Sunday 20 December 2009

The White Ribbon / Das weisse Band - Eine deutsche Kindergeschichte (2009)

The weight of expectation for a Palme d'Or winner is incredible, more so than with an Oscar winner or any other prize. The prestige attached to the Cannes prize is deserved too- would Driving Miss Daisy have won, or Crash, or Titanic, or Rocky, or My Fair Lady? The only undeserving winner I can think of is Richard Lester's 'The Knack... And How To Get It'. Forty-five years ago; I think I can forgive them that.

The reason I mention this is that the only two things I knew about the film going in was that Michael Haneke wrote and directed it and that it was a winner at Cannes. Plenty to live up to then. And it has taken me four days of reflection to collect my thoughts before noting them down.



I’m trying hard to avoid spoilers and only talk thematically and in abstract terms.

The film opens in austere monochrome (it appears almost sepia, however, which simply adds to the authentic-feeling historical context) in the year leading up to the declaration of the misleadingly-titled Great War. The film recounts a series of increasingly gruesome events in a relatively prosperous rural village but is neither whodunnit nor horror story- not in the conventional sense anyway. The film is a discourse on dependency and subservience and the breeding of resentment and of repression of dissent and the repercussions of all of these things and more. That the film is focused upon a group of children who would have been adults as the National Socialist party rose to power in Germany is, of course, pivotal to the theme. It is also crucial to bear in mind that it was made in a time when we have seen atrocities perpetrated by subservient extremists and those atrocities can be seen to have led to repression and victimisation of others in response.

The prosperity of the village I mentioned earlier is dependent upon The Baron- aside from the teenage Nanny, none of the adults are known by name only their title- and his patronage ensures that he is beyond reproach. When a farmer's wife is killed in an accident he dare not speak out against the Baron's Foreman for fear of losing his employment. His impetuous son, against the Farmer's instructions, does so leading to the ostracism of his entire family and his father's eventual suicide. The Baron acknowledges the Farmer's loyalty ("he would rather cut off his tongue than speak in defence of his son") and yet still strikes them down with ruthlessness and malice.

The same strict and unforgiving discipline is imposed by The Lutheran Pastor on his young children- and here I feel is the key relationship between the events of the film and the later events in the Germany of the 1930s. However well-intentioned or otherwise his discipline may be- and, like all else in the movie, this remains ambiguous- it breeds violent malcontent, hatred, victimisation and bullying. The scene in which he browbeats his teenage son and instils him a mortal fear in order to modify his behaviour is startling. The power he wields over the impressionistic teenager is abused in the most cruel of ways. In such circumstances, even the kind hearts of children (the tenderest moment in The White Ribbon occurs when The Pastor is touched deeply by an act of generosity from his youngest child) can and do turn sour.

In such circumstances, evil breeds. Incest, bullying, violence, emotional abuse, animal cruelty and even murder are hushed-up or accepted within the village. The corruption of the collective soul of a group of people has rarely been more starkly depicted. The deliberate, painstaking narrative and beautiful yet harrowing direction allow the Auteur to weave complex and challenging themes around a few key events. It is a masterful film with Haneke eliciting superb performances from a largely juvenile cast to tell a simple tale which builds in depth and meaning relentlessly from first to last.

The first victim of the horrifying events of the film is the Doctor and immediately he is presented as a figure evoking sympathy when he returns to the village midway through the film. Being the village’s Doctor and returning in response to his devoted infant son’s attempt to walk from the village to find him obviously strengthens the impression. But, of course, things in Haneke’s film are far from this simple and the sympathy we feel for the Doctor dissipates as we learn more about his personality, behaviours and lifestyle. Where the Pastor's cruel verbal abuse of his son can at least be understood if not accepted, the Pastor's no less abhorrent treatment of the midwife is less easily explicable. The control he wields within his household is akin to the Baron’s authoritarianism within the community, allowing him to perform the grossest acts without fear of either retribution or even mute defiance. His unchecked autonomy is treated as an invitation to test the limits of his capacity to inflict suffering- is there no limit to the things that these people will allow? And again we are compelled to reflect upon the film in relation to the grotesque human atrocities of the past century and this one.

I spoke earlier about the film being a whodunnit and that remains the case - the audience are told explicitly from the outset that these are the Schoolteacher’s recollections of events which- it transpires- are unresolved. That ambiguity paints up a very clear question which speaks for the whole moral context of the piece- who is to blame? Can we blame the Baron for acting with impunity when no-one dares challenge him? Can we blame the villagers for their subservience when he strikes with the wrath of Jehovah? These crimes could be retaliatory or acts of transferred vengeance- where does the blame lie then? For such complex moral issues there are no easy answers and Haneke offers none, he merely poses the question. The village accepts the Baron’s tyranny and this begets misplaced retribution and a kind of mass tyranny perpetrated by the children. The sins they learn in the home are repeated and amplified within the village. Which returns us to the original context of these being the future adults of 1930s Germany; where do we apportion our blame then?

Magnificent. A film of incredible power. I was gobsmacked.