Funny Games. The Piano Teacher. Caché. The White Ribbon. Uh, the shot-by-shot U.S. remake of Funny Games. For years Austrian auteur Michael Haneke has been assaulting our most treasured bourgeois sentiments with his frosty cinematic style, psychosexual terrors and punishing silences. If Amour looks somehow more benign at first, that’s probably just a very nasty trick.
“Oh,” you might think, “It’s about love? Old people in love? That can’t be very edgy. Even with the addition of a debilitating stroke, how could it rise about intimate familial melodrama?” Just you wait. Haneke will find a way to make you jump like a twelve-year-old watching The Texas Chainsaw Massacre for the first time in a dark basement, alone. Dude could tangle with the Japanese when it comes to making fucked-up movies.
So prepare yourself for December 19, when Amour hits New York and LA, and you have all your darkest emotions scooped out of your body and piled before you like a towering ice cream sundae topped with blood. That’s how intense it’ll be. You may not even want to bring a date; it’ll be a shell-shocked, wordless meal at the diner afterward.
Follow Miles Klee on Twitter.