Amor

Amour was the final chapter in my quest to see every film nominated for best picture this year. I had the pleasure of watching this piece of art in and nice Art House theatre in NYC as an assignment for school. With the ambiance set I was ready to view the gem of European cinema. Having only seen one other film by Director Michael Haneke was not prepared however for the film itself. Amour is a fantastic work deserving of its nomination of best picture and best foreign film. It is the story of and elderly couple at the tail end of their golden years and the challenges that old age can present. Is there anything you won't do for love? I give kudos to the director for this film two main characters are in the golden years, it is completely dialogue driven, it takes place in one location and there is no soundtrack or real score. It survives totally on the dialogue and interactions of it leads. It is an extreme challenge to keep it interesting and Michael Heneke does with its stark and sometime depressing subject matter. It is a beautifully written and shot film. However it is real in its depiction in the challenges of getting old and how we deal.

I would say this film is an excellent film with a pace,direction and storytelling style more accustomed to European audiences. A great film that I would probably never watch again. 8/10

In 'Amour', we delve into the deepest, and most profound type of love seldom explored on screen, examined to it's uncompromising end. It is one of the most moving displays of love, in recent memory. That the couple at the heart of this film are 80-plus year old, bourgeois, retired French-speaking music teachers is surprising. That their story speaks to so many audiences worldwide regardless of their age and culture should not be, it simply reflects the universal emotions at the core of this film told with great honesty and sensitivity.

Ironically, as the title suggests, this is (not) another love story. In his most classical and refined film yet, Austrian master Haneke has once again asks questions of the audience in his own subversive, clinical, uncomfortable methods, yet (in what many see as a departure) with profoundly moving results. Some of the signature Haneke 'shocks' still remain, but this time they also carry devastating emotional weight.

Paradoxically the emotional force of the film comes from Haneke's characteristic clinical style of filmmaking: static shots, framed in mid to long distance, no score, economical and direct screenplay, however assisted by an always crisp sound design, sharp lighting and cinematography courtesy of Darius Khondji (Midnight in Paris), and naturalistic and honest performances. This time however, the approach feels gentler and respectful without the standard disdain and nihilism one expects from Haneke.

Yet there remains a palpable sense of the unknown and danger as film progresses (ironically almost exclusively in their spacious and comfortable apartment) ratcheting up a claustrophobic sense of fear. The film also spends it's time almost solely on the two leads, the emotional weight they carry and the connection to the audience evidenced by genuine laughter, gasps and tears (laughter or sorrow I won't disclose) was incredibly moving for two (real-life) octogenarians that few would admit, they have more in common than they would believe.

I've not said much about the film's story - an elderly French couple live in a Parisian apartment until an unexpected event causes them to reevaluate their life - it is simple in it's construction and execution, and the emotional peaks are best experienced by yourself with a friend or family member and a receptive audience. I watched this at the Sydney Film Festival in June, about a month after it's premiere in Cannes in May for which it deservedly won with enthusiastic reception. The theatre was comparatively (and undeservedly) under attended, yet the reception was attentively silent, collectively moved.

Following the visceral and subversive Caché and the more refined and sprawling White Ribbon, it appeared that Haneke had reached a creative zenith. Almost inevitably however, and especially given with the subject matter, he has restrained his somewhat acerbic style and delivered a film that is superlatively honest and sincere in all it's creative aspects. He has given an honest appraisal of a tender human relationship that should move even the most dispassionate viewer by the often unflinching humanity displayed on screen. One of the greatest and profound achievements seen on screen in many years, this is film at it's purest and most powerful form.

Greetings again from the darkness. I have often defined an entertainer as one who delivers what the audience wants, while an artist creates what he must. Writer/director Michael Haneke strikes me as a true artist in cinema. And an exceptional one at that. Known for such unusual films as The White Ribbon, Cache', and the original Funny Games (1997), Haneke often has a way of showing us things about ourselves that we prefer not to see.

