Blog #4 - Audience participation encouraged

The use of Brechtian devices is a key element in alienating and distancing the viewer from the enticing yet artificial world created through film. As Jeffrey Sconce discusses in his essay, there are two types of identification the viewer may experience: primary cinematic identification and secondary cinematic identification. One may argue that the use of Brechtian devices work to estrange the viewer from the fictional world in which they have been thrust upon (drawing them back from secondary to primary), however, in the case of Michael Haneke’s Funny Games, the use of Brechtian devices does the exact opposite.
First, we need to discuss what exactly is meant by primary and secondary cinematic identification. Sconce recalls the words of Christian Metz, who explained that secondary identification was identification with the characters. Primary identification is, as Metz describes it, “the constant, unfolding relationship the spectator maintains with the cinematic image as a film’s story progresses (Sconce 108).” In Funny Games, for instance, there are several scenes in which the viewers may sympathize with the family, but they may not empathize or identify with the family because they themselves are not being mercilessly tortured.
The breaking of the fourth wall is one Brechtian device that is used liberally in Funny Games. The breaks are abrupt and disturb the fluidity of the film. It may be seen as a sort of wake-up call to the viewer, as if the director is reminding the audience that everything they are watching is a fabrication. Very subtle at first, Paul turns his head towards the camera and merely winks at the audience. This indicates that he has invited the audience to join him in his little game and that we now share a secret with him. Although we are not told or shown outright what the secret is, the audience can infer based on his tiny yet mischievous gesture.

As the film progresses, Paul’s interaction with the audience become more direct and more candid. He openly asks the viewer to place their bets on whether or not the family survives by morning. He knows full-well that we are more inclined to bet on the family (“You are on their side, aren’t you?”) but he still insists that we place bets. The scene is riddled with jump cuts, constantly cutting from one individual’s face to another’s. The family is looking not directly into the camera lens but an inch or so from it. This indicates that they are looking at Paul and Peter. However, for just a moment, the son looks directly into the camera, and thus the audience, as if to gain our sympathy and salvation. In that moment, we are now, against our will, forced to side with Paul and Peter despite our humanity and wishing for the safety of the family. We are now put in a position where we are directly involved in the film and the actions of Paul and Peter.

Through this, the viewer experiences secondary identification. Not because we identify with the murderous duo, but because we identify with the family. We can now empathize with them by how helpless and powerless we both are to Paul and Peter. Despite our wishes (the family’s wish to have their lives spared and the audience’s wish to not be an accomplice to this heinous act), we are not given a choice but to adhere to Paul and Peter’s torment. Again, towards the end of the film, Paul directly addresses the viewer (now a reluctant accomplice) if they have tormented the family enough. He goes on to insist that we “want a real ending with plausible plot development,” continuing with his murderous game against our will. Through the use of Brechtian devices (more specifically, the breaking of the fourth wall), the audience is forced to participate in the antagonists' actions against their will, thus evoking secondary identification within the viewer because they are now directly involved in the film.

Works Cited

• Sconce, Jeffrey. "Spectacles of Death." Film Theories Goes To the Movies. Jim Collins, Hilary Radner, and Ava Preacher Collins. London: Routledge, 1993. 102-119.