Our Favorites
& How to Watch Them:
Chantal Akerman
Art by Charley Aldridge (@charleyaldridge)
Narrative Films:
Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975): Delphine Seyrig plays a widowed housewife who does chores in real time in front of you and has paid sex behind closed doors. It’s a film that teaches us that long takes can give weight to characters’ lives like nothing else and that prostitutes can wear cardigans. And look, if you can’t hang with slow European cinema, go ahead and skip it. But if you self-identify as a film nerd and haven’t seen this movie, please stop embarrassing yourself and get the DVD on Criterion or sign up for Filmstruck.
Je Tu Il Elle (1974): Chantal Akerman plays the lead character here and eats a ton of granulated sugar from a spoon and then scissors possibly more than anyone has ever scissored on film before (yes, including Blue is the Warmest Color). There’s not a ton in the way of plot, but I would hope that sugar and scissoring would sell you on it.
Documentaries:
News From Home (1977): If you’ve ever loved New York, what are you even doing right now if you’re not watching this movie? And if you’ve ever loved walks, I’ll ask you the same question. It’s peak Chantal Akerman: all long takes and voiceover as Akerman reads letters from her mother over shots of her favorite walking spots in New York.
No Home Movie (2015): I’ll be honest: this is a rough one. Not only is it a documentary about conversations between Akerman and her mother (an Auschwitz survivor) that took place right before her mother’s death, it’s also the last film Akerman made before taking her own life. But if you can set aside some post-movie decompression time, it’s pretty close to a masterpiece and more than worth the amount you’re going to cry watching it.
Chantal Akerman
Dearest Chantal Akerman,
The Village Voice said you were “arguably the most important European filmmaker” of your generation because the Village Voice never read that Stephen King book about how adverbs make you a pussy. So let’s take out the “arguably” and speak in declarative sentences: Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles is a motherfucking masterpiece. What you show onscreen is the stuff every other movie leaves out. The coffee making. The potato peeling. The soup eating. The blouse buttoning after paid sex with gentlemen callers. You know, boring mom stuff. But if anyone knows how to make boring work, Chantal, it’s you. Because when Jeanne’s routine starts to falter in microscopic increments, it’s one of the best tension building sequences in cinematic history. Bonus props for the calmest murder-by-a-domestic-object since that Alfred Hitchcock Presents lady killed her husband with a leg of lamb then fed it to the cops. Also-- it’s insanely inspiring that you made this movie when you were only 24 years old. And your origin story as a film school dropout who funded her first film Saute Ma Ville by trading diamond shares on the Antwerp stock exchange is the most badass of all time. Blessed were the years before Kickstarter, eh, Chantal?
And look, I’d end this letter here but it seems important to tell you (I assume you receive love letters in the afterlife) that a casual dropped reference to Jeanne Dielman on the second day of a new job instantly united two co-workers like hanky code but for feminist film nerd friendships. Within a month they turned their office into a ball pit and within a year they founded this site together. So thank you, Chantal, for being the queen of both the long take and of our hearts.