Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, Chantel Akerman (1975)

This film is a study of the domestic imprisonment ascribed to “angel in the house” femininity. This three hour film depicts, in excruciatingly realistic time, the routines of Jeanne Dielman, a seemingly pin-straight middle class Belgian mother living in and maintaining a pin-straight household. The film mostly depicts what would be the “off camera” moments of any other film and seems to barely skim the surface of the more fascinating aspects of Jeanne’s life. While it becomes exceedingly clear throughout the film that Jeanne is a secret prostitute, the film remains focused on the dull domestic rituals which define her. The vast majority of the film illustrates (always with static medium shots and incredibly long takes) Jeanne’s obsessive attention to cleanliness, perfection and a number frivolous tasks (the daily shining of her son’s shoes, the smoothing of bed linens, the folding of pajamas, etc.). The frivolity of Jeanne’s routine reflects the frivolity of her life in general.
The physical space of Jeanne’s apartment seems to be also symbolic of her own life and mind. What appears quaint, pretty, and fresh can at once appear dark, uncanny, empty, and menacing. Jeanne’s home seems to reflect her own consciousness, which is riddled with a shameful secret and dissatisfaction. At times Jeanne seems to be cleansing her home as a way to cleanse herself of the days “sinful” encounters and exchanges. The most eerie example of this occurs in the first ten minutes in the film, when Jeanne, crouching naked in the tub, washes both her own body and the basin with the same sponge, thus signifying her affinity and resemblance to the house. In this way, the house is simultaneously a prison, a shrine, and even an extension of Jeanne’s physical body.
All throughout my viewing of the film, I found myself anticipating some kind of emotional breakdown on the part of the protagonist—a fit of rage, tears, violence, anything! Jeanne’s nerves deteriorate much more subtly and tragically. She burns overcooked potatoes, she drops silverware on the floor, and just barely begins to fray at the edges. When Jeanne stabs the last man she has sex with, it is the apex of her frustration and it is the manifestation of all the built up tension in her existence. It is interesting that she takes her frustration out on the male figure, as if to reprimand the patriarchal construct that has placed her in this opressive life.