Amour means love, and this film could easily have been titled Love and Misery, as strong and indescribable feelings mount when a life partner begins the inevitable slide downhill ... a trip which often starts with something as bland as a few moments of blankness at the breakfast table.

Georges (Jean-Louis Trintignant, A Man and A Woman) and Anne (Emmanuelle Riva, Hiroshima Mon Amour) somehow draw our eye as they sit in the audience as seen from the stage of a soon-to-begin piano concerto. It's a thought provoking shot when paired with the familiar quip "All the world's a stage ...". Next we see this octogenarian couple chatting over breakfast, clearly comfortable with each other in the manner that only two people who have shared decades together can become.

A trip to the hospital confirms Anne has had a stroke. And then another. The rest of the film revolves around Georges keeping his promise to Anne that she won't be put back into the hospital. It's a real life situation that so many face, yet the answers remain cloudy. So Georges proceeds to become caregiver to the increasingly incapacitated Anne. First wheelchair bound with paralysis on one side. Next she's learning to operate a motorized chair. Then it's speech therapy. Finally, she' bedridden and devolving into someone who can't express simple emotions. No, this is not typical Hollywood entertainment. This is life's realities through the expressive acting of two of France's best.

It would be easy to say not much happens in the two hour running, but in fact, it is filled with the daily moments that make up life. The moments become an obstacle course when we must assist a loved one in the performance, or if we are the one being assisted. Nurses who may or may not be caring, friends who are struck helpless, and even family (played here by Isabelle Huppert, The Piano Teacher) who feel the responsibility to help, but are caught in the responsibilities of everyday life.

Death is a common occurrence in movies. Dying is actually quite rare. Haneke doesn't shy away from any aspect of this sorrowful and difficult journey. He forces us to consider the multiple sides of so many questions, and he certainly feels no obligation to provide us with simple solutions or happy endings. Georges walls off society from doing "what is best" for his wife. He prefers to honor her wishes.

These are two extraordinary performances from two of France's all-time best actors. Ms. Riva was rewarded with an Oscar nomination and Mr. Trintignant was just as deserving. Mr. Haneke has been nominated as Best Director and the film is up for both Best Foreign Film and Best Picture. Don't mistake any of that recognition as a sign that this is a mainstream movie. It's exquisite filmmaking, but many will find it difficult or impossible to watch. You best be ready to analyze death versus dying.

The fact that Amour is an instant classic in the art-house world is as indisputable as the emotions presented by the protagonists of the film are bewildering. This picture is Haneke's minimalistic yet mightily expressive homage to love as we know it, showing the feeling's overpowering force and heartfelt, altruistic nature. While remaining a thoroughly unsentimental and provocative picture, Amour delivers a most-demanding portrayal of an elderly couple's last days together. Those cultivated, sophisticated characters need to evaluate their long-lasting marriage and come to terms with their own emotions, and, simultaneously, discover the true meaning of love in itself. Decisions need to be made, and some of them might be shocking to say the least.

It's a beautiful but considerable piece of filmmaking, where a sombre atmosphere and touching yet disturbing imagery permeate every scene. Haneke's steady and visionary directorial hand promises many moving and heartbreaking sequences, while still providing a poetic exemplification of a well- lived life's concluding moments. It's impossible to find neither a plausible sense of redemption nor an authentic touch of consolation, no. The film displays a marvelous character-driven narrative, where loving individuals diverge from the seemingly familiar path and start arguing with their own opinions and ideals, leading to some truly perplexing choices. In the most unexpected manner Amour touches the controversial topic of euthanasia, emphatically depicting how difficult it might seem to even consider such a harsh decision.

Amour is a tender, scrupulous, demanding, two-hour visualization of a romance well beyond boundaries, and through its difficult notions it shows human existence in its most intimate and most elegiac state. That death seems inevitable from the very first minutes is certain, but the way Haneke chooses in order to finally arrive at this intensely upsetting conclusion is an uneasy one. Amour is definitely a cinematic powerhouse, which will leave the audiences in a most pensive, quiet - even downcast - mood, still astounding with its ubiquitous beauty.

