Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles
The worst thing that you can do to something is to describe it as being "good for you". Immediately, you begin to draw conclusions that such a thing is unpalatable, or comes with a cost that doesn't feel like it outweighs the benefits. This usually suggests that despite your suffering, you should still end up richer for having endured it..."should" being key here. This was the unfortunate thought that pounded away at my brain as I endured Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles.
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Jeanne Dielman (for short) was recently voted "The Greatest Film of All Time" in the Sight and Sound poll--held every ten years--and after having watched this movie, I have never been more convinced that such an assessment is total claptrap. In the past, I have found the poll (and other sources like it) to be great places to discover new movies. It's a way to get exposure to something that would otherwise never have brought to my attention with today's oversaturation of a few blockbusters at the expense of classics and underappreciated gems. So I went into watching this film with an open mind, eagerly expecting to gain some insight into what makes this movie so beloved. I admit, I was intrigued at first at the mundanity of the eponymous Jeanne's (Delphine Seyrig) everyday routine, which surprisingly included a visitation by a man soliciting her for prostitution, handled with a total absence of eroticism. (This is decidedly not a part of most people's everyday routine, unless you are a French/Belgian housewife in a pretentious art movie, it seems.) I was also excited to see another film with Seyrig; one of my favorite movies is Last Year at Marienbad. I even enjoyed (to a point) the claustrophobia-inducing shots of the apartment as she marches from room to room, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor, constantly turning lights on and off, opening and closing windows, boiling potatoes. All of this is fine. In fact, it's intriguing...for about fifteen minutes, and that's being generous. Jeanne Dielman is over three hours long, and it never...never accelerates its pace. This isn't a movie; this is climbing Mount Everest, and not in the sense that you feel any achievement afterward. No, it feels like a soul-crushing endurance match. I get it--it's meant to put you into the headspace of this widowed mother who struggles to keep food on the table and keep their Belgian walkup apartment ship shape. Jeanne Dielman is effective in creating a smothering sense of imprisonment and showcasing a Sisyphean kind of futility at repeating these chores over and over and over again. But I would argue that writer/director Chantal Akerman is so fixated on this theme that it becomes borderline hostile toward its audience. I'm sure that much has been said about Seyrig's nuanced performance--and we are stuck with her the whole time--but I often find that people who fixate on the performance of an actor do so to gloss over the other flaws in a movie. And baby, insufferable boredom is a big problem with Jeanne Dielman.
Watching the film, I was left wanting for little moments to break up Jeanne's day, to shatter the monotony...as I'm sure it is with our protagonist. When her son, Sylvain (Jan Decorte), comes home from school (late in the evening), they eat in almost dead silence. Afterward, they go...somewhere, but the film (for some inexplicable reason) doesn't feel like sharing where they go. We just cut to them coming back into the vestibule of the apartment building and waiting (and waiting) for the elevator to come down to take them back up to their apartment. And (technically speaking) these nighttime shots are of such poor quality that I couldn't even tell what was happening during them, so maybe that's part of the problem. But rather than nitpick the technical gaffs of Jeanne Dielman (which matter far less than the profound void that exists where its story should be), let's consider what we know about this ceaselessly toiling mother? Much of this has to be inferred in between the tedium of the three days we spend with her, but here's my take. We know that her husband died six years earlier, and as she suggests to her son while tucking him into the foldaway bed in their couch, she probably didn't love him. In fact, she probably wasn't even attracted to him. It seems more likely that she was pushed into marrying him at the behest of a couple of her aunts just because he had a nice job...until he didn't. The apartment in which Jeanne and Sylvain reside doesn't seem like it was picked out with a family in mind. After all, why would Sylvain be forced to make the living room his bedroom otherwise? In all likelihood, Jeanne and Sylvain were forced to vacate their old residence and move into this smaller flat after Jeanne's husband died due to financial troubles. That would explain the odd juxtaposition of the apartment's crummy kitchen with some comparably nice furnishings. Jeanne tells Sylvain that she doesn't want to "get used to" someone else, hence why she has not remarried. In truth, I believe that she resents this life, and that she feels that seeking a man to support them would not only be futile, but might dig her in deeper than she already is.
