Love Etc.

The et cetera in “Love Etc.’’ sounds frivolous. Then you watch vital, 79-year-old Albert Mazur stir a can of Campbell’s soup for Marion, his older, only slightly less vital wife of a half-century, and your eyes well up with tears as much as the makers of, say, “The Notebook’’ would like them to. What we’re watching isn’t conventionally romantic. Albert cuts up some bread first while Marion sits, almost catatonic, at the kitchen table of their apartment. But by this point in Jill Andresevic’s documentary we know how much these two mean to each other, and this old man feeding this old woman is as stirring as John Wayne grabbing Maureen O’Hara in that doorway in “The Quiet Man.’’ Only, it’s real as well as vivid. It’s not simply that he loves her. It’s that love, in that moment, means doing something as mundane as stirring that stupid can of soup. It’s the et cetera, and the et cetera is everything.