- Release year: 1975
- Director: Chantal Akerman.
- Producers: Guy Cavagnac, Alain Dahan, Liliane de Kermadec, Corinne Jénart, Evelyne Paul and Paul Vecchiali.
- Screenplay by: Chantal Akerman.
- Cinematography by: Babette Mangolte.
Synopsis: a woman goes about her life doing house chores, taking care of her kid, and working both as a prostitute and a nanny.
Shotgun Commentary: the perfect example of why jump cuts exist in cinema.

(Chantal Akerman, 1975).
Review
Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles is a hard watch, let’s not kid ourselves. It is the type of film that makes your friends smoke-bomb out of your sight when you say the words “independent cinema”. Much like Bogancloch (2024), this film explores isolation in the most challenging way possible. Challenging for the spectators that have to sit through almost three and a half hours of footage, that is. Still, Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles has something the aforementioned movie does not: a point.
Being boring
Hard as it is to watch due to its length and lack of stimuli, this film actually explores women’s lives in a harsh, but fair, way. Maybe one of the most respectful ways possible, actually, as it showcases the unadulterated truth of a housewife’s life. Instead of editing out the “boring bits”, they are highlighted, showcased with as much emphasis as any adventure might be. Granted, this makes for an incredibly slow, almost static, narrative. Nevetheless, it also serves to get you in the mood for the narrative that is being told.
Throughout the feature, you follow Jeanne (Delphine Seyrig). She is a single mother, a prostitute, and a nanny, who goes on about her life emotionless. Her automatic motions void of any interest or excitement. Her routine is slowly asphyxiating her until she does something to relieve her despair. Something that brings her a short moment of joy. Sadly, this joy is short-lived. Much like alcohol or drugs, it serves as a momentary relief, but does nothing to solve the real issue: the drowning routine that awaits her.
Lady in red
The bleakness of the text is perfectly reflected through the colour palettes used in each scene. Tired browns and worn-out yellows dominate her existence. Only pale reds and decaying greens try to provide some contrast, managing only to turn her environment into an uninviting mixture of depressing hues that only serves to remind her of the prison that is her role in the patriarchy.

(Chantal Akerman, 1975).
The outside does provide some mild comfort, as does the baby she takes care of from time to time. These are the only instances where bright, intense reds and pinks appear on-screen. The only other moment where a bright red can be seen is at the end, after Jeanne’s desperate attempt to break free from her metaphorical cage. The small amount of bright red against the suffocating darkness of her drained living room being the perfect metaphor for that futile attempt to break away from a societal role she hates, but is ultimately forced to accept.
Alone again, naturally
One of the main characteristics of Jeanne’s routine is her solitude. She barely talks to people, much less about anything meaningful or personal, which deepens the feeling of isolation only a prison cell can offer. The person she spends the most time with, her son Sylvain (Jan Decorte), seems to have an autism spectrum disorder, which makes connecting with him all the more difficult. As such, she spends her life virtually alone, going through the motions of her day in a completely disassociated state.
Now, there is nothing wrong with being alone. However, when your life is spent doing chores you hate, and you have no one to rant to and nothing to look forward to, you might find yourself doing the same thing Jeanne does, just for the sake of feeling something.

(Chantal Akerman, 1975).
All in all, Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, is a love letter to all those who have gone unseen their whole lives, mothers whose children don’t even bother taking into consideration in their life stories, women who are merely seen as cleaners, cooks, teachers… tools to be used without any regard for their feelings or mental state. Did you find this film lethargic, depressing and maddening? Good, now you’ve got a taste of the life most women have been, and still are, forced to live merely due to their gender.
BFI Distribution re-releases a 2K restoration of Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, in UK cinemas on 7 February 2025 coinciding with a (near) complete retrospective season of Chantal Akerman’s films at BFI Southbank, ‘Chantal Akerman: Adventures in Perception’, throughout February and March.
A UK cinema touring package of further Akerman titles including Je tu il elle (1974), News from Home (1976), Les Rendez-vous d’Anna (1978), Golden Eighties (1986), and La Captive (2000) will also screen at partner venues across the UK, including Ciné Lumière, Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA) and Glasgow Film Theatre (GFT).
Advice to take from this movie:
- Never let society tell you who you are and what you can or can’t do.
- Never order impulsively at the butchers.
- Never underestimate women.

(Chantal Akerman, 1975).
What’s your take? Have you watched Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles? Don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts in the comments section below, or leave a message in my contact page! For more reviews and cinema-related articles, check out the rest of my blog! 😀
