Here’s a five-Blu-ray box set looking at the early work of Brussels-born director Chantal Akerman, who is seen as an important female director, as well as a key figure in European arthouse cinema.  Over a nearly fifty-year period, she directed forty films (short, medium and feature-length)- these spanned fiction, documentary, musical comedy and literary adaptation. Her work is often very personal, with feminist and LGBTQ+ leanings. The set focuses on the years 1967 and 1978, taking in fourteen films, new commentary tracks, and a selection of largely archive-based extras.

On disc one, we have a selection of earlier, shorter films.  These go from INSAS Entrance exam films (19.00). These take in four 8mm silent films from 1967, which, as their joint title suggests, were films made by Akerman to get into INSAS- a film/ drama school in Brussel.  The first film takes in fairground footage, moving from twisting ‘n’ turning rides, lines of strong men, and food stalls. The second film sees two women get out of a car in the driveway of a large house- a little dog comes out and barks in the courtyard. This is followed by the same woman brushing their hair inside the house, walking down a street, and washing up again in the house. Film three regards people looking in shop windows, and clothes shopping. The last film is set at the seaside- we see several grand/ fast cars pulling up and women looking them over. And women try on and shop for shoes. As a group of films, these are certainly interesting, showing how Akerman is developing.

Next is Saute ma ville (13.12). This is a 1968 art film regarding a troubled/unbalanced woman living in a tower block, with the whole thing soundtracked by a mix of wavering ‘n’ wonky female vocalising, and overload sound effects.  The film opens with rapidly cut-off /angle shots of tower blocks- then we see an unnamed woman shambling into one of the blocks, clutching a bunch of flowers. The lifts don’t work, so she rushes up many flights of steps, as the lift decides to start work, chasing her pace up the stairs.  She gets to her apartment to perform a series of rational (preparing food, cleaning) and irrational (tapping up the kitchen door, rubbing shoe polish on her legs). This is a great manic & often unhinged short, with a very grim/ downbeat resolve.

L’Enfant aime ou Je joue à être une Femme Mariée (32.00) This is a 1971 film focusing on a young mother, the narrative is more traditional/ less arty, than what we’ve seen so far on the boxset.  It opens with the young mother taking the washing off a line in a rural garden. As we move on, her young daughter helps her mother get dressed. She talks about sex with her girlfriend on her bed. She sits on a porch on a warm day with her daughter.  She smokes with her friend inside and prepares food.

La Chambre (11.05) This 1972 short is built around a series of 360° circular panoramic shots of a one-room apartment- moving slowly from the kitchen area, to table and chair, to a bed- which sees a woman in various positions- she first looks slightly troubled, then later is investigating some fruit.  The shots take several go around the apartment, then a few shorter shots between the front door and the back of the bed. Technically is quite impressive with the steady shot use, and the whole thing is quite entrancing. The film is silent.

Hotel Monterey is a silent documentary from 1973. It runs at the one-hour and five-minute mark, and it’s a visual study of the titled New York Hotel, where the poor and outcast people of the city live.

The film has a satisfying symmetry and shape. We begin in the black-and-white checkerboard floor reception, starting with a set shot of the reception check-in window, through to the seating area where cigarette-smoking figures hunch, and the grey-lit room itself.

We then move into the hotel lift- going up and down the floors several times- we stop ever so often with either people stepping in, looking awkward in the hallways, or shaking their hands. Next, we shift into some of the rooms with their cheap bedding & stark furnishing- first the rooms are shown people-less, then with hunched/down face figures in the bedroom chairs or sitting on the bed.

As we progress, we get shots of lonely and stark hotel corridors, before shots of the outside of the hotel. Each shot is fixed and fairly lingering, but as with all of Akerman's work, you have to slow down to its pace, to really get what’s on offer here. So, it’s a worthwhile study of the building and its patrons, and for those who enjoy people watching, you do get to ponder some of the characters' lives lived.

Finally, on disc one, we have 1973 Hanging Out Yonkers (26.00). It's a soundless film, which was apparently commissioned as a documentary regarding social services dealing with the reintegration of young offenders and drug addicts in New York. The footage moves from in-the-round discussions and pool playing. It’s filmed well enough, though due to the lack of sound, is a little dull- it’s nice to have it here for completion sake, but it’s not something I’d watch again.

