Amour, a Review

Amour. Love. Georges and Anne embody this word. They are a married couple, in their 80's, living in a Parisian apartment. Both are retired music teachers, with a grand piano the focal point in their living room. Georges is played by French treasure, Jean-Louis Trintignant, whose body of work spans seven decades, and includes such classics as And God Created Woman, A Man and a Woman, and Three Colors: Red. Trintignant is considered one of France's most successful and prolific actors. Emmanuelle Riva, in a tour de force at the age of 85, plays Anne, and Riva's career closely mirrors Trintignant's. Riva was in the gorgeous, Hiroshima Mon Amour, as well as Kapo, and Bitter Fruit. Seeing the two of these masters onscreen together is an absolute joy and privilege.

The director, Michael Haneke, wrote the film with the two actors in mind. Trintignant and Riva have a beautiful chemistry that can only be seen in two so comfortable in this medium. They seem completely unaware of the camera at all times throughout the film.

The film opens with Georges and Anne going about their lives. They go out to see one of their former students play piano at a large theater. It is clearly a joy for them. Upon returning to their apartment, the love and familiarity they have for one another is apparent. Georges wants a night cap, Anne suggests that he have one, but insists that she's tired and wants to retire.

The next day, at the dining table, Georges is in the midst of a conversation with his wife when he notices a faraway look in her eye, and Anne subsequently is rendered catatonic. Georges does whatever he can to bring her back from this spell, at one point beautifully dabbing her face and neck with a cold cloth. When Georges sees that nothing he is doing is helping, he gets up to make a call to the doctor. While he is gone, she seemingly returns from her spell. But nothing is the same again.

Anne has had a stroke, and is now paralyzed on one side of her body. Georges's role as husband evolves to include caretaker and nurse. Anne's condition quickly worsens, and Georges tries desperately to be the only one to whom Anne relies. But this becomes too much for the both of them to be able to bear. Anne makes it clear to Georges early on that she won't be hospitalized, or attached to a machine, or put in the care of others. And when Anne disintegrates, we know what Georges will eventually have to do.

As completely sad as this film is, it doesn't elicit our tears through overt means, but instead puts us in the film, and forces us to look at our own lives. We cry, but not necessarily for them. We cry for ourselves and for our own experiences. We cry because we have seen those we love go through this. We cry because we hope that we will someday have someone care for us the way Georges cares for Anne. We cry because we hope that this never happens to our own parents, or we cry because it has indeed happened, and everything they experience is everything we've experienced. We cry because we all deserve to have someone love us enough to change our diaper if we have lost our ability to go to the bathroom on our own, and wash our hair when we can't stand up. We cry because we hope that whoever does this for us will do so like Georges does, exhibiting the utmost patience, kissing our forehead, holding our hand, and reminding us the story of our love.