Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles

Starring: Delphine Seyrig, Jan Decorte, Henri Storck, Jacques Doniol-Valcroze, Chantal Akerman (voice)
Directed by: Chantal Akerman
Rating: Not rated
Genre: Drama
1975

Times Seen:
Tim: 1

Summary: A woman (Delphine Seyrig) goes about her daily life and chores, but underneath her stoic exterior, a growing dissatisfaction bubbles.

Review:

Tim: Maybe I'm crazy, because I kind of loved Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles. I know it's extremely highly regarded among film critics, but from the outside, it felt like a film that would be easy to dislike. I'd never heard of the film before Sight and Sound Magazine named it the Greatest Film of All Time in their 2022 poll. This surprised a lot of people, myself included. I'd only read a bit about the film before watching it, but I knew it was extremely long and mostly focused on a woman doing mundane tasks. Truly, it felt a bit pretentious to me before I watched it.

When I sat down to view it, though, I saw something else. I saw genius, in this 25 year-old filmmaker, Chantal Akerman. She crafted an undeniably brilliant film. Over the course of 3 hours and 21 minutes, she takes us on a journey unlike any I've experienced in cinema. This is the definitive quiet film, occasionally an agonizing film to watch. And yet, that's where her brilliance lies. This isn't just about making a slow, quiet move. Akerman uses those subtleties to tell a powerful story that has us riveted in the details. That is truly genius.

The movie is famous for its long sequences, featuring a stationary camera and Jeanne Dielman doing the most mundane tasks. We watch her make coffee. She turns the lights on and off and on and off as she moves from room-to-room in her house. She makes dinner and we're there in a long, single take shot watching her perform this task. She washes the dishes with her back to the camera and we watch her until she's finished. She polishes shoes, runs errands, lives her small and quaint life. This sounds incredibly boring to me, but it so seldom is. Akerman films this woman in such a dry, disengaging way that we're pulled into every detail. I can picture her house even now, because I stared at it for hours. Without engaging our minds much with what's on screen, they can wander. I found myself thinking about this character and her life. I contemplated the bravery Akerman had at such a young age to craft a film that flies in the face of nearly all expectations. I wasn't bored very often. I wanted to understand this stoic character. What was Jeanne Dielman thinking as she performed these tasks, day after day. I became engrossed in this mostly usual life.

I believe one of the most brilliant parts of this film is how it makes us feel different things. I know the specific feelings will depend on the person, but if you pay attention to them, that will reveal something about yourself. Undoubtedly, some viewers will be bored stiff throughout the entirety of the film. That's fine. My emotions were more up-and-down. Sure, I was bored at times. But I was more often engaged, trying to understand why I was watching what I was watching. At times, I grew enraged. The most memorable example of this is the first dinner Jeanne has with her son. She put in a ton of effort to get to this point- not just cooking the dinner, but setting the table and all the small things to get them ready to eat. And then, they sit there in silence. Sure, she gently reminds him not to read while he's eating. But, this mother and son eat mostly in silence. And we're just there, watching it. I felt this growing anxiety. What the hell was even happening? Why were we subject to this? Why wouldn't they ask about each other's days? Why didn't they talk? At a certain point, I wanted to scream, "Say something!" Akerman gives us the mundane and then we react to it in very different ways. The idea of eating dinner with my family in silence would drive me insane, so I reacted similarly watching the Dielmans. It was through the dullness of this film that I was able to recognize that.

It's mesmerizing to watch Jeanne's ritualistic approach to ordinary chores. Without much stimulus, you're forced to focus on every one of her mannerisms. I can tell you exactly how she dries silverware and her funny way of putting it away, because I watched her do it. There was no external music, no voice over, just a woman drying and putting away silverware. What's funny is that the first day, we watch all this in agonizing detail. We get her routine. And then, on days two and three, we see little shifts in her behavior, little cracks in her routines. These are small, nearly imperceptible at first. In any other situation, they would seem unimportant. But, because we were so engaged in every minor detail, they appear enormous to us. On the second day, I'd often whisper to myself, "What the hell is she doing?" about the smallest things, because they felt massively out of place. It's through first establishing every specific detail of Jeanne's routines do variations of it feel important. That's another aspect of Akerman's brilliance.

