La Haine ★★★★★
Watching La Haine is like being stuck in a slow-motion car crash—only, you’re not sure whether it’s the crash or the moments before that are more terrifying. Either way, buckle up, because this film is not about landing softly.
Set in the grim, concrete wasteland of the Parisian suburbs, La Haine follows 24 hours in the lives of three friends—Vinz, Saïd, and Hubert. Each hails from a different ethnic background, but what unites them is the fact that French society treats them like human Molotov cocktails. The film opens with the aftermath of a riot, sparked by police brutality, and follows the trio as they wander the city in a kind of tension-fueled aimlessness. Vinz, the most volatile of the group, has found a gun and swears he’ll kill a cop if their friend Abdel, a victim of police violence, dies. Spoiler alert: nothing good comes from having a death wish in your back pocket.
La Haine is a blistering meditation on the cyclical nature of violence. You’d think a film titled “Hate” would lay it on thick, but Kassovitz masterfully avoids melodrama. Instead, we get a slow burn of frustration—both with the characters and the broken system they inhabit. It’s a film about society’s free fall, where every new day only brings a deeper sense of alienation and injustice. You could say it’s a time capsule of the ‘90s, but honestly, 2024 doesn’t look much better. If anything, the film’s exploration of police brutality and racial tensions feels more disturbingly current than ever.
Shot in black and white, La Haine strips away any romanticized version of Paris. The film’s monochrome palette adds a layer of starkness, emphasizing the “no exit” vibe of the banlieue—a bleak suburb that feels more like a prison than a neighborhood. Director Mathieu Kassovitz employs inventive camera work, like dizzying 360-degree pans and jolting close-ups, to keep you teetering on the edge, much like the characters themselves. Every frame feels claustrophobic, pushing you into the uncomfortable realities of their lives.
Vincent Cassel as Vinz is a revelation—his twitchy intensity is equal parts Robert De Niro wannabe and actual powder keg. The character’s bravado feels performative until, well, it isn’t, and you’re left wondering if this angry kid is capable of following through on his violent promises. Hubert Koundé, playing the level-headed boxer of the group, offers the most depth. Hubert’s moral struggle between staying calm and losing control is what makes the final moments so gut-wrenching. Saïd Taghmaoui rounds out the trio as the fast-talking joker whose wisecracks barely conceal his frustration at being constantly belittled. Together, they form a kind of tragic boy-band—only instead of pop hits, they’re headlining with disillusionment.
At a tight 97 minutes, the film is taut with suspense. The pacing mirrors the protagonists’ day: meandering, occasionally aimless, but always simmering with underlying dread. You’re aware that something is going to snap—it’s just a question of when. The third act builds so slowly to its explosive finale that when the violence finally erupts, you’re left almost as shell-shocked as the characters. It’s the kind of slow-burn tension that’ll keep you glued to the screen even though you know the train is going off the rails.
There’s something chillingly familiar about La Haine. Maybe it’s because the themes of disenfranchisement and police violence are still front and center in today’s world. Watching it, I couldn’t help but think of how eerily prescient it feels, like a prophecy we all collectively ignored. The film’s tagline, “It’s not about how you fall, it’s about how you land,” echoes long after the credits roll. It’s a brutal reminder that, if nothing changes, the landing’s going to be rough for all of us.
Is La Haine for everyone? Absolutely not. But that’s the point. It’s raw, uncomfortable, and, at times, downright bleak. Yet, it’s precisely these qualities that make it a masterpiece. If you’re looking for escapism, stay far away. But if you want to be challenged, if you want a film that holds a mirror up to society’s ugliest truths, then strap in for one of the most powerful films you’ll ever see.
