Written by Andreas Babiolakis

This review is a part of the Palme d’Or Project: a review of every single Palme d’Or winner at Cannes Film Festival. The White Ribbon won the fifty fourth Palme d’Or at the 2009 festival.

The film was selected by the following jury.
Jury President: Isabelle Huppert.
Jury: Asia Argento, Nuri Bilge Ceylan, Lee Chang-dong, James Gray, Hanif Kureishi, Shu Qi, Robin Wright, Sharmila Tagore.

If there ever was a director that could make you feel absolutely awful about anything and everything, that would be the highly melodramatic, titanically heavy Michael Haneke, who has made some of the most uncompromising, relentless films you may ever see. In the arthouse scene, Haneke is a genius who is able to wring out the utmost amount of emotion and damage from his subjects. You can say that the Haneke alum Isabelle Huppert convinced the jury to award The White Ribbon (she has starred in a number of his films, particularly The Piano Teacher), but I think this 2009 feature is stunning enough that it would yield attention and awards based on its own merits; it’s just a pure coincidence that one of the auteur’s biggest stars was the jury head at Cannes this year. You can’t find any malpractice with this decision, because The White Ribbon is such a punishing, unforgettable experience, shot with exquisite photography that details horrifying images.

We are instantly transported to the fictional village of Eichwald, Germany, where religion dictates the ways of the land, and any naysaying will result in immediate punishment. Most of the characters don’t even possess names: only designations (like teacher, doctor, and baron). It doesn’t matter who these authoritative figures are as people in a film like The White Ribbon, since they are symbols first and foremost. Their power over everyone else around them (subordinates, they may say) is what is important here. How does the separation of church and state benefit a society? What does it look like when these lines are blurred? A world where legislations made for ethical reasons become reasons to hurt others and commit sins disguised as patriotic acts. It is not easy to watch The White Ribbon and the damages that occur within the film. Haneke is not one to pull punches, and while The White Ribbon isn’t his most challenging film, it’s harsh enough. There’s no sugar coating when it comes to the brainwashing and abuse of an entire generation.

The film is placed right before World War I takes place, and there’s something sinister about Haneke’s decision to craft his story here. It’s as if he is saying the world was bad enough even before it turned in on itself with bloodshed. Either that, or he is stating that something like World War I is the result of a system that is disheveled and waiting to collapse. Many wars later (and one of them being an additional World War), and you have to wonder where this all comes from. Haneke wonders this too: are we destined to be evil no matter how much we try to prevent it? Aren’t retaliations to bad as unethical as badness itself? The White Ribbon asks many tough questions, and it continues to press you more and more as the film goes on. Haneke is no stranger to pushing the buttons of his audience, particularly when it comes to wondering where their moral compasses lay, but The White Ribbon is far more natural and discrete than something like Funny Games: you feel like you are a part of the conversation (whether you wish to take part or not).

Everything is captured in the stunning cinematography by Christian Berger. Typically when films are referred to being black and white, they are more of a grayscale affair. Not in this case. Berger actually uses shots that are mostly bright alabaster or cloaked in obsidian, making each and every little detail pop as much as possible. In a way, these visuals comment on the darkness of society, the search for truth, and the lack of a grey area in between (outside of the spaces in between, as to connect everything together). For such a disturbing film, The White Ribbon looks absolutely beautiful. It is the last shred of faith I have that there is goodness in the world whilst watching Haneke’s pessimistic vision: Earth is a wonderful place with breathtaking potential and gifts, and we’ve absolutely destroyed it with our own selfishness and ineptitude.

Haneke will go too far in The White Ribbon, but he needs to in a film that’s this bothered by the cycling of generations that have had to endure malice in the form of doctrines and teaching methods. No one person should have a freer life than another. No one is better than another. In a society where the law is meant to make everything fair, there’s nothing equitable about power levels, corruption, and double edged swords wielded by two-faces. Haneke has made vicious films before, but The White Ribbon may be his angriest. Here, he isn’t piecing together a disturbed world from scratch, or commenting on the difficulties of being human. This is a finger pointed right at ways of life with the utmost scorn. Haneke is actually placing blame. It’s interesting that his most scathing project is also his prettiest, as if the aesthetics are meant to balance out his frustration. The White Ribbon is the turning point of arthouse from the tail end of the 2000s to open up a new decade, and Cannes knew that this was going to be the voice of the future. Countless pulverizing films later, they were right. It was never too late for Michael Haneke to set a precedent again with his films and inspire a whole new class of filmmakers after he had been an influence already.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.