Interesteg What makes it different from others?

CheerupSilver Very Cool!!!

Ogosmith Each character in this movie — down to the smallest one — is an individual rather than a type, prone to spontaneous changes of mood and sometimes amusing outbursts of pettiness or ill humor.

Keira Brennan The movie is made so realistic it has a lot of that WoW feeling at the right moments and never tooo over the top. the suspense is done so well and the emotion is felt. Very well put together with the music and all.

merelyaninnuendo Amour4 And A Half Out Of 5Amour is a character driven feature about an old couple that goes through their last phase of the unbroken love when a tragic incident leaves them by shook. The construction of the world depicted in here is so mesmerizing that despite of being restrained within four walls; literally, it is thoroughly busy and competent. Despite of having such bold moves on the chess board, none of them seems to have broken any sort of rule; the audience is never left cheated which often happens whilst leaping few turns. The chemistry is without any doubt, some of the best that the cinema had to offer to the audience and not due to its soothing tone and sweetness involved in it but its three dimensional perspective towards each little things. The writing is genuinely moving, emotionally manipulative and adaptive which leaves the audience in an awe of it; the metaphorical pigeon will haunt you even after the curtain drops. It is rich on technical aspects like the d.o.p., camera work and detailed production design. Smarter sound designing, alluring background score and the ingenious structure of the script are the high points of the feature. Haneke; the screenwriter-director, is in his A game where his script does meet its brilliant execution skills which is rare and exquisite. But in the end, it's all about the act, it's all performance, and boy what an act they have staged. Riva and Trintignant are; similar to their characters, dependent on each other flaunting their behemoth talent on screen that can make viewers' eyes pop out. Amour is chillingly beautiful to the core and not for its knack of drawing out the emotions from the audience but for its loudness that it demands to be seek upon.

powermandan There's been lots of movies about retirees, but not much about senior citizens this old. Even when 'Amour' is compared to some of those, this will likely come up stronger.Georges and Anne Laurent are in their mid-80's. One day, Anne suffers a stroke which leads to a strong state of dementia. Her physical and mental health is deteriorating and will only get worse. Georges can can only sit by and watch his wife of over fifty years in chronic pain. It is pretty obvious how this ends, but we are still heartbroken beyond words when it does. So that's basically what the movie is about. It can be summarized into three lines without much else to say that's very crucial. So it may be a little basic and simple in its story and directing, but it has the power to shatter you. About one or two minutes of the entire film taking place outside their apartment. Most takes are very long. These two elements completely suck the viewer directly into the world of this married couple. I love it when movies take me into their world, but 'Amour' does it much deeper than most. After the viewer arrives into the Laurent apartment, the long takes make the viewer feel as if they are sitting in a chair watching Georges and Anne's lives unravel. And there are some moments of great camera work that is surprising considering it all takes place in an apartment.Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva give performances to behold. Their performances are beyond amazing. Even without the strong immersive quality, I would still have been amazed. Seeing Anne's deterioration and Georges' loss of patience and increase of emotional pain progress makes you feel like you are watching exactly what it being seen. You have to be reminded these are just two talented actors. There's a few other people that come to the apartment (including Isabelle Huppert who plays their daughter), but we focus on the two main characters. Here is a simple art-film that packs an enormous punch. Aside from being the best elderly movie ever, it might just be my favourite foreign language film of the decade thus far.

