Indisputably, Cache is a deeply distressing masterpiece, one that leaves you confused, clueless, empty. It’s that kind of a film which asks some serious and problematic questions but doesn’t give any rewarding answers in the process, and that’s what distinguishes it from a number of many other pictures made these days. Without hesitation, Cache promises no relief, no happy endings and no emotional stability whatsoever. And that’s what makes this movie so unbelievably convincing, so demanding, and so terrifically successful.

It start off with a long, seemingly ordinary shot of a peaceful neighborhood somewhere in Paris. It’s not until five minutes later that we discover it’s actually a mysterious video recorded by some unknown characters, now seen on the TV screen belonging to a frightened family. We hear worried people chatting, we observe how a set of fuzzy lines appear on the screen. This family – terrorized by a seres of troubling surveillance tapes – is gradually tearing itself apart.

The film shows how one shocking event leads to a bunch of another, even more harrowing revelations. Cache is also a trip into the main character’s (Georges) disturbing past, revealing how an arguably childish incident brought an onslaught of difficulties into his life, changing it for ever not only for him, but also for his innocent wife and child (this raises another topic – is he really such an innocent child as he appears to be? Look at the last scene).

This is a film where no character is likable, and no emotions are spared. Its increasingly unfeeling aura only boosts the state of unbalance and merciful empathy. The picture is tranquil yet considerable in its atmosphere, graceful yet painfully expressive in its imagery. Cache forces the audiences to look, and what one sees might not be too comforting.


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