Some will see La Haine as a precursor to films like City of God, wherein it provides a thrilling, near-biographical, recount of a true story. While it’s universally accepted that both films achieve this goal, La Haine set the precedent for the crime dramas of today over 25 years ago.
La Haine is predominantly set in the banlieues of Paris, suburbs made up of low-income housing. It follows a day in the lives of Vinz, Hübert and Saïd - three friends who live in the banlieue and partake in the urban riots against the police following the hospitalisation of their friend, Abdul. La Haine is strongly based on real protests that occurred in Paris during the late 80s and early 90s; the film’s writer and director Mathieu Kassovitz conceptualised La Haine following the deaths of two young protestors at the hands of the police. The film’s opening credits begin with archive footage from those protests and end with a dedication to those who died during its production, establishing a brutally realistic view on the topic from the onset.
While the best parts of the film are rooted in Kassovitz’s controlled direction of a film grounded in chaos, some of my favourite moments come from its cinematography. Its use of black-and-white alone is not only resemblant of its blunt setting, but also of its character writing and broader themes. Its photography is beautiful through and through, similarly fuelling core concepts and strengthening our bond with the characters through a sublime attention to detail. The camerawork itself is phenomenally arresting, using a series of long shots that amplify the tension that encapsulates La Haine, ultimately reflecting its setting and the criminal life chosen by the film’s leads.
The film’s dialogue is convincing from the start and is a perfect understanding of the realism it portrays. It underscores stellar performances from the leading trio who captivate the viewer in this realism, providing a deeply unique, multi-faceted, take on the taxing impacts of criminal life on the French youth. I admired the introspective writing of Vinz and Hübert, whose explosive criminal personalities are paired with sequences which see them become anguished and tormented by what they have witnessed on the streets. The film sports excellent performances from minor characters too. While they receive minimal screentime, they stay with you on the basis of quality and narrative impact - with some even referenced later on in the script.
The setting of the banileue in the midst of violent protests against the police is one of the most visceral backdrops I’ve ever seen portrayed in a film. La Hainespectacularly manages to capture the essence of Paris’ disgruntled youth in a turbulent time for the city. It’s one that feels so well-researched, so thoroughly prepared, and so accurately executed that the film feels akin to a documentary at times. Its filming during the riots in conjunction with its use of archival footage in the opening credits creates a uniquely captivating atmosphere that never fades away.
La Haine’s legacy as a cult classic is one that has been shown rather than told over the years. Its blunt script, profound performances, and visceral direction planted the seed from which contemporary classics like Top Boy and Uncut Gems have blossomed. Its short runtime, just shy of 100 minutes, never hinders the experience, but adds to it - wonderfully translating the chaotically tense nature of the protests it portrays, as well as their strong impact on its participants. Subtly beautiful, instantly classical.