If I had watched this film no less than 5 years ago, I'd probably wouldn't think too much about Michael Haneke's Palme d'Or winning Amour, which made him one of an elite group of filmmakers who had won the top prize at the Cannes Film Festival at least twice (and within a span of three years too). But I suppose having to live through some of life's experiences, both pleasant and those that are not, would have opened up one's horizons, connect and identify with the many elements about terminal illness and suffering, love and the quality of life, being affected in more ways that I would have normally allowed.

As in most of the Austrian filmmaker's movies, this film centers around the characters of Georges (Jean-Louis Trintignant) and Anne (Emmanuelle Riva), an elderly couple whom we see are enjoying the twilight of their lives, and their companionship with each other, since daughter Eva (Isabelle Huppert) is away overseas most of the time. Unfortunately Anne suffers a stroke and more, rendering her paralyzed on one side, gradually relying on the primary care provided by Georges to get through day by day. And given Georges' age, being primary caregiver is also something of a challenge, and a stress both mentally and physically, having made a vow to Anne that he is adamant in keeping, of having no further hospital visits, or to put her in a home.

The many things that Haneke had put into his film are the hard truths revolving around the dedicated attention given to the patient, from things like feeding and the changing of diapers, doing the household chores which include enlisting the help of others in grocery shopping, to hardware requirements like the commode or the adjustable bed. There may be a certain level of shyness involved during cleaning up, and in every step of the way you want to maintain the dignity of the patient, because the last thing you want to do is to have a drop of morale. The deterioration is painful to witness, as Eva goes from having strength to being completely bedridden, with the ability of communication, a very key thing, taken away when speech impairment rears its ugly head, when therapy can only do so much. Haneke doesn't gloss over the necessary aspects of suffering, even if under the hands of uncaring home nurses, and probably introduced a little tinge of fear as one grows old, gets sick, and get put under the mercy of others.

Georges gets the periodic visits from his daughter, but you can almost feel a distant rift between the two each time they try to sit down and communicate. What Haneke's story and screenplay brilliantly achieved is to be able to say so much without saying much at all, directing the actors to bring out ideas and back-channel communication through their acting craft, making it a very fulfilling experience watching, and dissecting the human relations and condition in each of the characters, even when Eva had to spend most of her time in bed, and portraying the limited range of emotions a stroke patient can muscle together. Perhaps I too felt some guilt each time Eva returns home to check on the latest status of her mom and dad, as it mirrors how I would have loved to be able to do more, if not for modern day commitments, or what we would like to think of as commitments.

Being a Haneke film, we'd come to know some darker moments to sort of jump through when we least expected, especially so when the title is one as benign as Love in its many forms. While what was shocking wasn't something narratively new in films done by others, it still made one heck of an impact, lingering for some time which I thought was quite wicked, leaving things rich and open to post-screening debate. Haneke makes you work to come up with your interpretation of events, never telling you verbose details unnecessary to spoonfeed, preferring that you experience and take away something from it, though this was perhaps one of his less obtuse works.

What made this film was also the performances of Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva, who hardly put in a wrong foot. Trintignant returns to the big screen after an absence of 7 years, with a role specifically written for him, which he duly delivered. His Georges came across as heartbroken and exasperated rolled into one. Emmanuelle Riva may seem to have gotten the easier role having to be in bed, and sometimes absent for the most parts as Georges keeps her Anne locked away, but credit to her fine acting without having the need to over-act or over-compensate for the condition she has to flesh out. The make up department also deserves mention for being able to realistically age her on screen as well.

Amour continues in its winning of the minds of various critics and chalking up awards in the festival circuit, as well as year end accolades. It should be interesting if it does culminate in walking away with the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar statuette next year. Recommended!