Le ruban blanc

An unflinchingly-nihilistic movie that explores the darkness of humanity and authoritarianism, The White Ribbon is set in a fictional village in Germany just prior to World War I and tells the tale of a series of strange events and crimes that upset the peace of the local society. Shot with a gorgeously bleak white-and-black color palette and heralded by excellent performances (special props to the child actors who all deliver genuine and convincing showings), this is a film that, despite having no scares in the traditional sense, is at its core a horror movie: less of the chainsaw-wielding masked-monster type, more of the depressing Shakespearian-tragedy kind.

Like Haneke's earlier movie, Caché, The White Ribbon presents itself as a mystery and whodunit-type affair, but only as a framing device. It is less-interested in the solution to the crimes and is instead more about exploring the people surrounding the heinous events: how they are impacted, their reactions to the whole thing, and the implications that the crimes have on who they really are. By having the crimes subtly mirroring the actions and customs that the villagers have traditionally practiced and accepted as social norms, the movie cleverly and effectively forces the characters to face their own selves in a disturbing new light - even if only briefly, and even if they don't realize it.

The pacing of the movie is on the slower side, and viewers that are seeking thrills or definitive resolutions are likely to be left somewhat unsatisfied. However, if you are looking for a visually breathtaking film that delivers a chilling commentary on the roots of human evil that will leave a lasting impact, The White Ribbon is a fine pick.

The White Ribbon is a film that only Haneke could make. It's bleak, upsetting, perverse, and so true to the human condition that it's hard to watch, yet you won't want to look away. It forces you to think about how a society treats its children, and what those children will do when they've grown up and run the society. The cinematography alone is enough reason to watch this film.

In an interview with the French newspaper "Le Monde" on 10/20/09, published on 10/21/09, Michael Haneke has explicitly and unequivocally declared his intentions in making the movie "The White Ribbon":

He intended to make a movie about the roots of evil. He said that he believed that the environment of extreme, punitive and sexually repressive protestantism in Germany, has laid the groundwork for Fascism and Nazism. He also said that he saw the same patterns developing in fundamentalist Muslim societies today, and that it is those societies that today were spawning terrorists and suicide bombers. Finally, he expressed the sentiment that "The White Ribbon" is a movie against ALL extremisms.

Michael Haneke has directed his vision in a very masterful and artful way: the cinematography, the acting, and the script are all superb.

The only problem I have is with the vision itself: The environment certainly plays a role, but to explain evil exclusively as the product of one's environment is simplistic and goes against common sense observation: The majority of people on this earth have grown up under repressive regimes and yet have NOT turned out to become murderers, mass murderers, terrorists or suicide bombers. Something is missing in the equation.

Le ruban blanc (2009) is a desperately dark story unfolding in a Protestant village of northern Germany just before the First World War. This microcosm is composed of a baron, a pastor, a doctor, ... and the plebs. Strange accidents will succeed one after the other, some worthy of a despicable barbarism, and will gradually pertain to a punitive ritual. The film is based on a few abject characters and Michael Haneke masterfully films the darkness that ineluctably infiltrates the hearts of the fellow citizens from this German provincial environment, thanks to an aesthetic apotheosis and a cinematic sobriety. As a synthesis: Le ruban blanc (2009) is a masterpiece. 8/9 of 10.

Few film auteurs can match the consistency of Michael Haneke, and once again the Austrian filmmaker has come up trumps with an exquisite and brooding mediation on repression, tradition and the sins of the father.

Shot in stunning black and white, the film chronicles a series of mysterious events in a town leading up to the outbreak of WWI. The pace is slow and thoughtful, and the film is reference to August Sander while being a respectful throwback to the German expressionists whose work would come out of the horrors the film's narrative seems to foreshadow.

The hallmarks of Haneke's body of work are all there – elegiac tone, clinical editing, wincingly frank dialogue – but in many ways The White Ribbon stands alone in the canon. It is a challenging work that will polarise audiences but represents a breathtaking new wave not just in the director's career but in European cinema.

Some might say the film's inherent flaw is that there is no-one to root for, but this is perhaps its key strength. It's certainly plausible that this is Haneke's intention: he wants to position us as mute outsiders to a slowly creeping menace, unable to have a say in the invisible horrors that await us. The result is a deadening and thoroughly rewarding experience - a combination few filmmakers could hope to achieve.