71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance

A fine movie that explores the lives of many strangers in Austria that are connected by the same thing: all their lives are pointless and meaningless. Though the pace is slow all the scenes work to the conclusion that is the only solution to break the deadlock. A thought-provoking film.

Mr. Michael Haneke begs the audience to start asking the important questions.

The film begins with a text of a news item involving a bank shooting incident in Vienna a day before Christmas eve 1993 that left three people dead with the 19-year-old assailant later found to have shot himself nearby.

What then follows is a series news broadcasts interspersed with scenes involving seemingly random characters while they go through their day-to-day existence: a Romanian refugee who illegally entered Austria seeking asylum, a soldier, an armored van security guard, a college student, a couple having trying to adopt a kid, and elderly man and his bank employee daughter.

The film is, as the title indicates (and I'll take the filmmaker's word on that), there are a total of "71 fragments" divided into segments that are separated by almost three seconds of black frames. I actually took trouble counting those (because I don't have a life) and found out that--

The different characters are shown going through mundane activities throughout the film and it gives the viewers an insight to human behaviour and the dynamic between the characters whose connection to the other charcters are more evident than some. They are also seen to be watching these same news broadcasts in their respective environments apart from the segments that solely featured these news items being played on-screen, which in a way connects almost every person in this film.

Mr. Haneke has a style all to his own. He's a master in evoking fright without necessarily having to show much, this will be apparent near the end of the film, the Haneke genius I'd say, just as gruesome. This is not one of his best work but it stands out on its own for the always-relevant commentary that he wishes to expound.

The narrative that Mr. Haneke wanted to express could only be realized through a closer scrutiny of the various fragments which eventually points to a far greater tragedy, and he also throws in a fair warning as well. The same thing could also can be said regarding the conflicts around the world. We see the news on TV, the horrific images, the drama, yet something is lacking. What were the events that led up to the tragic outcome that we all get to witness on the screen? Clearly, there are some people who know more than others and the news reporters seem not to be able to get to those people for some reason or another, it is this incompleteness that kind of detaches us, the viewers, from the horror, and there are people taking advantage of other people's silence and rendering them just as complicit to those acts of violence.

My rating: A-minus.

Before Austrian film director Michael Haneke got well-recognized and –appreciated in the international film circuit with such films as "Code Unknown", "Time of the Wolf" and "The Piano Teacher" (all of which were made in France and shown in Cannes), he already made his mark with a number of films made in his native Austria, one of which is this film called "71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance"(1994). This work is the third installment in the director's "glaciation trilogy" (the other two being "The Seventh Continent" and "Benny's Video"), thus called because of the central theme of the fine line between barbarism and civility in modern urban life being completely, hopelessly blurred. The "barrier" has been broken, so to speak.

As the title suggests, the film consists of 71 "fragments" or vignettes, seemingly random, unrelated and mundane, of various characters going through the motions and vagaries of daily existence in urban Austria. But one can sense that this only seems to be so, as the film's prologue suggests that this is the event that will loom over the succeeding "fragments". And that is, the 1993 Christmas Eve reckless shooting done by a 19-year-old student named only as Maximillian B. inside a bank and on the streets, before eventually shooting himself—one that is purportedly based on a real-life incident.

No explanations or back-stories are provided to the characters and their situations being shown "episodically" on the screen (a Romanian boy refugee, a bank delivery man, an old pensioner, a childless couple and, of course, the student himself). More often than not, a specific fragment is abruptly interrupted or ended by a black fade-out (an alienating technique Haneke once again utilized in the equally visceral and demanding "Code Unknown"). Some fragments happen for not more than a minute, while some last for as long as five or even eight minutes (notably the scene where the student practices ping-pong tennis facing an automated opponent and the scene where the old pensioner argues with his daughter over the phone, both of which vividly displaying a whole gamut of simmering emotions without ever resorting to histrionics). Even reinforcing the clinical, cold approach—for which Haneke is really known—is the utter lack of an accompanying soundtrack and the wordlessness of some scenes.

The sense of dread is punctuated by the ever-present television (as is the case in the two other films in the trilogy), from where a specific world news is being broadcast (like the ethnic war in Somalia and the child abuse charges against pop star Michael Jackson). This is as if to suggest that the looming event foreboded at the film's start is itself to become a subject of a TV news coverage which, albeit small in scale when compared to the news indicated above, is nevertheless not without a lasting cost to the human lives involved, physically, emotionally and psychologically. Having said this, how has the line separating civility and barbarism come to be completely violated in this thought-provoking film?

