Love

     It is hard to say that I enjoyed Love (Amour). Watching the physical and mental deterioration of an elderly woman through the eyes of her devoted husband is not something a person can really enjoy. Rather, I was wholly captivated by Michael Haneke’s honest portrayal of the intertwined and complex relationship between love and death as it unfolds in a simple but emotionally moving film. 

George and Anne are in their eighties. After returning home from a classical music concert, a passion for both the retired music teachers, George delicately takes off his wife’s coat and tells her how beautiful she looks. Haneke never gives us the couple’s backstory, but these subtle and loving interactions clearly depict a relationship that survived decades. 

One morning at breakfast, Anne suffers a stroke that, after a failed surgery, leaves the right side of her body paralyzed. Eventually, Anne suffers another stroke, and the remainder of the film explores her agonizing descent into mental and physical oblivion.  

The success of this film is greatly due to the superb acting by Jean-Louis Trintignant (George) and Emmanuelle Riva (Anne). Once Anne’s health starts to crumble, George’s role is to react to her actions. Trintignant does this with unwavering honesty as he attempts to keep his wife alive while preserving both of their dignity. 

Riva’s Anne is astounding. While her performance is so realistic it is almost disturbing, it is all the more devastating because of Riva’s initial portrayal of Anne as a bright endearing woman. 

After becoming paralyzed, Anne tests out her new motor scooter. She whizzes around George and practices stopping as if it is a new toy to play with. This lighthearted tone contrasts with a later scene where Anne struggles to control her own movements, and cannot drive the scooter without bumping into door frames. Riva’s character arc is mesmerizing to witness however dreadful her health becomes. 

By the end of the film, Anne is reduced to nonsensical babblings and droning moans of the word, “hurts.” In one scene, George tries to feed Anne some water. At this point, she is in the late stages of her illness. Her words are gibberish and she needs constant physical care from both George and a pair of nurses. She refuses to open her mouth and spits up any water that George manages to get through. Exhausted, George asks Anne if she wants to die. Her eyes narrow and come alive. Usually unresponsive and unaware, Anne’s sudden alertness in this scene is one of the most heart shattering of the film. Riva barely moves, but the nuance in her facial expression reveals Anne’s inner desperation for death. 

Haneke’s pacing is slow, but deliberate as he immerses you into George and Anne’s confined world. With the exception of the music concert, the entire film takes place in their tidy Parisian apartment where only a handful of other characters ever enter. Repeatedly, he shoots the couple together but at a distance, and long takes dominate the film as we observe in real time George’s constant care of Anne. 

Soon after her first stroke, George helps Anne move from her wheelchair to another chair in the house. As George lifts Anne’s slumped body, it almost looks like they are sharing a loving embrace. However, this illusion quickly dissolves as George struggles to support both of their weight and move the mere two feet to the second chair. Every step, mouthful of food, and attempt at conversation is a chore that Haneke makes us experience along with George and Anne.  

Love is emotionally draining. As Anne becomes more and more incoherent it is painful to watch the fatigue and heartache in George’s eyes as he loses his wife one day at a time. However, what makes it such a rewarding film is its ability to portray the truth. There are countless movies on love, several on death but few centered on an elderly couple, yet Anne and George’s story is one that will effect us all one day. Haneke presents the unavoidable occurrence of losing someone you love through beautiful cinematography and unflinchingly realistic acting.

It is no secret that Anne will succumb to her illness as the film begins with authorities finding her dead body adorned with flowers, however Haneke is not concerned with teasing out Anne’s fate. Death is inevitable. What is interesting, and where the poignant story lies in Love, is how a person reaches this inevitability.