The thirteenth film by Michael Haneke, genius of contemporary cinema, could not have a different title. Love is perhaps the only true protagonist of this deeply human story; love in its purest and freest form, a feeling so tremendously inconsistent, capable of giving immense joys as well as tremendous pains to the body and soul. And it is precisely this inconsistency that fuels the entire film: we witness a profoundly high, noble, and ancient bond, like that of an elderly couple, Georges and Anne, which at the same time disturbs, frightens, almost terrifies us when she is struck by a serious illness that confines her to bed and slowly and hopelessly transforms her into a kind of paralyzed vegetable. He loves her as he has always loved her, and he will take care of her, avoiding talking about the illness with everyone, even with their daughter, as if speaking of it would stab his heart already shattered by pain. "I have so many stories to tell you," says Georges to Anne during that breakfast marking the beginning of the ordeal: a phrase that captures two entire lives and becomes a symbol of what they will have to endure together. Both know that things will not improve, but will soon lead to the most obvious yet most feared consequence, death, yet Anne seems especially frightened by the lack of autonomy, by not being able to live her life on her own terms, by the loss of her dignity. Georges understands this and is willing to do anything to assist his love, even to the point of self-exclusion from the world. It is no coincidence that the film is shot entirely indoors, with Paris never seen, hidden by the white curtains of the living room. 

Winner of the Palme d'Or at Cannes 2012 and performed by two extraordinary actors, Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva, "Amour" is a disturbing film, just as disturbing as all the films that Haneke gives us. And even in this case, his unmistakable style disorients and amazes: blistering coldness, absence of soundtrack, long static shots, rawness, an almost indifference to everything he shows us, almost as if he were saying: "I am a director, I'm doing my job, as for the rest, your own business." And it doesn't matter if what he shows reveals how fragile our human nature is, hanging by a thread. 

It is a hermetic film, where beautiful images are inserted, like the figure of a pigeon that enters the house twice, in the midst of the illness and after the death, almost like a metaphorical messenger. And there's also a sort of thinly veiled optimism, as in the scene where Anne reviews her life looking at an old photo album and says, resigned but happy: "It’s nice to live this long... a long life..." And indeed, not everyone gets the chance to live so long and so intensely: it's a message that makes "Amour" an absolute masterpiece that goes beyond the simple cinematic genre, standing instead as a universally valid work of Art. 

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