us, we have gotten used to it, to accept it as is. I strongly recommend everyone to spend 2 hours to see what we really are going through in our society, and an issue that we think we are solving yet deep down we are ignoring it for all sorts of selfish reasons. The message in this movie has also aroused us that our younger generations are also making the same racial mistakes that we, the so- called "older generation", have all seen and some might have had already experienced not once, but several times. The unique way of editing in this film works perfectly with the story because I was very disturbed by the elongated black outs between scenes; however, the more I felt disturbed, the more I felt as if I was one of the characters, sharing their emotions and their confusions. The timing of the black outs was also a superb and fresh way to reflect a continuation of the situations in the most cleverly subtle alternative. What we see on the silver screen is actually a mirage of our reality. Instead of telling us to our face that we are having problems, it simply shows us what we are doing everyday. It is that simple.

Well, I suppose not - but he IS the most exciting and interesting new filmmaker around. I would say "young filmmaker" - only he's not young; judging from his bio he's around 60. And he's not really "new", either - he's already made five films. But his films FEEL shockingly "new" - the MATERIAL is new; and it's some measure of how glacial the pace of real aesthetic change is in this supposedly-globalized world that he is only now becoming known in the U.S.

Those of you who have seen his best-known work, "Funny Games", would probably agree with me that it is the most horrifying movie ever made. "Games" coolly subverts the conventions of the horror movie to unremittingly punish the audience for its desire for violence. The effect is unbelievably harrowing.

Now we have "Code Unknown", which is not nearly as cruel an experience as "Funny Games", but which has the same strict intellectual armature. With as radical a technique as Godard's, Haneke takes a short scuffle in the streets of Paris as the point of departure for a meditation on true knowledge in a world of chance and mischance.

Haneke breaks the film up into short, disconnected fragments, with black spaces between them. In several no words are spoken, while others turn out to be "inside" films that the "lead" character, an actress played by Juliette Binoche, is making. Many are long, single shots - sometimes gliding along to follow the characters, but sometimes rooted in one spot as the characters drift to and fro. And the "stories", such as they are, wander too, from Paris to what looks like the Balkans, as Haneke follows Binoche, her war photographer boyfriend, his brother and father, a street beggar who is deported from Paris, a young black teacher of the deaf, and a host of other ancillary characters. What they don't understand - but we do - is that the course of their lives has been largely determined by encounters with people they'll never even know.

These people may think they're drowning in "too much information" - but actually, they don't have ENOUGH information; Haneke's recurring theme is our attempt to interpret a largely-unknown reality - and the problem of our responsibility to act on that interpretation. And despite a handful of longeurs, the effect is mostly completely absorbing. Those who were fascinated by the backwards-moving "Memento" will have a field day with "Code Unknown", where we have to tease out relationships, back story, and whether or not the narrative we're watching is "really" happening at all, with a lot fewer clues than Guy Pierce ever got.

And THEN - and this is what's interesting - somehow Haneke demands that we "make up our minds" about what we've seen; we feel compelled to judge, and yet we cannot - is the kid we see mistreating a beggar really a bad kid? Is the actress really being sealed up to die in a windowless room? Was the note from "a defenseless child" really written by an abused little girl (she turns up dead, so with a shock we appreciate what's at stake in our pause to consider the issue)? "Code Unknown" offers no answers - but then neither does life. The film ends with a scarily-happy drum-pounding by a chorus of deaf children.

I suppose what's startling about Haneke is that he has such an assured technique and yet eschews almost all directoral razzle-dazzle. He's not a Darren Aronofsky, ringing a dozen eye-popping changes on an essentially-empty story. And his intense horrors are justified by the depth and purity of his concerns - unlike those of, say, Tarentino or (God help us!) Guy Ritchie. Haneke's smarts are story and conceptual smarts, not adolescent film smarts; he's wildly daring, but he's icily mature. I'd almost say he's the heir to Kubrick's mantle, but these days that might be tarring him with an unwanted brush (as I watched "Code Unknown" I suddenly realized I was glad Pauline Kael was dead - she'd feel driven to sabotage this much intellectual challenge!).

I had to see "Code Unknown" at the Museum of Fine Arts here in Boston - however, there was a substantial crowd there; word is slowly getting out about Haneke. "Funny Games" is available on video (but be warned!); as far as I know, his latest, "The Pianist" (with Isabelle Huppert - Haneke's career is obviously being helped by interest from European-mainstream actresses) has yet to achieve a U.S. release. Here's hoping we'll see it in the States sometime soon.

Jean leaves the farm and goes to his older brother Georges in Paris but he's away covering the war in Kosovo. Georges's girlfriend Anne Laurent (Juliette Binoche) is an actress. Jean throws a crumpled bag onto Maria (Luminita Gheorghiu)'s lap. She's an illegal immigrant from Romania begging on the street. Amadou (Ona Lu Yenke), an African Muslim decent, takes offense and tries to drag Jean back to apologize. Jean refuses to apologize and a scuffle ensues. The police arrives and arrests Amadou. Maria is deported. There are also scenes of deaf children.

There is the one great scene at the beginning of this movie. It is the source of the drama but the rest of the movie feels less compelling. It is simply too subtle. It doesn't follow the group to the police station. Amadou's story takes forever before it gets back to him. The various stories simply meanders to their separate destinations. The movie is like a big explosion that sends separate flames out into space but the flames just slowly goes out rather that setting off new explosions.

As per my review on Amazon.co.uk

Haneke's masterful look at a modern European city examines

exactly what it is like to 'exist' in western society. The multilayered

story has many protagonists and follows their lives after they are

linked by a single event. Anne (Binoche) is an actress, her

boyfriend Georges is a war photographer, his brother Jean has

run away from home, their father struggles to manage his farm

and keep his emotions supressed. Amidou is a first generation

african imigrant, who teaches deaf children music, his father is a

taxi driver. Maria, from Romania, has been deported from France

for begging but must make the humiliating journey back to provide

for her family.

The film is complex, yet simple. It essentially asks wheather we

can ever really communicate, wheather we are ever aware of the

significance of our actions and most devastatingly wheather we

have a duty to help even if we are not asked for help. Do we have a

responsibility.

Haneke's film is a technical tour-de-force, with perfectly sublime

performances. Binoche has not been better since her days with

Kieslowski. Her performance as the dispossessed actress is raw

and real. The final scenes devastating in their effectiveness and

simplicity.

To answer/comment on other reviews here - The drumming is symbolic - obviously of the beat of a city and of

course of a heartbeat, but also the (interesting) idea of deaf people

giving sound to other people, they are generously giving pleasure

they will not experience. The music is also one of the many

languages of the film.

The use of a fragmented narrative and loose "story" is a way of

showing the fluid nature of all our lives - reality is never neat like a

conventional film scenario.

This is a film that is hard to decipher. It will take numerous

viewings, but is certainly worth it. Do yourself a favour and stick

with it. Supreme!