Extras-wise, on this disc we have a new commentary track on Saute ma ville by So Mayer and Selina Robertson- which is most informative, with some worthwhile observations. We find out that Chantal was creating the vocalising score for the film, and it was made for her then-girlfriend, Claire.  The film was shot in one night, and was done as a response after she quit film school, to show she could still make a film.  It was shot in the director's apartment. They point out/ comment on things in the background of scenes, and the use of layered sound in the film. They discuss how the film has a rather proto-punk feel.  Though the film itself is short, the pair cram in a lot- so it’s worth a play.

The second disc takes in two films: 1972’s Le 15/8, which I guess is best described as a longer short, and 1975’s feature Je Tu Il Elle ( aka I, You, He, She) , which was Akerman's first formal narrative film.

So first we Le 15/8, which runs at forty-three minutes. It’s set in an apartment in Paris- visual focusing on women in her mid-twenties to mid-thirties- she wears a tied-at-the-back summer dress and has a curly bob haircut. The film is shot in a sort of hazy black and white, with a monologue of a European woman speaking in English- she has a rumbling, singsong, at times uncertain voice. The film opens with a set shot looking out from a wardrobe onto a small table with the woman sitting at- she first talks about sitting and smoking in the kitchen, uncertain about going outside, and things she is fearful of. The first half of the film presents us with a blend of flitting nervousness, dull unease, and a desire to get comfy. But as we move into the second half, her ponderings become more hopeful/ brighter- as she talks about music she likes, and how she enjoys the sound of rain and thunder.  Some of the actions/ looks she gives don’t quite fit the talking/ tone, but largely they do, and it’s largely another effective character study- that, for a change, resolves fairly positively/ lightly thoughtful.

From 1975 Je Tu Il Elle ( aka I, You, He, She) and it features Akerman in the lead role. The one-hour and twenty-six-minute film is a blend of art film, and, rather, I’m afraid to say, dull drama. It’s filmed in black and white- opening with a set shot/ photo- of a woman sitting in a tiny, cramped room- she is facing the wall.  As things unfold, we get a female voiceover (Akerman, I presume) talking over her moving into a new apartment, painting the furniture, removing it from the apartment, then removing everything but the mattress from the apartment. She writes letters/ then scribbles out lines, she eats lots of sugar from a bag, takes her clothes over and puts them back on.

Then at the thirty-three minute mark, she leaves the apartment- stands on the side of a busy road to be picked up by a lorry driver, then later she goes to meet a woman from her past- with the film finishing with its most provocative scene- a lengthy softcore encounter between the two woman on a white sheeted bed.

There are elements I appreciate here- some of the first parts of the film are both intriguing and slightly unsettling, but it largely plays out far too pretentious for my liking. The latter part of the film really seems to drag and is frankly quite dull- the fleshy resolve is quite a contrast to the rest of the film, and was clearly acted/ played out with real passion. 

I, You, He, She is clearly one of the most personal films Akerman has made- and I understand the points it tries to make about isolation and uncertainty, and the need to find love. But I found it the least effective/ un-engaging film of the set.

On this disc, we have a commentary track for Je Tu Il Elle by So Mayer and Selina Robertson. This again is rather informative/interesting, and I must say it improved the film for me, though at points they do get a little heavy on the more cinematic academic side of things. We find out the pair showed the film some years back at a grassroots/ punk film festival, and we find out the film was first shown in the UK in 1979 at the ICA.  They discuss the possible influences on the film, such as Michael Snow and Yoko Ono. They point out the moments of subtle witness and humor in the picture. The use of symmetrical shape in the film, and how Akerman's own body breaks these up.  They mention the layer of sound, and comment on whether this film was a precursor to AMSR. Later, they talk about Akerman being just twenty-four at the making of the film, and how her acting portrays a feeling of amazing passiveness. They discuss the reason for the film being in black & white- basically, she managed to source a reel of film.

On disc three, we have Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles was Akerman's 8^th film, and her second full-length. It’s the most known/ celebrated of her work- and for good reason, as it’s an unequal character study.

