Educational Media Reviews Online

This film, originally produced for French television, is a later addition to the documentary series Cinema, of Our Time (Cinéastes de Notre Temps), which was begun in the 1960s and ‘70s to showcase some of the most important filmmakers of those years. When the producers of Cinema, of Our Time asked Belgian director Chantal Akerman if she would direct a documentary about a worthy director of her choice, she jokingly suggested making a film about herself. She got the job – and found herself in a quandary. One of the defining characteristics of Akerman’s work is her films’ reluctance to provide meaning for the audience. Her films tend to avoid clear narratives and minimize plot, preferring to present the viewer with seemingly unconnected events and images out of which to form his own meaning. The viewer who does not become an active participant in Akerman’s unconventional storytelling methods will leave the theater disappointed.

And so it is with this documentary. The film begins with a long monologue by Akerman herself, shot in her own apartment, in which she introduces the problem of explaining herself and her work to the viewer. She tries several techniques –relating advice from friends, speaking of herself in the third person, recounting early filmmaking experiences, introducing the possibility that filmmaking is in her blood (her grandmother was a painter) – but in the end she concedes defeat and returns to her original idea of letting her films speak for themselves.

The next section of the film, titled “Self Portrait,” consists of about forty-five minutes of clips from most of her films, spanning from 1968 to 1994, with no contextualization whatsoever. The clips simply come and go, and it is the viewer’s job to determine why these particular clips have been chosen, why they have been juxtaposed in certain ways, and what they say about Akerman as a filmmaker.

The final section of the film returns to Akerman in her apartment. She makes one last attempt to define herself, but can only bring herself to state two irrefutable facts: her name and her birthplace.

It’s difficult to say whether this film would be a useful addition to a media library. Viewers looking for a conventionally informative documentary, one that explains Akerman’s background, training, influences, style, noteworthy contributions to filmmaking, and most successful films, will be disappointed. Viewers interested in experiencing the visual, aural, and narrative style of Akerman’s films, however, will fare better. The hallmarks of Akerman’s films -- static camera, minimal dialogue, close attention to framing (and framing within the frame), careful use of light and shadow, dismissal of plot, very long takes, slow pace, a tendency for action to wander out of the camera’s range – emerge strongly from the “Self Portrait” segment of the film, and they are also present in the documentary as a whole. But viewers must be patient, and engage with the material, to make the most of this film.

In other words, if viewers can put aside their notions of what a documentary about a filmmaker is supposed to do, they will find that Chantal Akerman by Chantal Akerman offers a surprisingly illuminating introduction to Akerman’s work.

The film is primarily in French, with English subtitles.