Pretentious crap. It's not the pace that's bothersome, or the repetitiveness, or the complete lack of plot. What's irritating is the ridiculous stoical pessimism devoid of humanity Tarr depicts. Along with occasional sophomoric interjections of existentialist philosophy, and a ridiculous intellectualized depressed version of peasant life. The truly stunning cinematography is wasted.
Wake up. Get dressed. Shots of brandy. Collect water. Eat a potato. Stare out window. Go to sleep. Repeat. It's difficult to say what kind of person you are after finishing this glacier of a film. You can say it allows time for ample thinking; in fact, it is clearly the intention of the filmmaker to allow the audience to formulate what goes unsaid, piecing together original stories based on the narration alone.
aestheticsofthemind.wordpress.com/2015/06/24/the-turin-horse-tarr-2012/ For six days, man and woman each eat a potato, and then dark silence overcomes them. Ritual figures deeply in Tarr’s observation of the death of God. Metonyms of the Lord, the horse will not eat, the wind will not blow, the water will not rise, the fire will not burn. Life stands still. God Is Dead. 99/100 – Masterful