sharky_55 When Georges tells his wife Anne how pretty she looks out of the blue one night, and Anne giggles in return like a smitten schoolgirl, we're instantly struck by how odd the moment is for a Haneke film. For a filmmaker of such strict adherence to formalist austerity, and a heavy thematic gavel pushing his cinema of the cruel, it is unusual to see a character exhibit such carefree and willing tenderness. Haneke has now made some half a dozen films around couples named in the same variation of Anne or Anna or George or Georges, and in all of them his grasp slowly but surely closes in, and the audience is left shifting uncomfortably in their seats. And yet now he has made a film that none ever thought his cold fingers would touch, a touching, humanist story about the depths and despairs of life-long love. Anne is played by Emmanuelle Riva, who was a stunning portrait of beauty and vulnerability in Alain Resnais' post-war masterpiece Hiroshima Mon Amour. Here she is eighty five, and those looks have long faded, and yet Jean-Louis Trintignant still makes us believe that he sees a pretty girl by his side. Together they give a bodily performance that speaks great truths of the bond they have created over decades of marriage, leaning on each other when they must, shuffling in and out of the toilet, edging gingerly out of the bed each morning. In one instance, Georges steadies his wife and slowly, agonisingly, shifts her from the bed into her electric wheelchair. That she immediately pushes the stick and zooms away from him is like a slap to the face of her husband (not unlike the literal slap he deals her for not drinking her water), but the moment is made pathetic when she gets stuck and must be once again rescued. Trintignant gives a performance that matches his other half, capturing not only a body made weary but a mind shouldering a heavy burden. He trudges through the mostly empty apartment silently, is visited by nightmares of the decrepit home, and has to grit his teeth and accept the compliments from his friends while secretly wishing to hire a second nurse to lift his workload. When he narrates the details of a funeral that he attended but Anne missed, we realise that he is falling back into habit, recounting his day to someone who is barely listening, and the heaviness of his words hits even harder. Haneke enthusiasts (if there even is such a thing) might be surprised at his newfound humanism, but a glance confirms that his cinematic style has not changed. He is still working through a sterile realism, and although Anne forbids Georges from sending her to a cold, lonely hospital, the confines of their apartment begin to feel the same way. The cinematography goes all the way back to the morbid stillness of Haneke's debut, The Seventh Continent, using heavily diffused natural light through windows to recreate paintings not unlike the ones hanging on their walls. The film cuts periodically to the now darkened, empty interiors, but it is the couple trudging through it that expresses the gradual inertia of their marriage. Haneke's own experiences inspired the story, remembering his elderly aunt who had raised him and spent the final years of her life suffering alone with rheumatism, similarly confined in her apartment. Underlined in the film is his tiny cry of forgiveness, echoing the same sorrows that Georges is put through. To pull the plug is almost unthinkable to a man who has been married for decades. Yet to watch on as the memory of his wife slowly slides into ruin is almost a greater crime. Haneke is never coy; he begins with the end, and makes us sure of what is coming and what must be done. Yes, many will disagree with his actions, but is it really our place to be making moral judgements? What we must witness is the act of a man who sees his wife disappear before his very eyes, first momentarily, then gradually. They have composed and performed music side by side on the piano, and then listened to the fruits of their teaching many years later. They have ate and slept and lived, inseparable. And now they are together again, in memory.

bliss66 I've always been an admirer of Haneke's work but this film left me cold. It is well made and the performances are terrific (especially Jean-Louis Trintignant); Haneke is certainly a master filmmaker whose formality certainly demands attention. Such is his hold on the viewer that the film doesn't really allow for self-reflection or moments when one might mourn the loss of their own loved ones. It is very tightly contained. I think it is best described as Disneyland for people who've never had to deal with end of life issues.As a gay man who came of age during the AIDS in the '80s, death was always a factor. I felt surrounded by it and supported friends and strangers alike who suffered and died. Even beyond that, I've supported friends who cared for parents who were in declining health and died. (Gay sons and daughters often assume these roles.) It is a honour to care for people and share the last stages of their lives with them. Death is inevitable for us all but it ain't over 'till it's over.Maybe that's why it seems like such an indulgence. We all have loved ones. The couple depicted, comparatively, suffer very little. The have a roof over their heads, groceries delivered daily, you never see them on the phone haggling with insurance companies; she receives the necessary care. On reflection, it seems that Haneke is indignant that we should die at all! To add some drama, he takes an unfair crack at the nursing profession which hardly seems representative in my experience.The whole thing was very unedifying. I was reminded of far superior films on this topic, most notably the 1993 documentary Silverlake Life which records the last months of a documentary filmmaker's harrowing life with AIDS, both the good and the bad days, and is a true celebration of life and love; Kirby Dick's Sick: The Life and Death of Bob Flanagan, Supermasochist (1997) is another startling record of long term illness and eventual death that manages to celebrate a difficult existence. These are films that truly look death in the face. Amour is just bourgeois old people in formalised decline with a nurse who brushed the old woman's hair too hard. For once, Haneke seems out of his depth; you almost wish the doorbell would ring and the film would lurch into a mashup of Funny Games and Amour. If someone videotaped it, you'd have Cache as well.Have been mystified by the across the board praise of this film. Are people really that distant from death?