Amour

As an elderly couple settles into their daily routine, a crass unnoticed paradigmatic indiscretion, delivered with the same engendered clarity that may have often been a past passionate progenitor of amicable conjugal rage, is adorned by the traditional romantic reversal of fortunes, but this time they're accompanied by a direct physiological collapse, which culminates in the paralysis of Anne's (Emmanuelle Riva) left side.

Emotions run deep within husband Georges's (Jean-Louis Trintignant) struggles to rationally contain his unceasing grief.

His wits remain voluble and he's brittlely yet staunchly prepared for the logical and humanistic impairments of respective relatives and infirmières.

Attempts to ascertain one's dignity resonate as appearances must be qualified by brash benevolent exceptions.

Stoically exemplifying the lifelong dedication of a loving married couple, examining the conversational results of a relationship existing without distinct verbal limits, Michael Haneke's Amour no longer seeks to loquaciously dominate, but simply to be, to reflect, to bask, semantically dishevelling the tenants of prediction with none of the bells and whistles often used to set such scenes.

Just raw quotidian patient enduring dependent classical shock.

Still feeling the affects three hours later.