Just saw No Home Movie which I loved!
It a narrative-less peephole view of the director’s mother and their relationship. It radiated love.
As anyone who knows me will know, despite my pretensions, I actually get bored during long shots of “nothing happening”; after thinking, “Yes, pretty”, I think about where I’m itchy, how full my bladder is, what I’m going to eat after the film. By all rights I shouldn’t have liked this movie, which features almost ten-minute long landscape shots of a car journey through Oklahoma or the sun on her mother’s rug in her Brussels flat. But I fell in love with her mother.
This movie is about how we love, what our love is composed of. I loved her mother, not because of huge dramatic plot-points, but because I loved the sound of her shuffling feet on the floor, the small hums and gasps her mother made to herself pottering about the flat alone, her multiple abortive attempts to finish phone conversations. I saw her mother just as she was, imbued with the love the director had for her, and it was beautiful.