A Note On Hate and La Haine (1995)

Hate is defined as “intense or passionate dislike” according to the Oxford dictionary. Hate is also a word that functions as both a verb and a noun. These words are known as “gerunds”, which is just a funny term in itself. But, then again, what’s funny about hate? The correct answer varies from person to person, but in my opinion, hate is a tool. Unlike anger, something that works for a large situation, hate is different. Hate is direct. Where anger works as a lamp, warm light washing a room, hate is a spotlight, isolated, solid, unyielding. There’s a venom in “I hate you.”, a sting, unlike a dull ache with “I’m angry.” There’s lots of ways to convey that. “I’m upset.” “You made me mad when…” “I just wish this would…”.

“I hate you.”

That stops you. Makes you think. There’s a fire to it, one that can’t perhaps be easily sourced, but understood.

La Haine, directed by Mathieu Kassovitz in 1995, has a title that directly translates to “hate”. Shot in black and white and using the actor’s real names as their character names, La Haine is a sucker punch of a movie. We follow three boys, Saïad, Hubert, and Vinz, through their day, a day in which they will all become men. They give a rare perspective of the alternative mindset in France. Movies like SLC Punk! (1998, dir. by James Merendino) and Summer Of Sam (1999, dir. by Spike Lee) have similar vibes, but they play more with humor and “escaping the system” versus the actual harm and fear that La Haine has to offer. 

Even at the start there’s a pair of shots that set the stage. One faces Saïad, symmetrical and unmoving, and one shows the line of police officers he’s staring at, just as still. There’s something in the way Saïad stands that catches my attention. He’s still, hands at his side, and just looks at the uniformed officers. The scene is reminiscent of a photo from National Geographic, with a young boy staring at the camera. That is really all Saïad is, a little boy. This is his home, and it’s more unsafe with the men who are supposed to protect it at their posts. 

The cinematographic hate we see in La Haine is what real hate feels like. The injustice and the trapped sense we get with our characters is so visceral and human that at times it’s difficult to look away. The repeated mantra of a doomed man falling from a skyscraper adds a layer of desperation as well, with Hubert stating, just before the screen goes black “It isn’t how far you fall, it’s where you land.” The names of the actors being the names of their characters pushes further that level of realism. That part is my second favorite part of the entire film, second only to the opening lines, not stating that this is “based on a true story”, but that “This film is dedicated to the friends and family who died during the making of it.”. Hate is powerful. Hate is so much more than an emotion. It’s a tool.