Doug Dillaman’s review published on Letterboxd :
Seems almost procedurally generated in its almost baffling disinterest in dramatic emphasis, focusing on making sure shots don't end until the talent has not just left the screen but left the room they're in, while otherwise cutting immediately after the (wooden) utterance of a line, switching between timelnes as if it ain't no thing, stress-testing the Godardian girl/gun axiom, and using some baffling visual sequences (one shot/reverse-shot sequence cuts from a man sitting on a couch to a woman as the back of her head is visible leaving frame via a mirror) ... is this all Brechtian alienation deploying cunningly, or a primitivism borne of limited understanding of film technique, this being an early film by Straub/Huillet (who I've seen nothing else by)? I've honestly no idea. Certainly, there's something plausible in the notion that this is a film whose failure to cohere in traditional means is directly meant to reflect the rupture caused by WWII and the continuing non-reconcilement depicted in this film; on the other hand, there's something equally plausible in the less credulous perspective, that it's just a film whose vision outstrips the abilities of its filmmakers (at least, at this early stage of their career). Moments of ambition and compelling writing (if not performance) means I can't dismiss this entirely, but one film I am farther from understanding S/H than zero films in.