Jeanne Dielman has been regarded as a "feminist" movie presumably because it suggests that Jeanne--being a woman, and all--lacks opportunities for financial security without a man in this society, so she is forced to resort to prostitution. That's hokum, plain and simple. What proves it? Consider that there are other women in the movie--the grocer, for example, who sells her potatoes--who work and no doubt get along just fine, or at least as well as any of us. What I believe the real problem for Jeanne is comes from her overly rigid need to stick to a standard of living to which she has become accustomed. Jeanne is so regimented in her behavior that one little upset throws everything out of whack, and leaves her looking bedraggled. In the second day, after her second "customer" leaves, her almost always perfectly kept hair is a mess, and not due to amorous activity. She discovers that she boiled her potatoes for dinner for too long, and that she must go to the store to procure more. It's already late by the time she gets home, and she's still peeling them by the time Sylvain arrives. They have a late supper, and even he--who is usually absorbed in his homework--comments that she looks tired. Sylvain seems like a nice enough young man, but Jeanne takes on every single aspect of domesticity for herself. (Really, dear, he can shine his own shoes.) She is too proud, and rather than ask for help, she carves off more and more of herself...just so she doesn't have to admit that sometimes, everybody needs someone. This leads into how she makes money, by providing a "service" to others. In addition to watching a baby for an hour, she meets with a different man every day. Certainly there are other ways that she could make money, but she finds that it pays well enough--and doesn't take that long--so that she can still run the house and keep things neat and orderly. She makes no concessions, nor does she ask for help. I doubt she's ever bothered to even try to seek other employment. Deep down, Jeanne longs for that normalcy of married life, and she will have it even if she has to do everything by herself. (And you can guess how that ends for her.) I think that Jeanne--who has struggled to keep the status quo for the last six years--starts to lose control of her domestic routine after she returns home from having a cup of coffee in a café. She sits in a spot by the door and smiles, and a server automatically brings her the coffee with two sugar cubes. You can tell that this is a regular ritual for Jeanne. She looks off into the street as she savors her coffee. Does her mind wander? Does it wander to thoughts of better days? I think so. That sweet cup of java is far better than what she keeps in a thermos back home in her lousy kitchen and drinks lukewarm with some milk. For her, this isn't really living anymore--it's just treading water. And after, everything sours. Anything would be better than this.
So you might be thinking, "actually, this sounds like a pretty appealing character study and analysis of the flaws in becoming too fixated on our creature comforts instead of living life to its fullest". Fair enough; except...this doesn't change the simple, absolute fact that Jeanne Dielman is a boring movie. I mean, go ahead and have a movie night with your friends and show this dreary snoozefest. I dare you! Take bets on who the first will be to politely make an excuse an hour or so into the movie, saying that they have to get up early tomorrow, and, oh, next time they'll pick the movie. So when I consider exactly how this movie was voted the "Number One" movie by critics, filmmakers, et cetera, I call shenanigans. Many have accused Sight and Sound of stacking the votes by picking voters who would choose the best movies solely for political reasons, just to dethrone a legacy heretofore dominated by "white men". Look, I don't want to make this political, but to quote a famous retort oft employed on playgrounds since time immemorial, "they started it". There are only three kinds of people who would have voted Jeanne Dielman as anything other than Most Boring Film Ever: people with a social justice agenda, fools, or people who actually hate movies. I am all about disagreement, sure. I've seen movies I disliked and chatted away with friends about them and welcomed their input. Opening lines of dialogue between movie lovers is crucial to not just understanding different points of view, but more importantly, the people who hold them. But this movie is held up on a pedestal and I believe that it is just another iteration of "The Emperor's New Clothes". Somebody somewhere with clout espoused its "virtues", so everyone else hops on the bandwagon rather than be left in the dust. (The things we do to be accepted by others...) But if that bandwagon is Jeanne Dielman, don't bother holding a seat for me; I'll wait for the next one. I'm sure it'll get me to where I want to be a heck of a lot faster.
Recommended for: People who like to watch paint dry. No, really, I can't recommend this film to anyone who watches movies seriously (yes, I mean that), because at the end of the day, movies are entertainment first. And, no, I was not entertained by Jeanne Dielman. On the plus side, it's a sure fire cure for insomnia, so bring a blanket if someone inflicts this upon you.
Watching the film, I was left wanting for little moments to break up Jeanne's day, to shatter the monotony...as I'm sure it is with our protagonist. When her son, Sylvain (Jan Decorte), comes home from school (late in the evening), they eat in almost dead silence. Afterward, they go...somewhere, but the film (for some inexplicable reason) doesn't feel like sharing where they go. We just cut to them coming back into the vestibule of the apartment building and waiting (and waiting) for the elevator to come down to take them back up to their apartment. And (technically speaking) these nighttime shots are of such poor quality that I couldn't even tell what was happening during them, so maybe that's part of the problem. But rather than nitpick the technical gaffs of Jeanne Dielman (which matter far less than the profound void that exists where its story should be), let's consider what we know about this ceaselessly toiling mother? Much of this has to be inferred in between the tedium of the three days we spend with her, but here's my take. We know that her husband died six years earlier, and as she suggests to her son while tucking him into the foldaway bed in their couch, she probably didn't love him. In fact, she probably wasn't even attracted to him. It seems more likely that she was pushed into marrying him at the behest of a couple of her aunts just because he had a nice job...until he didn't. The apartment in which Jeanne and Sylvain reside doesn't seem like it was picked out with a family in mind. After all, why would Sylvain be forced to make the living room his bedroom otherwise? In all likelihood, Jeanne and Sylvain were forced to vacate their old residence and move into this smaller flat after Jeanne's husband died due to financial troubles. That would explain the odd juxtaposition of the apartment's crummy kitchen with some comparably nice furnishings. Jeanne tells Sylvain that she doesn't want to "get used to" someone else, hence why she has not remarried. In truth, I believe that she resents this life, and that she feels that seeking a man to support them would not only be futile, but might dig her in deeper than she already is.
