Amour e pe "surse" de vreo luna. Nu obisnuiesc sa postez parerea altora, dar mi-e atat de indiferent filmul ala incat il citez pe Fernando Croce:

The encyclopedia of physical and mental indignities and excruciations is certainly as grueling as it’s meant to be, yet it’s also peculiarly unmoving. I’m an easy crier, so how could such a story not bring me to tears? Could it be that Haneke, for all his compositional exactitude and earfuls of Schubert, has such an arctic view of humanity that he can’t feel much for it even when he sees it painfully decaying? Talk of his “tender” and “humanistic” side feels hollow; to me he’s the same masterful, sadistic manipulator, still torturing his characters and his audiences for their own supposed good.