Do you remember a couple of years back a little film called Funny Games? It starred Naomi Watts and Tim Roth and was quite gruesome. About a family who, when vacationing, we’re tortured and “played” with by a couple of psychotic young men? Is this ringing any bells? Well, its okay if it doesn’t because you didn’t miss anything by not seeing it. The film was pointless and truly lacked any kind of point (maybe it was a comment on the torture porn industry, but if that’s the case the film became what it was trying to argue). It was also too twisted to really sit through (“sit through” = “wasting an hour and a half of your life”). However, Funny Games was directed and written by german filmmaker Michael Haneke.
I hadn’t heard of Haneke until Funny Games (and really didn’t care to hear anything about him after sitting/sifting through that crock of shit), but when I heard tell of the movie The White Ribbon (Das Weiss Band – German Title), I became very intrigued. The film was getting rave reviews and from the looks of it, it looked very intense and beautiful. I waited and waited for it to come to my town and it skipped on its merry way, as most good films do when you live in the Bluegrass. And it wasn’t until months later (just last night) that I finally decided to put in my Netflix-rented copy of The White Ribbon.
Automatically, I was deeply intrigued. The film opened on a beautiful German landscape, stark black and white film and high grain added to the beauty and rustic feel the the scene. A man was riding horseback towards the camera and you could faintly here the sounds of a summer’s day. Then the voice of an older Gentleman cut in and it was so deep and calming and worn out that the stage was set entirely for what was to occur, which would prove itself to be an exhausting and harrowing journey into the depths of an old town set right after the turn of the century.
The storyline was about a series of mysterious tragic incidents that have occurred and how the townsfolk ultimately cope with the situation. However, it was the true pain and life that Haneke put into his characters and script that really gave it full bravado. At first, they almost seem like typical villagers and farmers who deal with the regular everyday stresses of the world they live in and the time they raise their children in. However, as the film progresses you see faint hints of evil lurking in the children. At one point, it may be something they say and at another it may just be the way they carry themselves and stare into the eyes of their elders.
In one of the opening scenes, the pastor ties a white ribbon around two of his children’s arms because they misbehaved and ran off into the night. He does this because the white represents purity and innocence and should stick there as a constant reminder to the young kids. Yet, this cannot mask the what seems to lurk beneath their thoughts and motives. And it is not only the children, but the adults who also show forms of brutality. There is a scene in which the town doctor tells his midwife (who he’s has been having a love affair with for many years, after his wife had passed) that he no longer wants her because she is “flabby, ugly and has bad breath” He tells her she disgusts him and asks her “why don’t you go die?”. This scene is almost painful to watch, but again Haneke executes it so flawlessly and beautifully that you’re mind and even soul are affected deeply.
I”ve also never seen such captivating cinematography in a film until this one. Every moment, every frame has something in it that is symbolic. Every image tells the story of the characters and what surrounds them. It’s like looking at an photo gallery of early 20th century village life. And this is what truly makes a film a piece of art. To look and listen and focus and see every moving gear that pushes the film deep into its depths. No matter how dark and how intense the storyline is, The White Ribbon is one of the finest and greatest pieces of filmmaking I have ever seen.
Graker and Tandy: A Movieblog 