Dissociation explored in Michael Haneke’s Happy End
Nothing is ever so singular for there to be a happy ending. Too many stories are in existence and are interlocking for the narrative to ever end.
It is fair to say then, that Happy End doesn’t doubt the possibility of contentment so much as it questions the idea of an end.
Written and directed by Austrian Michael Haneke, after his critically acclaimed film Amour of 2012, the film follows a familiar thread shedding light on the ever- widening social distance between people that goes largely unaddressed.
Happy End competed for the Palme D’Or. Although The Square ( directed by Ruben Östlund) won the Golden Palme, Happy End is filled with familiar European film talent. Isabelle Huppert, a familiar face at Cannes, has worked with Haneke on four films, one of which, The Piano Teacher ( 2001), garnered her a best actress award. In the film she plays the role of a mother who is somehow oblivious to her surroundings.
Jean- Louis Trintignant was in Haneke’s last film alongside Emmanuelle Riva. Any lover of French cinema is bound to be an admirer of hers. Trintignant delivers a brave performance in Happy End that can only be explained as something that lacked the comfort of knowing where the character begins and ends. Having a foundation of trust and friendship among the director and the actors creates a curious dynamic and, watching the film, something more that what was intended seems to be revealed.
Longtime followers of Haneke will appreciate the self- referential moments in Happy End that offer us a look into a world that’s changed but still struggles with the many of the same issues.
Happy End is unlike Amour in that the story is unaware of its sadness. The characters — and there are many — acknowledge the cycle of life and death but are numb to it. Their wealth provides some means of coping and insulating themselves from it. Some characters are incapable of having intimate encounters with one another without it resulting in a black eye. The solution is to hire a lawyer to be present for all conversations. Though this sounds comedic, Haneke tells it in a way that audience members might empathize with the absurd decisions of the characters.
The film rarely has any dialogue that’s meaningful. Conversations are trivial; feelings are expressed through odd behaviours, each unique to the individual. The film utilizes many contemporary forms of moving image and creates a fresh cinema experience by incorporating images from surveillance and social media. Haneke’s concept of modernity and the technological era is a comment on how that is merely a product of those who came before us. Dissociation and detachment are symptoms of any age. In the film’s most revealing moments of dialogue, distinctions between what
we see on the screen and what’s in the immediate world around us are explored. We come to realize that though our social bubble has widened, our skin has thinned and we have become numb.
The presence of refugees in the film and their silent roles demonstrates the ignorance of the characters as well as their failed opportunities to live satisfying lives. The protection that screens offer is only a form of deceit that informs insensitivity. In the end, most of us live uninformed lives while practising black and white reasoning. Yes, this is an insulated and safe way to live, but what is life without nuance and colour?