Interview with Michael Haneke from POSITIF, December 2000.

This is the second time, after 71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance that you opt for a structurally fragmented story. You seem to be very interested in this type of narration?

For me, it's not an interest but more of a need, because entertainment cinema claims we can show reality as a whole, which isn't true. If cinema wants to be responsible, i. e. be a real art, it must realize that our perception of the world is naturally fragmented. Thus esthetic ways must be found which allow us to transfer this fragmented view onto the screen. Today, no writer would dare say that he could re-transcribe the entire world in a book. He too will think of writing methods that will lead him to reproduce this same fragmented perception of existence. We are dealing with an attitude that certainly doesn't belong to the modern world - it has always been this way -, but we are more aware of it nowadays. It is my personal way of working. It's not a fascination with fragmentation: this is a very natural result of this possibility of having this need.

Besides, it is a major theme found in all your films, this loss of the sense of reality which Westerners suffer from nowadays. ..

Exactly. I belong to a generation who was able to grow up without television being continually present. This way I was able to apprehend the world directly, without an intermediary. Today, on the contrary, children learn about reality through films, and reality is presented on television in two different ways: the reality of documentary programmes, and that of fiction. I think that the medias have played an important role in this loss of the sense of reality, but this is not the only reason. In the industrialized world we live in, and for which I make my films, we also take part in refusing reality. For example, we don't want to recognize what we dislike. Thus we build internal, psychological, spiritual walls.

How did the script for Code Unknown come to fruition?

There were several things which led me to write this script. Firstly the call from Juliette Binoche who wanted to work with me, then the idea I had of making a film about immigration, about the contrast between rich people in a host country and poor immigrants who surrender themselves to this country; a contrast which can only get bigger in the new century which is about to begin. I had noticed that there are two cities where one can witness this type of multi cultural society, London and Paris. When I received the call from Juliette, already having this topic in mind, I saw it as a coincidence and I decided to make the film in Paris, where I went to carry out some research for several months. I met some people from the black community, illegal Romanian immigrants - the problems of which I already knew a little about as I had touched on them through a character in 71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance; then I returned to Austria to assemble. .. my material! But this only represents the film in terms of material, its story, its plot. The main interest of the film goes beyond this theme of immigration.

Do you remember the first fragment which you retained for the script?

No, because I make a lot of notes; but when the day comes when I think I have enough things, I start cutting things out. Each idea is transcribed onto a little sheet of paper, and I assemble these ideas on a big board. This is the longest, the most important task. The general structure is everything for me. Writing the script is quick. It's easy to write a scene the context of which is already known. As for writing dialogues, that's a joy, and is even quicker to do! Putting everything together is much more complicated and takes time. For that reason I don't start writing until I have the whole structure in my head. For this film, I started with the first scene you see, but I don't remember the fragment which I retained in the first place.

When editing, did you proceed to make changes to the order of the transition of the fragments in relation to the order set out in the script?

Yes, there were some transformations, because, throughout the shoot, we realized that the final duration was going to be longer than we had foreseen. Four scenes which appear in the script have thus disappeared: two were left out because we already knew that the film would be at least two hours long, but they were not absolutely fundamental scenes; and likewise before the shoot, two scenes which I thought were failures and which were also not needed! As a result, I was obliged to restructure everything, not a lot, but a little all the same. Since then I have forgotten what precisely.

This writing in linked fragments about a certain number of characters makes your film belong to a sub genre called "choral". However, does Code Unknown seem to differ from this a little?

71 Fragments and Code Unknown are different from Short Cuts, American Beauty or Magnolia, a genre which is currently fashionable. These films tend to pick up the threads of their stories at the end. After making 71 Fragments I tried to do the contrary, or something much more complicated. I prefer following all these threads without losing them, in perfect continuity, without ever having to come back to them and explicitly link them. This was my main concern whilst working out the structure of Code Unknown. It's very difficult to tell a story in that way.

Your use of sequence shots involves the viewer in identifying the protagonists and the way in which tehy are manipulated by the director. In other words, is the sequence shot a matter of realism as well as a calling into question of the reality which is shown?

I used sequence shots in Code Unknown for several reasons. Firstly, in order to find a fixed structure for the fragments, like in a puzzle, but also to separate the "film scenes" from the actual film, which are shown in the usual way. Another reason is to let each scene take place in real time, a way of not manipulating time; which is also a sort of manipulation, because I am showing that the film scenes in the film are just as artificial as the other scenes. In fact, in Code Unknown, everything is a matter of manipulation. I play on that, because we know that cinema manipulates the viewer; and it's not about knowing this, but feeling it, of having a deeper understanding of it. This is the difference between the treatment of these two types of scenes. Moreover people confuse them. Take the swimming pool scene for example, which is edited normally, many people mistook it for a real scene in the film. By using these two opposing esthetics I also wanted to show that viewers taken in by a well constructed story can be completely manipulated. .. just as I had wished!

