Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (The Criterion Collection)

Long, real, not for everybody. Mesmerizing.

I was uncertain of where the movie was going, but still drawn to watching this woman go through the motions of her life. Maybe I was hoping she would show some emotion at some point. Over time, it became clear the movie was building toward something and, despite its length and the confines of a small apartment, it was mesmerizing.

This is feminist film directed by a woman - Claire Ackerman. Its long title is a warning to those who don't already know that it's over 3 hours long. You can learn something of its structure from a Wiki article. There are 3 acts. The first shows the routine life of a single mother who has a few regular sex clients who enable her to pay her bills. Was that one of the few options for a single mother in Brussels in 1975? It was in the first part of the 18th century in France: prostitution, writing, or menial work were the few choices then. The second act shows Jeanne D becoming somewhat unsettled. The third shows her more unsettled, and a sex scene is on camera for the first time, with an unexpected ending. The film makes a statement, but demands a great deal of patience from the viewer. It uses static cameras, but so did Yasuhiro Ozu. As a caregiver, I happen to do a lot of housework, but I look for more visual interest in a film, and a story with more drama than this one - but I found it worth watching.

The real achievement of this undeniably long movie is to make the passage of time deeply felt. This is anti-drama, but that is also, very simply, the stuff of our daily lives. Jeanne washes dishes. She peels potatoes. She puts silverware away. She does a little prostitution (full well as noteworthy-or not-as anything else she does). She shops. She knits. She goes to the post office. When she repeats some of these things during a second day, it feels like that much time has passed. We are drawn into labyrthine minutiae of her daily life, of her functioning humanity. This is the cinematic experience of all those days and all that time you have lived but don’t remember, those forgettable Tuesdays and Wednesdays from many years ago that are utterly forgotten and absolutely gone.

Chantal Akerman's masterwork this is also her most well known film, fascinating, simply presented, and extremely effective. A definitive example of playing the long game at building atmosphere, for over 3 hours we are voyeurs into several days in the life of a Brussels widow, Jeanne Dielman, played by Delphine Seyrig (best known for her memorable role in The Discreet Charm Of The Bourgeoisie). She is excellent, her expressions of ennui are priceless. Shown in slowly paced, nearly static vignettes with no music and given the illusion of real-time, we watch the tedium as she washes the dishes, peels potatoes, folds laundry, enjoys a sandwich, drinks a cup of coffee, helps her teenage son with his schoolwork, prepares Wednesday's veal cutlets, ...and prostitutes herself -until a seemingly insignificant disruption in her rigid routine leads to a truly shocking conclusion. The monotony brilliantly never speeds up, but the mood shifts from the mundane over to foreboding, and it's like a rubberband stretching and about to snap. Feminist Akerman's intelligent philosophical statement is shrewdly built into the film's structure, and for such a bold work, at times her points are beautifully subtle. Jeanne's self-imposed imprisonment of domesticity is not made blatantly obvious to us until well into the film and we have become empathic with her, the film's excessive length is essential to affect. This film does require a great deal of patience, but is poignant and memorable, it also works as character study or social commentary. Best suited for those that can appreciate the works of Robert Bresson, Andrei Tarkovsky, and especially Jacques Rivette. This Criterion Collection Blu Ray also includes a documentary, interviews, a short film, and a very smart essay.

wanted to watch this film, but did not work on my TV and I could not figure out why. aw well...

Gird your loins on this one; it's a beast, a marathon to sit through, but if you skip ahead you will miss one of the most carefully wrought and frighteningly beautiful performances you will ever see. Clearly a film made by women. There is no 'flash-bang' moment, no impatient eye. This film's force lay in the patient, insidious unspooling of terror-- a mythic and bloody silence.

Un chef d'oeuvre cinématographique. Dure plus de 3 heures. Passionnant. Intemporel. Collector. Film rare.

This is not a run-of-the-mill, standard, conventional movie. Not at all! We watch a single mother living with her teen-age son in a small apartment, doing her daily chores. In the afternoons, we see her serving clients in her bedroom. Without a background music and hardly any conversations, this routine continues three consecutive days and we observe this most unusual story three-hours-and-twenty-one minutes. The woman is Delphine Seyrig and she is absolutely fabulous in this very demanding role. She is on the screen constantly; she lives --and displays-- the life of Jeanne Dielman, the leading character, incredibly well. The director of the film is a twenty-five-year-old Chantal Akerman and she proves that she would become an outstanding cineast at an early age. Thanks to Criterion, we now have a great re-mastered copy of this 1975 production.This is a gem. This is a remarkable work-of-art. Do not miss it!

C'est un film de collection.

Pourquoi sur l'étiquette avoir inscrit Chef d'œuvre au féminin ? Chef d'œuvre eut suffit.C'est sans aucun doute un film qui marque l'histoire du cinéma."Description obsédante et en temps réel de l'aliénattion", c'est bien de cela dont il s'agit.78 mn, c'est long mais sans doute à peine suffisant pour entrer dans la tête de Delphine Seyrig.Un film qui pousse à aller voir les autres films de Chantal Akerman

This film problematizes the voyeurism of cinema by pushing it to an extreme. Its humour is subtle, hidden in the apparently boring and implicitly sad daily living of Jeanne Dielman.