Amour (2012)

There is a lesser known Humphrey Bogart film called "In a Lonely Place", where Bogart plays an aggressive, alcoholic screenwriter whose life might possibly be saved by a young woman. There is a scene in the film which has stuck in my mind even after the rest of the film has slipped away. The two of them are in the kitchen, he is making breakfast, she is reading a script of his. He tells her, "A good love scene should be about something else besides love. For instance, this one. Me fixing grapefruit. You sitting over there, dopey, half-asleep. Anyone looking at us could tell we're in love." This idea left an impression on me, and I have never failed to think about it when I watch a film in which love is proclaimed.

Amour is "love" in French, and although I feel patronizing saying it, I mention this only because that it is an enormous title for a film which implies that are going to see what love truly is. Michael Haneke's "Amour" rises to the challenge of the expectations which it has set for itself by presenting us with a wrenching, deeply powerful image of what love should be, and what it can be. He gives it to us with grace, humility, and a great wisdom which causes one to pause and reflect on the relationships we have forged or will forge in our lifetime.

It is a simple story of an elderly couple, Georges and Anne, ex-music teachers, who will have to suffer one last great trial in their relationship and navigate the final evolution of a true romance. Anne suffers a debilitating stroke, one which will lead her down a slow, winding path towards death. An open shot shows the fire department breaking into a seeming deserted apartment to find the dead Anne lying on her bed, her head wreathed in flowers. The film's ending, then, is no surprise to us, and we are well aware that are going to see how their relationship is tested until its final end.

It is an unflinching look into the face of mortality (though it at times will make us flinch while watching it), in which Georges, honoring Anne's wishes, does not take her to a hospital or a home, choosing instead to look after her himself. The bathings, diaper changes, feedings, wheelchairs and all of the other heartbreaking elements of watching a loved one approach death are shown with patience and tender emotion. Haneke was very smart to take his time and let every excruciating moment have its breathing room. To hurry through unpleasantness would cheapen his message. His film is impeccably directed.

Obviously, to contend with subject matter such as this, two exceptionally gifted actors were needed, and Haneke found them in Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva. Films like this one are always my favorites because their success or failure relies so heavily on the relationship between actor and director, and actor and actor. It is very apparent that Haneke, Trintignant and Riva all shared a certain level of professionalism and comfort with one another, otherwise the bravura performances simply would not have been there.

Riva, at first glance, has the more difficult challenge of the two. She not only had to master the physical complexities of a woman slipping away, unable to use the right side of her body, but also had to make us believe in what she was doing. Not since Daniel Day-Lewis' Christy Brown in "My Left Foot" have I been so thoroughly convinced that the actor was not acting an ailment. I believed her. And what's more, she tore out my heart.

As good as she was, however, she would have been nothing without Trintignant. I responded more to him, who had to make sense of the complexities of loving a person so much that he would do anything for her. His Georges surprised me in the dignity that he fought for in her passing. There was no self-pity, there was no loss of self-control. He was humiliated, of course he was. But Georges fights to protect that dignity that he and his wife share right to the bitter end. Observe him during the first scene in which Anne suffers the onset of her stroke. He does not panic. He looks calmly into her eyes, asks her what the matter is, and when she doesn't respond he fetches a wet towel to dab her face with. Only then when she still doesn't respond does he get dressed to find help. That is the deeply affectionate man he is. Georges knows his wife, and wants to tend to her himself.

I am young and I have never been in love. In a small way I'm sure that distanced me from fully absorbing the true effects of this movie, though I am mildly glad to say that this was so. It is an emotionally shattering film that made me yearn for companionship. Although I would have to watch this again to be sure, I don't believe that either of them ever once said "I love you". They never said much of anything of significance, in fact. Their silence was thunderous, however, and when they did speak it was about grapefruit. That, I believe, is what amour is about.

4/4