An interior travelogue tracing the barren trajectory of one woman -- and maybe of film, art, sex, and Europe -- to Hotel Terminus, Anna is one of Akerman's most intriguing and beautiful films, as tender as it is alienated and as searching as it is formally claustrophobic. Made in a time more or less equidistant from our own overstimulated inertia and the zero hour of 1945, its anomie is chillingly prescient.
Anna's societal alienation reflected on her encounters with people along her travel to Paris reflects the spirit of Akerman's feminist commentary: sparse, minimalist and often revelatory. Anna is not an ordinary woman, but a filmmaker whose own existence is clouded by her pursuit to for independence. Along the way she realizes the pursuit for independence is not a very happy one in contrast to other feminist works.
people are depicted as so mechanical that i was seriously waiting for wires and batteries to start flying out of their heads. amazing.