In looking for filmmakers whose work I have not much experienced or covered before on here, I settled for Michael Haneke, the two-time Palme d’Or-winning director of intense socially-conscious dramas and something of a known curmudgeon on the European film scene -an Austrian Ken Loach if you will. And one of his more famous movies currently on the Criterion Channel, is his 2001 psychological drama of repressed sexuality, The Piano Teacher -featuring Isabelle Huppert in one of her most challenging performances (for both her and the audience). Few times will you see an actress of her calibre take on a part so taboo. But she does so to aplomb.
She plays Erika Kohut, a high-class piano teacher in Vienna, middle-aged and living with her mother; stiff and strict, though despondent and personally lonely -and so repressed that her sexual gratification comes only in the sensation of sadomasochism and voyeurism, which she often attempts to engage in discreetly. Eventually she becomes enamoured with a younger student Walter (Benoît Magimel), with whom she seeks to satisfy these urges.
Haneke and Huppert illustrate her complex psychological-sexual state without much euphemism or ambiguity. In fact the film being shot in such an inauspicious naturalistic way draws more attention to the illicit details of Erika’s behaviour, whether in private moments of self-harm in the bathroom or watching explicit pornography alone, or in more dangerous situations such as masturbating outside the car a young couple are having sex in. Of course the danger there is part of the appeal for Erika, who has a whole host of fetishes the script seems to connect to her complete lack of a sexual life -implicitly exposure to certain kinds of pornography has warped her sexual perception, how she thinks sexual beings behave, and it’s played with a certain matter-of-fact air. Haneke doesn’t develop her history much, but we see in her relationship with her mother (Annie Girardot) a subtly oppressive, controlling dynamic -wherein though they seem to get along, her mother still holds considerable power in her life. And in the facts that Erika still sleeps in the same bed with her and that her mother does the cooking and cleaning and general adult responsibilities in their home, it indicates a kind of stunted adolescence in Erika -which speaks rather tellingly to her actions.
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During those scenes of depravity where the camera focuses on Huppert’s face, it’s curious to note the difficulty in her expression. We see the pleasure she derives, but it’s under the surface of a calm and focused demeanour. And yet though difficult to read, Huppert makes clear Erika’s desperation for validation, desire, and in particular related to her scandalous proclivities, understanding. Through her improprieties and machinations, it is a pitiable performance, though an extremely confident one that Huppert takes to with the same poised determination she brings to each of her other formidable characters. It’s galling to watch, once she’s comfortable, the bluntness with which she initiates oral sex with Walter, the frankness with which she compiles her list of suitable sexual acts. Walter is discomforted by it all, and so is the audience. Especially as it becomes clear Erika doesn’t really want these things –she doesn’t know what she wants sexually and this confusion manifests in some lewd, dramatic, ultimately abhorrent ways.
The movie opens on and features several shots of an overhead perspective playing piano, whilst Erika critiques in the background. The piano acts as a motif, the general culture it invites representing a kind of sophistication that Erika seemingly belongs to yet sinks further from as the film reveals more of her lustful tendencies. It is Haneke emphasizing the relationship between class and repression, the clandestine under the surface of elegance. He passes no judgement of hypocrisy, merely acknowledging how such proclivities are fed by an absence of healthy adjustment. And Erika is perfectly starved for that. She has one student with anxiety issues and a helicopter parent who is a particular thorn in her side as a pupil –eventually she sabotages her for a chance to play a recital with Walter alone. There is a curious psychological connection between the two, both seemingly under the foot of their mother and less in control over their wants than they would like to believe.
To a lesser degree, Haneke interrogates Walter, and goes to harsh places with his own psycho-sexual impulses in relation to Erika -impulses that she drew to the fore. A visceral collapse of her agency and psyche come out of this as her fantasies are used against her. The movie builds to the breakdown of her faculties with measured precision, as her cravings become more uncouth (like an attempt at incest that comes out of left field). It’s all devastating and Haneke never lets you out of the periphery of Erika’s perspective, through to the uncompromising end. And you can’t be so sure he doesn’t implicate the audience. It is after all, a beguiling movie through everything.
Criterion Recommendation: I’m Thinking of Ending Things (2020)
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In a time when the streamers are purging some of their libraries to get out of paying their artists fairly, it’s more important than ever to ensure physical releases of those shows and movies. Criterion swooped in and ensured physical releases of Netflix greats Roma, Okja, Marriage Story, Uncut Gems, The Irishman, and The Power of the Dog, and they need to do so again for Charlie Kaufman’s entrancingly enigmatic I’m Thinking of Ending Things. A dense and hypnotic though thrillingly evocative tour through anxiety in the context of a woman visiting her boyfriend’s family on an isolated farm in the dead of winter, the movie is packed with astonishing imagery, captivating symbolism, and a pervasive sense of dread. Carried by perspective and feeling much more than plot, it is a wonderful playground for actors Jessie Buckley and Jesse Plemons (with strong turns from David Thewlis and Toni Collette as well). Buckley especially is brilliant in the performance that should have netted her her first Oscar nomination. A movie that some may find frustratingly opaque and others might bemoan its departures from the novel by Iain Reid, it is nonetheless a work of unique expression and signature artistry -worth more than its place hidden away on a floundering streaming service.
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