Amour

Amour (2012) Dir. Michael Haneke

Just when I thought Michael Haneke could surprise me no more, he comes along with a film like this. A film for which the jury at Cannes gave him his 2nd Palme d'Or in four years. And nothing less than this film deserves.

The story of an elderly French couple, their deteriorating health and devotion to each other is the basis, and allows the Austrian auteur to inject something rarely if ever seen in any of his films to date, heart.

Some of the typical Haneke touches are still there; the suffocating sense that something terrible is going to happen being his signature. His previous film, the 2008 Palme d'Or winning The White Ribbon keeps up this omnipresent dread for almost its entire runtime (also see the deus ex machina in Funny Games and continuous sense of dread in Cache). With these films Haneke has proved himself to be the biggest audience manipulator since the greatest of them all, Alfred Hitchcock.

But there's nothing artificially manipulative in Amour. And there's none of the sentimentality that less able directors would fall back on given the film's subject matter. The acting and characterisation is so strong that added sentiment is never needed, and is in fact the very last thing you'd expect to encounter in a Haneke picture.

The emotion felt towards the two protagonists as they struggle with coming to the end of their lives actually gave me a crushing sensation in my chest by the end of the runtime. This is an extremely tough film to watch at times, and on more than one occasion I had to look away from the screen.

The biggest compliment I can give this film, is that it made me want to call my parents.

5/5 stars. #1 film of the year so far.

This is a beautiful movie about the end of life. Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva are excellent as Georges and Anne. Their story is nothing new, we've seen it before (like most stories), but it is told with poignancy. This is a character piece that could be a slog for some. There are a few extraneous scenes that make the 127 minute film feel longer but, though the story takes place almost entirely inside their apartment, I never felt the sense of claustrophobia. There is an intimacy that at time's made me feel I was watching the couple from across the courtyard from my own apartment. It is a true statement of love between a husband and wife.

I must say I felt a little betrayed by the trailer. It depicts what I take to be a much darker narrative, almost sinister and the word 'attack' in the synopsis doesn't necessarily allude to a medical condition. I think I'd like to see that movie a little more.

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.

I thought I was going to be deeply affected by "Amour," based on my experience with Michael Haneke's "The White Ribbon" and the film's premise. My wife and I just recently watched her father degenerate physically and mentally over the last few years until his recent death, so the closeness to me of the subject matter combined with Haneke's uncompromising approach to filmmaking made me feel sure that I would be deeply disturbed by his film.

And while I was watching it, I felt like I should be feeling that way, but never really did. It's by any definition a formidable piece of filmmaking, but it left me cold. The events depicted in the film count among my worst nightmares and are even more terrifying for the significant likelihood that I will have to experience them in some fashion. But I never forgot that I was watching actors performing in a movie. There's something about Haneke's style that's cold and clinical, and the same quality that can make his movies deeply disturbing can also make them inaccessible.

To be honest, I'm kind of glad Haneke's style kept me at an emotional distance from the film, because I think it might otherwise have been unendurable.

Grade: A-