Nevertheless one feels more involved than manipulated, for example in the underground scene, which can be perceived as an actual contemporary document.

It's not contradictory; in order to create an artificial universe, one always develops a situation in which one isn't involved. This is where the danger comes from which cinema represents: one can make people believe that they are involved in a situation up to the point that they are no longer capable of coldly judging, of remaining on the outside of what is happening. That's what the majority of film makers who play with identification do. I always fight against this idea of identification a little. I offer the viewer the chance to identify himself, and immediately afterwards, with the help of black outs for example, I say to them: Stop using your emotions so much and you will be able to see more clearly!

How do you prepare your sequence shots?

It's much more difficult than a normal cut, but I had very good actors, an excellent assistant, Alain Olivieri, who simplified the task with the many extras , such as in the second scene (in the street) and the restaurant one. For the street scene, we had three days: one for actor/camera rehearsals, one for the positioning of the extras in front of the camera, and one for shooting. There were thirty two takes. In actual fact, we interrupted several as soon as there was a problem. Nonetheless we were able to do eight or nine complete takes. The worst thing was making the final choice, because of course we never had a perfect take. Maybe the beginning was better, so we chose that take, but afterwards we found mistakes. .. As usual, I worked on the sound a lot and I would take the sound from a different take to the one we actually used. For the restaurant scene, we had a day of rehearsals and a day for the shoot in which I did thirty-four takes! For the underground scene, we had to work very quickly, because we couldn't start until after midnight and we had to stop at 4. 00 am. We had to do everything within two or three hours: it was hard! But I have to say that I had done a lot of work previously with the two young people involved; we rehearsed before shooting, during the casting, then at weekends, because they were non-professionals. The young Arab, Walid Afkir, has an extraordinary talent. We found him by chance in the street.

Tell us about the black outs between fragments.

I had already used them in The Seventh Continent and 71 Fragments. These black outs directly relate to the different scenes. They create a true sense of fragmentation. In The Seventh Continent, their length was according to the depth of the scene. If there was a lot to reflect on in the scene, I made the black out longer. In this film, as in 71 Fragments they all last 2 seconds. Unfortunately the projectionists do not always respect them when they are at the end of a reel and even worse: in many festivals they just cut them straight out, except in Director's Fortnight in Cannes! I had to put an explanatory text in with each reel! To come back to the subject of fragmentation, I also opted for other procedures such as clean cuts in the dialogue: in the scene with the letters from the photographer, the recital is interrupted in the middle of a word; in other scenes a question has only just been asked when there is a cut so that the answer isn't given. Complete reality cannot be understood either in film or in daily life. We know very few things!

Since The Seventh Continent, your cutting, at first very understated, very bressonian, has progressively increased from film to film.

In The Seventh Continent, I dealt with the objectification of our lives which are now determined by a whole series of facts. That implied a very specific kind of esthetic. I was well aware of the fact that a long shot has a different meaning in cinema than it has in television. But in television it is unusual to find a series of shots which are very close at hand, this led me to believe that it was the appropriate language with which to convey the concept of the objectification of the individual. I went back to this esthetic with 71 Fragments: there is a link between this film and The Seventh Continent, likewise between Benny's Video and Funny Games which deal with one set of themes. There is always a close link between form and content. As a result, I am never bound to one esthetic in particular. But I think that whatever the chosen style is, my films are recognizable.

How do you work on your sound track?

The soundtrack is more or less already determined in the script. I even write the sounds in capital letters in order to distinguish them from the rest, which is written in normal sized letters. I try and describe them as precisely as possible, but on the shoot everything depends on the physical context which the actors create, their movements, the sounds all this brings about. I treat sounds along in the same way that I treat images and make sure that the end result corresponds to what I had anticipated. Having said this, sound implies a different kind of work than the image does: there are things one doesn't manage to record: so we have to find an alternative.

How do you direct your actors?

It's difficult to say. But in my case, the completed film always corresponds entirely to the script: I draw a story board, nothing is added during the shoot, except what the actors can contribute to their characters drawing on their own personality, their sense of creativity. The most important thing as far as actors are concerned is the mutual trust which creates a feeling of security. Then one can go much further than one normally would. Fred Zinneman, an Austrian film-maker was asked why his actors always played so well in his films. He replied that this was due to two things: a very good casting, and the fact that errors should always be avoided! It's a philosophy I adhere to. As for my particular way of working with actors, I am very persistent, I do takes until the actors give me what I had in mind. I can't compare my work to that of other directors, because I have no idea how they work. But I am absolutely convinced that one must love the actors. I love them a lot.

A strong scene in Code Unknown is the one with the photographer, on the underground, who takes hidden portrait shots of the travellers.