The film runs at a whopping three hours and twenty minutes- it features no formal score/ soundtrack, as well as only a smattering of dialogue. The film focuses on Jeanne Dielman (Delphine Seyrig) a middle-aged, widowed woman- who lives in a one-bedroom Brussels apartment- with her bookworm teenage son Sylvain (Jan Decorte) who sleeps on a pull-out bed in their front room.

The first hour or so of the film is based mainly in the apartment, as we see Jeanne carrying out housework/ daily chores. Itinually Akerman utilises repeated set shots of the kitchen, the front room, the apartment's corridor, and its bathroom- but as we progress she peppers these with different angles- as we full get immersed in the space, and Jeanne neat/ precise routines- which she repeats in an almost identical manner.

As the film unfolds, we see her getting male visitors- who are ushers into her bedroom- with the door shut behind them, appearing after time passes- the men are handed back their coats, hats, scarves- before they fish out the wallet to pay for services.

Sylvain reappears each evening with the pair having supper in near silence, before he does some study, and his sofa bed is pulled out.

I found the film from the off strangely engaging as we watched Jeanne's daily domestic ritual. And as it progresses into its second and third hour, we take a few journeys out of the apartment- to buy food items for supper, go to the post office to pay in money, get Sylvain, and stare into near silence in a café.

At a point, ‘something’ shifts in the very lonely and rather lost Jeanne- but I won’t detail what this is, and what occurs due to it- but trust me, the whole three-hour and twenty-minute journey is most captivating, and it's reslove is rather surprising. 

The cast is very small- largely just been Seyrig, and to a lesser extent Decorte- with a few other briefly seen actors.  The film is a wonderful character study- the length is most certainly needed, so you can get truly wrapped out in the initial firm and neat rituals, as well as monitor its subtle changes. All in all, Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles was Akerman is truly a one-off take on the character study.

We get a commentary track on Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles by Kate Rennebohm and Simon Howell of the Akerman Year podcast.  This covers the film's full runtime, and there are some worthy conversations had about the film, though the pair do spend five minutes or so talking about their own careers/ how they met, which I must say was a first for me on a commentary track. Anyway, when they finally get going, they move from talking about the film's top place ranking in a 2022 BFI poll and the complex reasons for this.  They talk about how it’s rather a pandemic film, looking at how we manage/ deal with our interiors, and anxiety. Later on, they talk about how the picture is about a woman trying to create and maintain order, and how many of the director's output has a hyperreal feel. They discuss how the lead character is decidedly odd. Much later, they talk about the possibility of subjectiveness in the flim, how it changes over many watches, etc. All in all, a track certainly worth dipping in & out of.

On disc four, we have two films- News From Home- an ‘experimental’ documentary bringing together footage/ reading of letters. And Les Rendez-Vous D'Anna- a glum drama following a female director around Europe- encountering both strangers and family.

News From Home is from the year 1976, with a runtime of one hour and twenty-nine minutes.  It purely consists of footage filmed in New York City, and Akerman reading letters sent to her by her mother in the US.  At the point of the letter writing, Akerman was twenty-one, and clearly from the letters she wasn’t a big traveller- her mother is very loving/ caring, though somewhat over fussy/ over protective- with late letters chasing up her daughter for not getting back to her.

The footage of New York City starts off with set shots of back alleyways/ streets, as cars cruise by, with one or two people moving. As we go on, we get set shots of figures sitting/ leaning on things- with busy streets in the distance.  We then move onto set shots of the subway- first as set shots of the graffiti-sprayed train door- the of full carriages of people.

We later see the rush of subway users from different directions, and footage travelling through the streets in vehicles.  With a final set shop moving out on the water from Manhattan island, the buildings disappear into the fog.

As the film moves on, some of the footage features the sound of the travelling- especially loud on the underground, with the reading of letters seemingly getting more buried/ less easy to hear (well in the English version).

From the off, I guess you’ll need to enjoy the travel log/ footage of cities to get the most from the film, I do- but up to a point, and I’d say the film runs say maybe twenty minutes too long. The blending of the images and read texts is effective, and the way they start to become less clear as we move on, suggests getting used to a location/ becoming less homesick.

The second film on disc four is 1978’s Les Rendez-Vous D’Anna (aka Meetings With Anna ). It runs at two hours and eight minutes, with no formal score, and often long takes of railway stations and hotel rooms.

