Michael Haneke’s Caché is a mystery wrapped in a tangle of sight lines—you are rarely confident about what you’re watching, and never sure that watching will be enough. A bobo Parisian couple (Daniel Auteuil and Juliette Binoche) are inexplicably haunted by videotapes taken of them by cameras that cannot have been present; eventually, the ensuing paranoia begins not only to unravel their family but to reveal sins of the past. Haneke implicates us in the surveillance—we’re never sure if what we’re watching is “live” or Memorex, and if the point of view is ours or someone else’s. Haneke is not our only hardcore existentialist, but he might be the most pure-minded. Caché has a Mandelbrot set’s molecular uniformity, and a devilish structure that makes every cut an occasion for what-is-it-now heebie-jeebies. Metaphorically, it’s a gold-plated Rorschach plot—what’s inadvertently revealed is political, personal, familial, cosmic, and all of the above. DVD additionals include a doc on Haneke’s career.