Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles 1978

Here’s my rephrased version:

In a poignant exploration of routine and rebellion, the film delves into the life of Jeanne Dielman, a widowed mother (whose name is only whispered through the title and a fleeting glimpse in a letter she reads to her son). Her days are meticulously structured around cooking, cleaning, parenting, and running errands with military precision. Yet, amidst this regimented existence, Jeanne’s afternoon appointments with various clients become an integral part of her daily ritual, a fact she seems to accept with resignation. Like all her actions, these encounters are performed with mechanical detachment, as if they’re merely another item on her never-ending to-do list.

However, a subtle shift occurs over the course of three days, sparked by a visit from one of Jeanne’s clients. Her fastidious demeanor begins to fray at the edges, and the fabric of her routine starts to unravel. The most mundane tasks become imbued with an air of uncertainty: she overcooks potatoes while preparing dinner, then wanders aimlessly around the apartment clutching the potato pot; forgets to secure the lid on the porcelain urn containing her hard-earned money; neglects to extinguish lights in rooms she leaves; and even misplaces a button on her housecoat. The cumulative effect of these small lapses is a growing sense of disorientation.

As Jeanne’s routine continues to deteriorate, the film builds towards a shocking climax. When a client arrives for their afternoon assignation, Jeanne’s frustration boils over, and she takes drastic action, stabbing him to death with scissors before sitting calmly at her dining-room table, as if nothing out of the ordinary has occurred.