La Haine Programme Notes

Heard about the guy who fell off a skyscraper? On his way down past each floor, he kept saying to reassure himself: So far so good... so far so good... so far so good. How you fall doesn't matter. It's how you land!

Matthieu Kassovitz’s La Haine (which translates simply to Hate) is summed up by this opening sequence alone; that for those in a violent and poverty-ridden life, the result can be inevitably dire. And though each ticking, mundane day spent in a Paris banlieue is “so far so good”, the free-fall that society experiences around them unavoidably drags them down too. You must change how you land. Resist the free-fall, control what you can.

Widely regarded as one of the best films of the 20th century, the film is nothing short of a masterpiece, and with the new, 30th anniversary rerelease, it’s a stark reminder of its relevancy in the modern age. La Haine first came to the mind of 26-year-old Kassovitz in 1993, when he heard the name and story of Makomé M’Bowolé on the radio - a 17-year-old immigrant who was shot in the hands of police custody. The script was started the very same day, and thus the seeds were sown. Two years and many more riots later, La Haine was met with a standing ovation at Cannes, while the police in attendance turned their backs on the crew during the ceremonial guard entry.

We follow Vinz (Vincent Cassel), Hubert (Hubert Koundé) and Saïd (Saïd Taghmaoui) through an unsettling 24 hours as they await to hear the condition of a friend who was shot in a police riot a day prior. We feel this mundanity of the three kicking around, waiting, dreading the consequences of a deep systemic problem that is so ever-present around them that no mention of it is even necessary. Each ticking of the clock and timestamp shown is a step closer to the inevitable landing of jumping off a skyscraper. However, the bomb-like tension is mostly an underlying simmering device, with the naturalistic dialogue acting as a diffusion, allowing us to stay present and close with the three, whatever stage in the day they may be at. “So far, so good.”

Often clipped on social media for being a technical wonder, Vinz’s Taxi Driver mirror scene (“You talkin’ to me?”) is one example of how incredibly well-rounded La Haine is, from narrative to technique. This consistent combination of such high-quality camerawork, dialogue and directorial decisions is often the subject of many online video essays and short-form content, fuelling it to be considered a must-watch for any cinephile. However, within the rise of the (rather young) film buff community on social media, to see a low-budget French film, telling a story not often told with such cinematic integrity, mentioned fearlessly amongst the likes of Hollywood classics surely indicates the timelessness of the crew’s craft, and as well as the relevancy the story still holds today.

With the 25th anniversary of La Haine coinciding with the early months of the Black Lives Matter movement in 2020, the solemn credits message dedicated to all those who lost their life during the making of the film shone brighter on our screens than ever. 5 years later, we continue to face daily news of deportations, shootings and police brutality from all around the globe. If La Haine can reach new, young audiences and film fans alike through film-centred social media, or through independent cinemas like the GFT, Kassovitz’s persistent protest and Makomé M’Bowolé, among many others’ names, will continue to live on, and though this may not make direct changes, we are empowered to continue the fight that those have held out before us.

La Haine is a never-ending loop - as mentioned, one very visible in our society today. It begins with a boy getting shot by the police, and ends with the same, but this time it’s Vinz, one of our trio. An ending subject to conversation, it is disliked by some due to its ambiguity, praised by others for the poignancy it leaves audiences with, but either way, the shot rings out, and we are all left with none other than our thoughts and emotions to untangle. The futility of the story coming full circle only strikes another blow, to witness such a promising arc, for it to crash back down again in front of your very eyes. “How you fall doesn’t matter”, as you are always going to land.

The film’s core is embedded within these last two minutes of the film, fittingly concluding the story we were first introduced by, in which the man who jumped off the skyscraper finally lands, and dies. Vinz, who seeks violence as an answer, dies at the barrel of a policeman. Hubert, who is characterised as having hope, the pacifist, is pointing a gun at the policeman and Saïd, who represents resistance, stands in silence while he watches his two best friends experience their inevitably terrible fate. La Haine powerfully opens and ends with the same story, the same image: Saïd, observing something out of his control, whether it be the aftermath of a riot, or the beginning of one.

Hikari
Youth Board Member
May 2025