(Michael Haneke, 2012)

with Ellen Mezzera, Lincoln Plaza Cinemas, 2/2/13



Spare and lovely, brutal and tender, rich with silence and dialogue both.  Amour takes place almost entirely in one (beautiful) Paris apartment, and one of its pleasures is the way we come to feel at home there – to know the geography, the bric-a-brac, the textures and the light.  This may be the first movie I’ve ever seen that has no musical scoring; the effect is to give the film a kind of eloquent bluntness – an unembellished poetry.  Like many European directors before him, Haneke is interested in showing the duration of things, but he’s canny enough to vary his rhythm by cutting into and out of scenes in abrupt and surprising ways.  The ending is perhaps unnecessarily perplexing, but the film’s visceral power is inescapable.  The terror of Amour is that it could be anyone’s story; the beauty of it is the way every detail grounds it in the specificity of a particular shared life.

Published in: on February 3, 2013 at 2:50 pm  Comments (1)