Amour

The current French film “Amour” ranks for me as one of the best I have ever seen. In the boldness of its subject matter, the beauty of its artistry, and the marvelous performances of its three main actors, Amour stands out for its excellence.  As the Academy Awards celebration approaches, I hope for this film the prize as the best and that Emanuelle Riva, now 85 years old, will be honored as best actress.

 I approached Amour with some trepidation, knowing in advance about its depiction of old age suffering.  That may apply to me, I thought, and I do not want to face in my own life what the couple in the film must endure.

But the film does not deal merely with suffering though it surely does this.  Mainly, however, it deals with love as its title suggests.  My heart stirred to what love demanded of the two old people, she by way of enduring debilitating illness, he as the provider of her care.

I dare not say anything about this film’s conclusion.  To do so would violate what moviegoers have a right to see and judge for themselves. And, almost surely, they will be deeply moved, I can confidently say.