Early on, it becomes apparent that Jeanne also has intercourse with men during the day for money. Akerman wisely puts this detail on the first day and it feels jarring. For a woman who follows her routines so precisely, it feels odd. However, we're comforted by the fact that she follows a specific pattern for this behavior, too. By ritualizing it, it feels more in character than it otherwise would. I remember waiting eagerly for the afternoon of the second day- was this a one-time thing, or part of her daily routine? I was interested in seeing if someone else would show up. It also gives a hint that Jeanne Dielman is more than she might first appear. This is so critical, it's this detail that gives you confidence Akerman has a bigger plan in mind. This isn't just a movie about a woman doing chores- she's more than what she does. Who she is, what drives her, her hopes and dreams- we might not see that on her face, she might not narrate those to us, but they are there. This leads us down a whole other path- the desire to understand this character more. Akerman, frustratingly at times, refuses to satisfy our curiosity by divulging much about Jeanne's inner life. The dialogue is so sparse and mostly inane, ordinary things. She never tells us what she's thinking or feeling. We never know what her life is like to her. It's aggravating, but brilliant. That forces us to stare at this character intently, looking for any clues. What is she really thinking? How is she doing? We have small, minuscule insights through her actions, but we never really know. She's often inscrutable. We've spent so much time with her as the film nears the end- we feel like she know her intimately and yet, not at all.

I can't give enough credit to Delphine Seyrig. I can't imagine what she was thinking playing this role. She carries the entire film. Somehow, she manages to make the most mundane details seem at least somewhat interesting. I remember exactly how she makes meatloaf. I remember wanting to scream at her to finish already, but every mannerism of hers is closely watched by the audience and the things she does feel engaging. Her performance is reserved and often stoic, but she does small things throughout the film to hint that there's more to this woman than we might expect. Her performance was remarkable. Jan Decorte was good as her son. I disliked the character, but he did make us feel something when we watch him. At the end of the movie, we certainly wonder desperately what he's going to think and do. But again, I can't say enough about how Seyrig holds our attention while doing the most mundane tasks imaginable. One of the highlights is the scene where she's drinking coffee. She almost looks at the camera and we want her to, to connect with this character, to understand her. It's an exceptional physical performance that conveys so much without her saying a single word. It's brilliant.

What's funny is that all these minor chores and regular aspects of living eventually build up to a crescendo. It felt like it was going in a specific direction and I had a few guesses of what the big moment would be. You can sense Jeanne's growing silent desperation and you realize it'll eventually need an outlet. When the moment comes, though, it didn't feel as shocking as I expected. It feels almost like a sense of relief, she did something out of the ordinary. But, there was also a sadness. We've seen people do this in movies before. It was almost like Jeanne cheapened herself in this act by making the movie more mainstream. Then, immediately, we have questions. Why? What led to this point? What is she going to do next? And, of course, Akerman won't give us answers. We're left scrutinizing this woman's face. It's been almost 3.5 hours and I felt more sadness about letting her go than relief that the movie was over. I never expected that to be the case.

So, I have to admit, I loved Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles. Do I think it's the greatest movie of all time, or even among the top tier of great movies? No way. It's certainly a "one and done" film - there's not a ton of desire to sit through this again. But, it's a great film. A brilliant film. An example of a courageous young woman who made a movie that never should have been made. A quiet film, a slow, agonizingly slow boil of a movie that says almost nothing, yet says so much about the life of contemporary women, crushed under an onslaught of mundane moments, that the message that comes from the silence of this film is almost deafening. Chantal Akerman crafted an all-time great film with Jeanne Dielman and I appreciate Sight and Sound for encouraging me to watch it.

Rating 1-10
Tim's Rating: 8



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