La Haine
Like a grittier transatlantic sequel to Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing, Mathieu Kassovitz’s stunning La Haine is a study in simmering urban marginalization. Kassovitz’s subsequent directorial struggles (including Vin Diesel–starring dud Babylon A.D.) suggest his 1995 sophomore feature may have been a one-shot deal, but as its many admirers and a Cannes jury prize can attest, La Haine is a thunderous shot indeed.
In a premise that reads like the setup for a dubious joke, the film follows three young banlieue-dwellers—an Arab, an African, and a Jew—as they prowl the courtyards and corridors of their apartment complex in the wake of violent clashes between youth and police. With tensions already running high, news that one of their friends has been brutally beaten raises the spectre of violent reprisal, particularly once it emerges that the hot-headed Vinz (a typically intense Vincent Cassel) has discovered a pistol, inadvertently discarded during the riots.
For Kassovitz, a “dubious joke” is, in fact, a fitting description of the life prospects of these low-income youth from the outskirts of Paris, and La Haine is as much about their dearth of opportunity as it is about the roiling resentment that dearth has fostered.
Along with Pierre Aïm’s bravura black-and-white cinematography, and excellent performances from the film’s central trio, Kassovitz’s urgent, and still-timely social insights make La Haine the must-see pick of TIFF’s youth-focused Next Wave Festival, which runs at the Lightbox this weekend.