Why do so many white, middle-class European film fans love the writer/director Michael Haneke and his tales of affluent lives infected with guilt and battered by violence? He seems to excite their moral masochism and arouse their hidden anxieties — tickling their sense of post-imperial guilt with films such as Hidden, or their fears of youth with Benny’s Video and Funny Games. While middle England has the Daily Mail, art-house audiences have Haneke to scare them with tales of a world gone to the dogs