It was a cold November day in 2009 when I sat down in a packed screening room to watch one of the gala presentations of that year's Cork Film Festival. A fledgling cinephile at the time, I'd not heard of Michael Haneke, and opted for a ticket to this film solely for its prominent placement in the programme. I'm not sure the same person stood up two and a half hours later as had sat down. Here was that elusive, exhilarating transcendence I yearned to feel from any and every movie; the sense of sheer, indescribable enlightenment only the greatest art can bequeath and which I had by then decided I would spend a vast portion of my life pursuing.…

It took me 24 hours to fully appreciate this film. Some things are so obviously gorgeous that you love them during the viewing: the cinematography, the pacing. But it can be difficult to distinguish the various plot points and characters, leading to confusion. While it turns out to have very little import, as it so often does, it is nonetheless a gamble I'm always surprised film makers are willing to take.

I've got a thing about films that explore the nature of evil. I have very little patience for the obvious when it comes to that topic. Films about murderers, rapists, tyrants and their like never impress me too much when the film-maker's goal is to show what evil looks…

Children of the Corn 9, aka The White Ribbon, is yet another mysterious intelligent masterpiece from Haneke. It is a reserved, quiet analysis of the manifestation of evil. Where does it come from? It is two and a half hours long and yet enigmatic long past its runtime, as is oft the case with Haneke - an ending that raises more questions than it does answers.

Sinister kids give me the creeps. It isn't that they are scary in this. It isn't a horror film, not your conventional horror anyway. As the children grow, learn never to sin from their sinful parents, learn about death, their own mortality, witness the destructive human nature for the first time, the viewer is…

“I told God to strike me down and he didn’t, therefore I must be blameless.”

[Martin, character of the film, possibly feeling guilty for he beat a so-called friend of his.]

The White Ribbon is arguably a masterpiece.

I must say that I had some good expectations for this film, but this movie exceeded all of them.

In short, aping Haneke himself, it's a movie about the roots of terrorism in many ways. Initially, the story draws many different cores to portray the village that is the set for all the events. During the movie, this cores will become one, but with multiple characteristics; therefore, Haneke depicts the transformation of idea into idealism by several points of view and also…

Michael Haneke is my kind of filmmaker. After watching Amour and now The White Ribbon, I’ve got a strong sense of not only the level of thought he puts into his work, but also the clarity with which he communicates those musings. His technique is arresting, but it’s the substance beneath the style that’s most rewarding.

Such is the case with The White Ribbon, a film that spawned a vigorous post-credit debate and called for immediate replay.

No doubt, much of the discussion stems from the mysterious whodunit plot that appears to be at the base of the film. It’s a worthy debate, given it’s the gravity of the narrative, but I have a feeling the specific source of the…

Haneke's Palme d'Or winner that takes place on the eve of World War I is haunting and mysterious in the same ways that made Caché so intriguing. No answers are given, barely anything is explained, this air of mystery is left up in the air to be interpreted and pondered over. I really enjoy that about these two movies. It doesn't give anything to you on a silver platter, instead it forces you to pay attention and just think. More than likely all this thinking isn't going to give you any answers, but that is more or less the point. In its ambiguity, it gives the watcher a reason to watch, and a reason to think about it, and a…