There’s admittedly little else to be said about Hidden that hasn’t been motioned here already, but if one thing does need reiterating, it’s that this is a Michael Haneke film. Collective shrieks of horror aside, we’re talking cinema on a cerebral, coercive, conceptually superior playing field – the three C’s, if you will, that lead me to believe Haneke is just one of those guys who has it all worked out. Mostly, he scares me like no other director (not even Michael Bay); his discourse interrogative, aggressive, and not for the passive. Watch a Haneke film, and you’re a participant, whether you like it or not.

In Hidden, he’s found another crack in an already fucked up civilisation to sink his Austrian teeth into. Needless to say, he’s addressing terrorism and paranoia and all that socio-political garbage in between, but on a domesticated, bourgeoisie scale of sorts. It’s Funny Games in disguise, where the home invaders are never seen, only felt. And yet whereas that film was a critique and dissection of the thriller genre, Hidden works as the genuine article. On a purely observational level, it uses lockdown as a means of coiling tension and smudging perspective, to the point where we don’t know who’s looking at whom, looking at what, looking where, and looking when. It’s a loaded gun that’s got to pop eventually, and when it does, well, just listen to the audience…

The film clearly irked some in attendance, but for the record, this is one of Haneke’s more cinematic efforts (as a display of carefully designed anxiety, at least). Previously, the director churned out the post-apocalyptic allegory Time of the Wolf, which unfortunately never made it this far south, but would have thrilled the Embassy patrons (and made great use of its screen) via more aesthetic means; its first third, especially, can boast some of the most startling night imagery ever put to film. Bravely speaking though, no other film had a right to the opening spot this year – in need of something strong, pertinent and capable of ruffling a few feathers, the programmers obviously didn’t have to look far. Those in preference of crowd-pleasing festival openers may think otherwise, but that’s complacency for you, I guess.—TW