Caché (2005)

The film that made one fall in love with cinema; the picture which opened formally restrained eyes to the impeccable wealth of filmmaking on offer to us all yet so many reject. Michael Haneke’s indisputable masterwork Caché is a piece which no matter how many times viewed, still manages to catch the spectator off-guard. It is a beguiling maze; a web of deception, a slice of manipulated life. Haneke is famed for his exceptionally bleak films that highlight all of society’s horrors often without a shred of detail, and his 2005 release completely abides by this rule, yet it is unlike anything else he – or most international filmmakers – have ever made or bettered before.

The plotting is a marvel of screenwriting; every twist is so unpredictable, every character shift feels rigid and reasonable, and the film is in a constant state of alteration even down to the final frame which screens through the credits: switch off Caché as they begin to roll and you have missed the most vital clue in discovering the mystery. Haneke constructs a frame with unprecedented skill, and forms the tension surrounding it even stronger; the audience is his victim, not the unequivocally brilliant Daniel Auteuil and Juilette Binoche who live within his menacing camera. Trust us when we say the less you know, the better as there simply is nothing more satisfying than watching this flawless picture for the first time. In my humble and indeed debatable opinion, Caché is one of the greatest films of all time and certainly my favourite; Haneke gave me a gift I never expected to receive.