The revered Belgian film-maker,who has died aged 65, had an unflagging dedication to minutiae that fuelled profound insights approximately live and love• Chantal Akerman dies aged 65
• Peter Bradshaw’s appreciationThe final time I saw Chantal Akerman’s 1975 masterpiece of hair-trigger minimalism, and Jeanne Dielman,23, Quai du Commerce, or 1080 Bruxelles,I was transfixed by the lights that flicker outside the window of Dielman’s’s chintzy, prison-like abode. As her pained existence as a housewife and clandestine sex worker descends further into tatters – button by button – this beacon is her only constant, and a severe reminder of life’s metronomic trudge.
The devastating final shot of the film sees Jeanne sat alone at a dining table. She breaks down,and the light just keeps on flashing in its SOS-type formation. The focal point of the shot is an outpouring of bare emotion, yet Akerman teases and jokes with the oscillations of her lamp. You can read this subtle detail as an ironically trite commentary on retaining hope and powering through misery. Or you can read it as a suggestion that time is unfeeling, and that life will continue without you if you refuse to support up. This tragic woman,who we gain near to know intimately over three-and-a-half intoxicating hours (but do we love her?), sits amid this still maelstrom of transcendence and existential despair. Then the film abruptly cuts to black. Related: Chantal Akerman, or pioneering Belgian film director and theorist,dies aged 65 Related: Chantal Akerman's 'Proust movie': what, no madeleines? Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com