The film is centred around Anna Silver(Aurore Clément), a sullen, pale, and blonde-haired director in her twenties. She is traveling around various European cities showing her new film, though we never get to know anything about the film- even its title.

The picture is focused on a selection of encounters Ann has- her journey by train from city to city, and her time in several hotel rooms. It opens, setting the viewers' expectation of its slow pace, feeling of mystery, and a pervading feeling of loneliness. We get a set shot of a train platform- a train pulls in, people get off- a large crowd of people descend the steps in the middle of the shot- but one figure breaks off, to walk up the platform to make a phone call- this, of course, is Anna.

As Ann encounters the series of characters, initially, we’re unsure of their connections with the young director, their motives, or their wants/ needs. Each encounter is filmed in an often stark, and at points uneasy/ lightly chilling manner.  The train stations and the hotels Anna makes her way through are filmed in either a grey, bleak, or lonely manner.

As we move through the film, we find out Anna has quite a few people in her life- with media and critical acclaimed/ interest in her films and writing. But for most of the film she remains glum, rather lost, and lonely.

The flow of the film is fairly unpredictable; we know she is traveling to another city, but there’s no indication of who or when she’ll have her encounter.

Clément gives a very subtle and nuanced performance, as does the rest of the small cast. The film perfectly distils feelings of loneliness, emotional numbness, and the general lulling grey pull of life.

Les Rendez-Vous D'Anna is once again a well-shot and acted film, with a typical slow Akerman pace. I’d say it’s a film to watch after you've seen a few of her films, as it does take a little time to get to know/fully understand the Anna character, who does initially seem decidedly cold, detached, and not overly likeable.

On this disc, we get a commentary track on Les Rendez-Vous D'Anna from Kate Rennebohm of the Akerman Year podcast. She starts by talking about how the opening shot of our lead finds all lines set against her, as if something is threatening her. She talks about the film's themes of displacement, and possibly autobiographical elements, as we find out Chantal was known as Anna in her early years.  She discusses the director's career at this point, how the film had a relatively large budget of six hundred thousand dollars, and how it got mixed reviews when it was released. We find out that, unlike Jeanne Dielman, the film didn’t have a completely female crew, and the possible reason for this. Later on, she discusses the use of front-facing shots and how these become more loaded the further we get in. Talks about some of the films' more haunted shots, and more. Again a worth a play track- though the longer it goes on we the commentary does get a little more sporadic.

The fifth and final disc in the set focuses purely on extras, moving from interviews with Chantal Akerman, her mother, and those who worked with her. To a full-length making of, and a few other things. First up, we have- Chantal Akerman 1976: An Interview (50.48 mins), which was filmed in Chicago with Chantal being interviewed by B Ruby Rich- it’s all shot with Ms Akereman off centre of the shot- with a very crude monochrome TV print. In the interview, she discusses her early films, as well as touching on how she got into filmmaking/ picking up equipment. Next is Autour de Jeanne Dielman (1 hour 8 mins), which this a 1975 documentary filmed by French director Sami Frey. It’s a blend of interviews/ making of for Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles- it features behind-the-scenes interaction between lead actress Delphine Seyrig, director & crew- it’s shot in low definition black & white. Entretien avec ma mère, Natalia Akerman (29.39): from 2007 with Chantal Akerman talking to her mother Natalia in her family's kitchen, this is filmed in colour with English subtitles. Interview with Babette Mangolte (34.07) This is an interview with the cinematographe Mangolte - again it’s a modern interview shot in colour. Interview with Aurore Clement (19.04) interview with the actor- again another modern/ colour interview. Lastly, we have Leaving Home – New World Vision (14.06), which is a visual essay from artist Sarah Wood- where she discusses News From Home (1976), and its impact on her.  All in not a bad selection of things- though it might have been nice to have a new documentary looking at this period in  Chantal’s career, and the impact of her work in general on European/ arthouse cinema.

As a box set, Chantal Akerman Collection Vol.1: 1967-1978 charts the development of Akerman's career very well, showing the growth of her ability/ talent and distinctive cinematic voice.  It’s a release that will appeal to those who have a least some grounding/ appreciation of arthouse cinema- but if you do, you'll find much here to enjoy/ponder.