An insufferably boring film consisting of meaningless imagery, and mundane conversations, all of which, I suppose, Ms. Akerman construed as some kind of artful exposition of her relationship with her mother. While Ms. Akerman may title the film "No Home Movie" it nevertheless comes across as a most pretentious "Art House Home Movie" and could well qualify as some sort of archetypal example of Cinema of The Absurd. You may love it if you are fascinated with five minutes of a tree blowing in the wind, a shirtless obese man sitting in a park, a broken down lawn chair in a garden, long stretches of desert scenery jaggedly photographed from a moving car, or ridiculously superficial conversations of no concern to the viewer filmed through a doorway or in the dark.
Review of No Home Movie
