There is something about 71 fragments - a chronology of chance (directed by Michael Haneke) that made quite an impression on me. Like several other movies during the 90's and the 00's, Haneke explores the place of chance in human life. Like several, maybe too many?, other movies, it is the way the story is told that makes us reflect on chance, destiny and the fragility of human life. We have seen a thousand more or less contrived techniques of weaving stories together and thereby obtaining some sort of dramatic denouement. The moral intentions of these films may be praiseworthy, but this sort of artistic device has almost become a one-trick pony by now. (Well, I'm having Babel, Crash and a few others in mind) Superficially, 71 fragments is not that different. Separate stories are told, and towards the end of the film the threads are tied together. But let's get into the details. Haneke works with (mostly) short, intense scenes which are often, as it were, cut off in the middle of the action, even in the middle of a sentence. There is a pause between every scene. A few seconds of black screen. No music, no nothing. All scenes are bristling with tension. The characters are portrayed in what they do and what they say, they are revealed in small, ordinary things. But, remarkably, we are acquainted with them immediately. In the span of a few minutes, I feel terribly close to them. (I don't feel that way very often when watching movies, but I came to think of Elephant by Gus van Sant here, for several, some of them obvious, reasons) That doesn't mean we know a lot about them. We know next to nothing about the characters, many times not even their names, but that don't make them any less real. I hesitate to point it out, but a character may be experienced as believable, as "real", without this having anything to do with identification. Sure, there is some sort of "detachment" at play here (see here) but 'detachment' here simply means that we are given the space to look for ourselves. The emotions we may feel are not forced upon us (by means of manipulation, sugary descriptions, etc.).Sometimes just a scene depicting a guy playing ping-pong by himself is loaded with the force to express so much. The explosive, mesmerizing, character of the pictures is difficult to put into words. In one scene, a middle-aged couple are having dinner. In that small scene, we watch the facade drop while their lives fall apart. But even though there is an "explosion" here, it is treated carefully. The aftermath, the stretched-out picture of two agonized faces. Two pair of hands holding on to a fork and a knife for dear life.
Sequences from the news are shown repeatedly. We watch the same sequences - about the war in the former Yogoslavia, and the Michael Jackson child molesting scandal. Jackson & genocide. In the setting of the evening news, they are presented as being of equal interest, as "information". "This happened today". (This particular aspect of the movie could easily have become extremely tasteless and - you know - cheap, but I think there are some redeeming traits of his "media criticism") I suppose one thing I came to think of while watching 71 fragments is how pictures do move us, shake us, but that there is no given form of how to give an honest account of something that is evil or corrupt. The violence that is included in Haneke's film is not graphical. It is only hinted at, or it takes other than physical forms. I find this film being a slightly more rewarding, much deeper, account of violence and cruelty than, for example, Funny games (1997) even though they might share some themes in common (a discussion about how to portray violence without it becoming exploitation or entertainment).
"Haneke is a purveyor of contemporary alienation". That expression is off-putting. But maybe there's a hint of truth in it nonetheless.
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