Georges and Anne are an octogenarian couple. They are cultivated, retired music teachers. Their daughter, also a musician, lives in Britain with her family. One day, Anne has a stroke, and the couple's bond of love is severely tested.
A 14-year-old video enthusiast is so caught up in film fantasy that he can no longer relate to the real world, to such an extent that he commits murder and records an on-camera confession for his parents.
A European family who plan on escaping to Australia, seem caught up in their daily routine, only troubled by minor incidents. However, behind their apparent calm and repetitive existence, they are actually planning something sinister.
Georges and Anne are a couple of retired music teachers enjoying life in their eighties. However, Anne suddenly has a stroke at breakfast and their lives are never the same. That incident begins Anne's harrowingly steep physical and mental decline as Georges attempts to care for her at home as she wishes. Even as the fruits of their lives and career remain bright, the couple's hopes for some dignity prove a dispiriting struggle even as their daughter enters the conflict. In the end, George, with his love fighting against his own weariness and diminished future on top of Anne's, is driven to make some critical decisions for them both.Written by
Kenneth Chisholm (firstname.lastname@example.org)
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.
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