Obviously a festival favourite, this French language
film has been shown at Paris, Berlin and Vienna, among others and won the Palme d’Or at Cannes 2012. It is a
powerful exploration of an elderly couple, Anne (Emmanuelle Riva) and Georges
(Jean-Louis Trintigant), whose relationship undergoes severe strain when Anne
suffers a stroke and Georges has to care for her.
The story is told in one long flashback, so the
outcome is known from the beginning. Both Anne and Georges are retired piano
teachers, and an introductory scene shows them among an audience watching a
pianist at a performance. The film features a lot of talk about music, and lots
of records and CDs on the bookshelves, but there is no intrusive background
music. Towards the end Georges drifts into music in his mind and he imagines
Anne sitting at the piano.
One of Anne’s former pupils visits her and begins to
play a piece on the piano in the apartment, but the film is often silent. When Georges
plays the piano himself, we can clearly hear Anne’s breathing. A cleaner comes
and does the hoovering; other sounds are running water or the chink of a knife
on a plate. To break the quietude, Georges does the washing up with the radio
on.
Apart from the opening concert scene, the film is shot
entirely in the apartment. There are close-ups of the landscape pictures on the
walls, and further intimate images of Anne’s face as she is fitted with a nappy
by a nurse. This silence and single set, combined with a very small cast could
become oppressive were it not for the sensitive direction of Michael Heneke and
the outstanding acting abilities of the couple and their daughter, Eva
(Isabelle Huppert) which flesh out this everyday domestic tale of ageing and
family dynamics.
Anne’s incapacity is the result of a failed operation
on a blocked carotid artery. There is only a 5% failure rate, but that is
little comfort for the patient. Anne makes Georges promise never to take her
back to the hospital, which he is willing to do in the early stages. She
returns to the apartment in a motorised wheelchair, spinning around with rare
laughter. They realise they still have many stories they haven’t told each
other even after so many years of marriage, and their emotions intensify with
their memories.
As Anne deteriorates, she becomes increasingly frustrated and grumpy. Georges tells her she will end up friendless and scolds, “What would you say if no one came to your funeral?” to which she replies, “Nothing, probably”. Georges cuts up her food, dresses her, takes her to the toilet, and washes her hair with a saucepan in the bath. He acts without any trace of rancour but it is clear that as he must do everything for her, neither of them has any independence.
When Anne tries to reach for a book, she falls out of
bed and breaks a lamp. Georges calmly repositions her, and all the inanimate
objects, mildly rebuking, “Can’t you call me when you need something?” Anne
begs him not to treat her like a moron and insists that she doesn’t want to go
on – not for her sake but for his – as she knows it will only get worse. His
own fears are of being burgled or invaded and he worries about leaving the
apartment to fetch groceries, involving the concierge and his wife who keep a
respectful distance while supplying neighbourly assistance.
Hiring a nurse gives Georges some relief yet, despite
his daughter’s urging, he refuses to renege on his promise. Eva reinforces the audience’s
understanding of the bond between her parents when she tells Georges that she
remembers hearing them make love. Unlike many children, she wasn’t embarrassed
at the thought of her parents’ sex life but rather felt reassured, thinking it
proved that they were in love and would always have each other.
Eva’s husband has affairs, which she is used to
although her father doesn’t understand why she stays in an unhappy
relationship. And this is the nub of the film – no one can understand the ties
that bind, whether through marriage or blood. Georges tells Eva, “I love you as
much as your mother” but his ability to juggle affiliations is limited. When
Eva bemoans Anne’s state, Georges tells her, “Your concern is no use to me. I
don’t have time to deal with your concern. It annoys me to see you breeze in
here saying what’s right. Who do you think you are?” She is family.
Armour is subtle and stunning, saying so much in so few
words. It is heart-wrenchingly beautiful and dignified, despite its somewhat
depressing premise. We can only agree with Anne’s final whispered words; “C’est
beau, la vie”.