These are photos taken by Luc Delahaye, quite a well known war photographer who is also my friend; I met him through Raymond Depardon, who I know well and who had the idea of making a film about a war correspondent. The latter - who I don't know - had composed a piece of text which Depardon gave me because he had abandoned the project in the meantime. This aroused my interest in taking a photographer specialized in war photography as a character, because it allowed me to introduce another level of reality through his photos. Then Luc offered me a book with photos taken by him on the underground, and I thought it was an amazing idea for the film. We thought about making him re-do them, but this would have produced photos which had been consciously taken and would have been totally different. It is better to photograph beings who aren't aware of the fact that their photo is being taken. It's not about reproduction but about creation.

Where does the title come from?

From my first impression of Paris, when I found out that you can't get in anywhere without knowing the code to a building. And this for me was a very good first image in relation to the film's contents. Like the preface you read before starting a novel and which tells you that, without the correct code, you cannot decipher the feelings which you are about to be confronted with: you are going to remain on the outside and there will be no communication. It is thus a title which has a double meaning.

What is your interpretation of the drum performance - as paradoxical as it is dynamic- by the group of hard of hearing (the deaf believe in the gretest joy of sounds) in relation to the title, Code (one makes codes to protect oneself) unknown (but without the code one can no longer communicate)?

Will Art be the only refuge left to man?

Yes, I think so. Art is the only thing that can console us! But each viewer must choose his own answers depending on his circumstances. It has no use whatsoever if he finds answers which don't come from within. All that does is provide him with a good conscience.

You studied philosophy. Did that have a direct influence on your films?

No, I don't think so. Like all young people who study philosophy, I looked for answers to matters that concerned me. But very soon you realize that philosophy doesn't provide any solutions. Thus I can't speak of a philosophical influence on my work. At the time there were people who influenced me, such as Hegel, because my teacher was a follower of his; for that reason, philosophy began and ended more or less with Hegel for him. In our studies we went as far as the Vienna circle, but without really exploring it. Like all artists, I think that Wittgenstein influenced me a lot, but not in the sense that one tried to take over the world, more in the sense that, as he himself said, it is better to remain silent than try to express the inexpressible. I was particularly attracted to the mystic aspect of Wittgenstein's thought.

Where does your interest in the various destructive processes of Western man come from?

I believe I am a creative person who is sensitive to every kind of suffering. I can't tolerate suffering very well, this could thus be an explanation. To be honest, I have difficulty in identifying the reasons which led me to write my story. I feel like a centipede whom one asks how he walks: he thus becomes incapable of moving! This always reminds me of The End of Violence by Wim Wenders, which starts by raising the question of what the definition of violence is. I also asked myself this question; the answer which I found is that violence is the last appeal to power against the will of others who then become subjected to it.

A very disturbing aspect of your previous film, Funny Games, was that the two torturers imposed their power on their victims by means of a guilt process. When a code becomes unknown, doesn't one take part in the same process?

All my films contain the theme of guilt. Funny Games was a metaphor for a society which has managed to withdraw into itself and exclude the external world. Nowadays people live in prisons which they themselves have created. They can no longer get out, because they have built these walls around them. Thus it is their own doing. This is where the guilt feeling comes from that each victim suffers from. There are no victims in my films who are completely innocent. But then precisely because of this guilt feeling these victims are not killed. In Funny Games I was playing on an ironic contradiction: each of my victims became guilty of a reprehensible act before the two torturers do their thing. Of course the young people force them to act like this, like the mother who is all of a sudden no longer polite, the father who gives the blow or the son who is the first one to fire. It was an ironic way of ensuring that the viewer avoids taking the side of the victims from the outset without holding any reservations against them. I also drew the viewers' attention to the fact - concerning criminal violence - that things are not that simple in the world. It is quite clear that there is no relation between the guilt of these characters and their ultimate death. It is not about a punishment, it would be totally idiotic to think that.

In fact, you are talking about the absurd applied to the world of violence and non-communication?

Yes, it is very Kafkan; in Kafka guilt is the main issue in the whole of his work. This is also the case for all of my films, among which the Castle, of course! It is inherent to our Jewish Christian tradition and more so particularly in central Europe; actually in the whole of the West.

Your liberal opinions as well as your opposition to Jörg Haider are common knowledge, but certain people have classed Funny Games as a fascist film. What would you say to them?

One could not make a film against fascism if one were fascist. The same goes for violence. One cannot make a film against violence using a stylebelonging to violent films. Thus for Funny Games, I appealed to quite a wide range of methods which enable viewers to be aware of what is happening, to fully understand the facts and gestures of the characters; the film can never be fascist or about nazism, because nazism consists of essentially violating someone in order to take something away from them. If my film was fascist, it would violate the reflection of others. Those who classify my film as being about nazism are people who do not want to understand this guilt phenomena which we were talking about just now: the same kind of guilt which is also used throughout the projection, on the viewer himself. But maybe these people just don't want to understand it!