Jeanne Dielman has been regarded as a "feminist" movie presumably because it suggests that Jeanne--being a woman, and all--lacks opportunities for financial security without a man in this society, so she is forced to resort to prostitution. That's hokum, plain and simple. What proves it? Consider that there are other women in the movie--the grocer, for example, who sells her potatoes--who work and no doubt get along just fine, or at least as well as any of us. What I believe the real problem for Jeanne is comes from her overly rigid need to stick to a standard of living to which she has become accustomed. Jeanne is so regimented in her behavior that one little upset throws everything out of whack, and leaves her looking bedraggled. In the second day, after her second "customer" leaves, her almost always perfectly kept hair is a mess, and not due to amorous activity. She discovers that she boiled her potatoes for dinner for too long, and that she must go to the store to procure more. It's already late by the time she gets home, and she's still peeling them by the time Sylvain arrives. They have a late supper, and even he--who is usually absorbed in his homework--comments that she looks tired. Sylvain seems like a nice enough young man, but Jeanne takes on every single aspect of domesticity for herself. (Really, dear, he can shine his own shoes.) She is too proud, and rather than ask for help, she carves off more and more of herself...just so she doesn't have to admit that sometimes, everybody needs someone. This leads into how she makes money, by providing a "service" to others. In addition to watching a baby for an hour, she meets with a different man every day. Certainly there are other ways that she could make money, but she finds that it pays well enough--and doesn't take that long--so that she can still run the house and keep things neat and orderly. She makes no concessions, nor does she ask for help. I doubt she's ever bothered to even try to seek other employment. Deep down, Jeanne longs for that normalcy of married life, and she will have it even if she has to do everything by herself. (And you can guess how that ends for her.) I think that Jeanne--who has struggled to keep the status quo for the last six years--starts to lose control of her domestic routine after she returns home from having a cup of coffee in a café. She sits in a spot by the door and smiles, and a server automatically brings her the coffee with two sugar cubes. You can tell that this is a regular ritual for Jeanne. She looks off into the street as she savors her coffee. Does her mind wander? Does it wander to thoughts of better days? I think so. That sweet cup of java is far better than what she keeps in a thermos back home in her lousy kitchen and drinks lukewarm with some milk. For her, this isn't really living anymore--it's just treading water. And after, everything sours. Anything would be better than this.
So you might be thinking, "actually, this sounds like a pretty appealing character study and analysis of the flaws in becoming too fixated on our creature comforts instead of living life to its fullest". Fair enough; except...this doesn't change the simple, absolute fact that Jeanne Dielman is a boring movie. I mean, go ahead and have a movie night with your friends and show this dreary snoozefest. I dare you! Take bets on who the first will be to politely make an excuse an hour or so into the movie, saying that they have to get up early tomorrow, and, oh, next time they'll pick the movie. So when I consider exactly how this movie was voted the "Number One" movie by critics, filmmakers, et cetera, I call shenanigans. Many have accused Sight and Sound of stacking the votes by picking voters who would choose the best movies solely for political reasons, just to dethrone a legacy heretofore dominated by "white men". Look, I don't want to make this political, but to quote a famous retort oft employed on playgrounds since time immemorial, "they started it". There are only three kinds of people who would have voted Jeanne Dielman as anything other than Most Boring Film Ever: people with a social justice agenda, fools, or people who actually hate movies. I am all about disagreement, sure. I've seen movies I disliked and chatted away with friends about them and welcomed their input. Opening lines of dialogue between movie lovers is crucial to not just understanding different points of view, but more importantly, the people who hold them. But this movie is held up on a pedestal and I believe that it is just another iteration of "The Emperor's New Clothes". Somebody somewhere with clout espoused its "virtues", so everyone else hops on the bandwagon rather than be left in the dust. (The things we do to be accepted by others...) But if that bandwagon is Jeanne Dielman, don't bother holding a seat for me; I'll wait for the next one. I'm sure it'll get me to where I want to be a heck of a lot faster.
Recommended for: People who like to watch paint dry. No, really, I can't recommend this film to anyone who watches movies seriously (yes, I mean that), because at the end of the day, movies are entertainment first. And, no, I was not entertained by Jeanne Dielman. On the plus side, it's a sure fire cure for insomnia, so bring a blanket if someone inflicts this upon you.