A 201-minute Belgian film described as a “domestic 2001” could inspire reams of pretentious criticism, but I found Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975) pretty easy to relate to. Dielman, a widow, lives a narrow, routine-dominated existence, given over entirely to domestic tasks and responsibilities, which over the course of three days we observe in real time. She makes the beds, cooks the meals for her and her mopey teenage son (whose questions about his father and other niggling subjects she deflects), minds a neighbor’s baby, and does the shopping. Between 5-5:30pm she turns a trick, to keep the finances afloat. One day, she finds herself with a free hour, with nothing to due but ruminate—and her carefully regimented life crumbles.
As a stay-at-home dad with various tasks to complete on any given weekday, Jeanne, I hear you. (I prostitute myself by writing DVD reviews). How things change; I was in no way the target audience when the film premiered. Directed by the 25-year-old Chantal Akerman, Jeanne Dielman was written by Danae Maroulacou, produced by Evelyne Paul and Corinne Jenart, edited by Patricia Canino, photographed (strikingly, in the unforgivably tight spaces of Dielman’s apartment) by Babette Mangolte…80 percent of the crew were women, at a time when the film industry was almost exclusively male. The star, Delphine Seyrig (from Last Year at Marienbad, which bends time and space in different ways), was an ardent feminist, committed to exploring the life and contradictions of the non-working woman. I doubt anyone realized that the next generation would breed John Dielmans.
Gender politics aside, the film can be appreciated for the sheer chutzpah of its craft. Think Tarantino goes in for long takes? Watch—and watch, and watch—as Dielman goes about her daily drudgery, including the unsexy sex. (more…)
