2010's Catch-Up: Amour (4/19/2020)

Oh boy, this one was rough.

Recently, my family went through a grave tragedy as my grandmother succumbed to kidney failure. I had a special relationship with my grandmother, and it was hard to see her go. Much harder, though, was the daily struggle she went through towards the end. Watching her full of pain and despair as her body shut down around her and she couldn't even leave her bed, knowing that there was no hope of getting better and that she was going to die sooner rather than later but was still forced to live through this daily hell - that was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. But I still stayed by her side, because I loved her.

This is a side of love that the movies don't normally show; a decidedly brutal and non-romantic side. Watching a loved one suffer and suffering for said loved one for their sake and not yours. Being by their side even when it's hard to do so, caring for them even when the benefits of doing so amount to nothing more than just making their last days slightly less unbearable than they could be - and, sometimes, making hard choices that you never imagined you would have to make.

Amour is not only the rare portrayal of this kind of love, but also perhaps the best I've seen. Its central relationship is not between two young, charming characters in the middle of an intense honeymoon phase but between two octogenarians Anne and Georges Laurent who have spent so long with each other that they can't conceive of a life without each other. Their bond isn't fiery like it probably was when they were young, but it is strong beyond words, and tested to the brink when Anne has a stroke. What follows is an ultimately futile struggle to care for her as her body and cognitive functions slowly deteriorate until her inevitable demise. And I do mean inevitable - the opening scene of the film shows her dead body, leaving us no doubts as to how this story is going to end.

Obviously, Amour is not an easy film to watch. Frankly, it's a devastating experience, and I'm still reeling from it. It's not a film that made me cry - though your mileage may vary - but it hit deeper than that, like a gut punch to my very soul itself. There is, however, a beauty to it. It doesn't wallow in its own ugliness and misery. With director Michael Haneke's impeccable control of his visuals, we see only what exists, plain and simple. It's not forced in our faces, it's just shown to us. The emotions come from those of the characters themselves. The images we're shown speak volumes as to the character's thoughts, feelings and desires, and so much is said with so little.

Haneke's direction also ensures that the film always leaves one thing up to the viewer; judgment. The camera is merely a messenger here, linking the audience to the character's on screen in an intimate way. Georges, who acts as protagonist for the most of the film, makes some questionable (to put it lightly) choices towards the end of the film, but all Haneke is interested in capturing is the why; what led him to this point? Why did he do it? The result is shades of grey that mirror the reality of the complex emotions that nearly every human has. Is Georges selfish? Is he motivated to make difficult choices by the love he has for his wife? Or is it some complicated mixture of the two?

Of course, this is all accentuated greatly by excellent performances by Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva. The two bring their characters to live, disappearing into their identities and emotions flawlessly. Trintignant in particular put in one of the single greatest performances of the last decade, with a heartbreakingly vulnerable yet bold and courageous portrayal of his character.

Amour is a brutally honest and unflinching film that confronts some of the most uncomfortable realities of love and the human conditions. But there's also a tenderness here, one that manages to coax out the beauty in all of the bleakness. Suffering and death are not beautiful, but what is beautiful is the undying love and connection between one human being and another. Even in its most raw form, even in the face of death and despair, love can find a way to live on.

Check out my 2010s Catch-Up Scorecard here!