Not at all my jam, although I didn't hate it, as I expected to. Long tracking shots still scream lack of focus to me--if the filmmaker doesn't know which part of the screen is interesting, why should I care?--but Tarr has a way of letting the sheer complexity and grandeur trump their inherent awkwardness. First scene is of course most emblematic of this distinct power, and for me served to highlight a few arguable elements of Tarr's style: first, that the tracking long shots sacrifice environment for character; second, that the austere acting sacrifices character for symbolism; third, that the overall God-like camera omniscience confuses whatever human significance the narrative can hold. The entire film is basically anti-detail, anti-moment, more focused on the sustaining of life than on life itself, which gives off a philosophical confusion that is rather weird in a film concerned with Nietzche. Startling as it is to have our characters return to looking out a window, eating a potato, etc, with all the stark power the cinematography can bestow, one gets the feeling that this utter bleakness is borne of false severity. There is no faith in this picture whatsoever; it is determined, yes, but hardly honest or definitive. Just a bunch of symbols walking around in a gloom of technical expertise, in my honest opinion.