Amour

2012

Written and directed by Michael Haneke
Cast: Emmanuelle Riva, Jean-Louis Trintignant, Isabelle Huppert

This year’s winner of the prestigious Palme d’Or is a heartbreakingly beautiful story of the latter stages of life that are seldom portrayed on the big screen.

Anne (Riva) and Georges (Trintignant) are a retired elderly couple whose lifelong love is put to the test when Anne suffers a stroke and her physical and mental condition gradually worsen.  

For those who are familiar with Haneke’s work, a film about a loving married couple may seem an odd choice, but Amour is no sentimental and romantic piece of cinema.  Far from sugar-coating the details or resorting to a portrayal of the couple’s young love in a soppy Notebook style, Amour is frighteningly truthful: as Georges holds his wife’s face in his hands, devoid of emotion and response, the reality of old age cannot be escaped.

This does not only arise from the sincerity of the French veteran actors’ performances (both of whom were honoured at this weekend’s European Film Awards), but through Haneke’s techniques which force you to accept the truth of the situation. For just over two hours, you feel as confined in the couple’s apartment as the failing Anne herself, never seeing the light of day or escaping to a happier past; a few quick flicks of a photo album do little to brighten the couple or the audience’s mood. Each scene lingers, held on those few additional moments, and you find yourself part of the on-going struggle into which this normal couple are unwillingly thrown.

The absence of a soundtrack contributes to this realism; you cannot distract yourself through a romantic melody. Instead, you are obliged to watch every emotion and hear every painful utterance.  The lack of natural light further adds to this confinement and gives a faded tint to each scene, reflecting upon the characters’ fading days.

Riva and Trintignant completely embody their characters to such an extent that they do not seem to be acting; they could be your grandparents, your elderly neighbours or, as is the case for one character, your former teachers.  George asks his wife what she would do if she were in his shoes, and thus Haneke indirectly asks this to the audience itself.  Perhaps you’ll put yourself in the shoes of Eva, the daughter who fails to come to terms with her mother’s condition and the way in which her father handles it, or perhaps you’ll become the partner whose emotional suffering matches that of Anne’s physical distress. The controversial debate on the morality of euthanasia once again finds ground, this time more relatable than ever.

This is a story that affects us all but is rarely given screen-time in our youth-focused culture. With no tricks or thrills, Haneke gives the most realistic portrayal of life’s inevitable and often melancholic conclusion whose power is uncomfortable and unforeseen. When the credits rolled, the cinema was silent.