Popular Culture Review Vol. 22, No. 2, Summer 2011 | Page 27

The Doubling of Death 23 knowledge of why he does any of these things. The same holds true for the family members in The Seventh Continent—we see, in exquisitely minute detail, how they manipulate and manage the objects around them. We know what they eat, where they work, what they wear, how they draw, how they speak to one another—but we still do not know why they die, even as we watch how they do it, even as we hear the husband’s voice explain, calmly and rationally, the “reasons” behind their deaths. All we know is that one moment there is a whole family there. Then they poison their daughter. And she is dead. Soon, the parents kill themselves as well. And they are dead. And for us, life goes on. The audience can see and respond, can feel and think, but cannot die with the characters on-screen. And that blank space between the actor and the observer is where the experience of death happens. It is a space we cannot access, and it is the place wherein our responses to Haneke’s deaths are manufactured—our fear, or disgust, or confusion, or apathy, or rage, or anger, or sadness, all of our responses to death off-screen as well. The suicide in Cache is one of Haneke’s most elliptical deaths. We simply don’t have enough information about the character even to begin to grasp why he does what he does. Is his life, as his son asserts, miserable because of what Daniel Auteuil’s character did to him so many years ago? Since it is the case that we cannot understand, we are thus asked to stand with the indirect murderer who cannot take responsibility for his actions, who can only see from inside a position of privilege. Watching this man cut his throat—watching him live one moment and in the next, suddenly and without warning, not live—is most like watching the pig or the chicken or the fish; there is a heavy sense of distance, an unknowableness that accompanies all death, but these in particular. We do not know what pigs, chicken, and fish think when they die. Because we do not have enough knowledge, our feelings remain abstract to varying degrees. It is terrible to watch a girl suffer as she is shot repeatedly, as it is te rrible to watch a family’s despair as they take their lives one by one, but is it terrible because we know death itself is terrible or because we can’t imagine if it truly is or isn’t? Haneke’s films revolve visually around objects—we get varied close-ups of ordinary items (cereal bowls, yogurt cups, coffee pots, and so on) where the object is the focus, and the manipulator (the hand pouring the coffee, the arm delivering the cereal to the off-screen mouth) is on the periphery, visual only in part while the inanimate object enjoys center stage. The camera, as always, does not move, does not get distracted by voices off-screen, does not turn to give us visual cues from the actors: we stay, as we do in any Haneke shot, squarely focused in front of us. Haneke’s camera is not an animate camera, it is not a camera that moves to help us or distract us. If a woman is ironing on-screen then we will watch her iron, and that action is made just as important as the more subtle, emotional action taking place within the person performing the action. This kind of emphasis on the object seems to point to the idea that what we know comes first from what we do—we become interested, as Haneke himself says, in people and in actions through the objects that invite or submit to