The trigger shooting perpetrated by the young student, which serves to be the film's denouement, appears to have been done for no apparent reason at all. It's senseless killing in its purest meaning (which arguably is the underlying essence of the middle-class family's suicide in "The Seventh Continent" and the teenage boy's videotaped murder of the girl in "Benny's Video"). And this is what makes the act all the more chilling. It's as if to suggest that such a self-destructive act is inherent in everyone of us, if not what makes up our essence, waiting only to be brought to the surface by a seemingly random and inconsequential spate of events (in "71 Fragments'" case, it's to be rooted in the student's lack of enough cash to pay for his car gas).

And when the "event" does finally happen, rather than to serve as an important food-for-thought, it's sadly reduced to no more than a piece of media sensation, regarded as the hot "news of the day", focusing more on "what" happened than on "why" did it happen. The alarming incident thus becomes another piece of media entertainment, to be savored by mass consumers who always crave for what is sensational and controversial, without ever thinking of its deep-rooted incitations and implications. (This is a thought which Haneke is to delve full-blown in "Funny Games", both the Austrian and American versions, though I really prefer the first one.)

If in Polish auteur Krzysztof Kieslowski's world, chance incidents and fateful encounters are all part of a grand design to convey deep layers of human emotional truths (like in the truly majestic "Three Colors" trilogy), in Haneke's (or at least in the world of "71 Fragments"), such randomness is to be put in order by an inherent barbarism that's only barely creeping out of the human psyche.

As a massive Haneke fan, 71 Fragments and Time of the Wolf were the only films of his I had left to see. I ticked 71 Fragments off last night and was left feeling slightly underwhelmed. It isn't a bad film or anything, it's just very pedestrian for Michael. It lacks the emotional power of The Seventh Continent, the shock of Benny's Video and the technical skill of Code Unknown, yet it resembles all three. If those three films had a hideously depressing threesome, then 71 Fragments would probably be its mediocre child.

Thankfully it's not as horrifyingly boring as The Castle or the second half of Benny's Video, even though the plot description sounds like it could be. It follows about four unrelated characters going about their everyday business. There's a ping ponging student, a stowaway boy, a depressed couple and a lonely Granddad. Haneke gives us very brief snapshots of their lives which is reminiscent of Code Unknown and Happy End, although not as focused or engaging. I didn't find any of it boring, just a little bit repetitive. The ending also isn't as shocking as it would like to think it is.

So in the end, it's a well-made little film which some interesting themes and the odd great scene, however it's not worth going out of your way to find. To my mind, Haneke's greatest films are: Amour, The Piano Teacher and Hidden.

After watching Der Siebente Kontinent and Benny's Video in rather rapid succession, it took me an inexplicably long time to get around to this, the third in Michael Haneke's Glaciation Trilogy, the director's exploration of isolation and alienation in modern society.

Following the unrelated stories of an array of everyday Austrians, 71 Fragmente einer Chronologie des Zufalls explores the weeks immediately before a bank shooting that leaves four, including the gunman, dead.

A written introduction tells us the eventual outcome of the film's events, leading us immediately to conclude that the climactic crescendo to which we will build is not so much the film's subject as a means by which to explain it. What follows is a ninety minute procession of apparently unrelated stories unfolding before us, detailing the lives of everyday people. From a lonely old man to a couple fostering an aloof child, a border hopping street urchin to an austere and religious security guard and his wife, the film covers many lives and relationships. The transitions between these are marked by a black screen, with occasional footage of news stories interjected throughout. These show us the chaos and anarchy of the characters' world, bitesize glimpses into everyday horrors. Perhaps the only discernible thing connecting them is the mire of insanity which occupies their television screens, something best remembered for later. Each miniature story is compelling and interesting, a fine achievement given the limited screen time each gets with such an array of characters to be explored. Some, of course, engender more interest than others, the old man and student characters two which I found myself particularly drawn to. Haneke, unsurprisingly, constructs long and unconventional shots, beautiful in their individuality. An early morning ritual scene recalls Der Siebente Kontinent, the camera's focus on actions rather than faces an important technique in establishing the life of this particular family. A long and winding scene featuring the elderly man on the phone to his daughter is, though entirely banal and mundane, one of the film's strongest moments, its ability to so simply yet comprehensively detail a character quite wonderful. Though one might argue that the film appears to go in no clear direction for most of its running time, this is a clear part of its slowly unfolding eventual plan. It is only in the last ten minutes of the film that we see anything more than a fly-on-the-wall documentary of regular lives and are introduced to the film's true message: one that is impactful, subtle, and the perfect finale for a trilogy that delightfully explores its chosen theme.

Creating portraits of a wide number of characters, each more intimate than many films' main characters, 71 Fragmente einer Chronologie des Zufalls is a very fine final act in a very fine trilogy. Just as subtle, removed, and non-judgmental as its predecessors, this is a comprehensive and thought-provoking social commentary which will doubtlessly benefit from multiple viewings, perhaps even more so than its cinematic siblings.