Cache: Skeletons in the closet

Julie and I just watched "Cache" (hidden, in French), a film by Michael Haneke. It is a fascinating film. A couple, Georges and Ann, receive anonymous video-tapes that consist of hours and hours of a camera fixed on their apartment. The first tape has nothing with it. The second tape, a different angle and time from the first, has attached a child's picture of a boy, blood coming from his mouth. The third, this time connected with a picture of the farm house Georges grew up in, has the picture of a chicken with its head cut off. The next is just images of some apartment building, and then a door.

We learn that Georges believes the tapes are being sent from Majid. Majid was the son of Algerian farm-hands who lived on Georges' farm as a young child. When his parents were killed in the 1961 protest by Algerians (200 of which were drowned in the Seine), Georges' parents want to adopt Majid. Georges tells a few lies about Majid, and his mother sends Majid away to a children's home.

The stage is set here: Georges' guilt becomes his moving force. He goes to the apartment that was on the video, and of course Majid is there. Georges confronts Majid (now a broken middle-aged man), and Majid has no clue what he's talking about. After Georges threatens Majid, he leaves, and they receive another video. This time the video is of the conversation Georges just had with Majid, and then Majid's reaction: Majid cries.

After this, things start to unravel. Finally, Georges goes again to confront Majid. Majid says, 'good, you're here, I want you to be here.' Then Majid brings him into his kitchen, takes out a pocket knife, and slits his juggler vein.

This film did a brilliant job showing the effect of guilt, and the reality of it. Clearly, Georges projected his guilt on Majid. We don't know if Majid sent the tapes, but if he did, he acted pretty well when he was crying. I personally think there is something profoundly theological about the tapes: they are this thing that just comes into Georges life, unannounced, almost in a transcendent way. We never learn (although the last shot makes us suspicious) who the tapes are from, and what the purpose of them was.

Now, the question of whether or not Georges should feel guilty is important. I mean, Georges was a six year old kid when he lied, and his mother ultimately made the decision to send Majid away. Six year old kids are both selfish, and lack responsibility that you would impute to adults (for good reason - they also lack the freedom!). At the same time, his mother would have presumably sent Majid away without Georges' false testimony, and Majid's life has clearly been difficult and heartbreaking.

So, Georges certain would have some guilt. Yet, Georges will not confess to his wife, or to anyone, that he does feel this guilt. It is the lack of openness, the closure between Ann and Georges, and Georges with himself that is so striking. The rôle played by husband and wife seem to be political agents: they are there just for the functioning of the house, and that's it. For Georges it only makes sense that he would unwittingly project his guilt everyone around him: he won't talk about it, while it is burning him alive.

I think it is a very profound problem, this problem of guilt Haneke brings up. We continually deal with it, do we not? We're always acting in ways that hurt others, intentionally or unintentionally, and the consequences of these actions are beyond our control. We may want to use that as an excuse for our guilt, but at the same time, if we are honesty, it matters little our "intention" (or, if you're inclined to determinism, the mechnistic functions of our "memes").

The question is, what do we then do?