Jaime Rebanal’s review published on Letterboxd:
I felt something about this viewing getting to me. It's easy enough to doze off with the concept alone, and seeing things coming together within the first sections and the more you notice those subtleties becoming apparent as the film goes on and the routine carries on, what comes forth out of Jeanne Dielman makes the sound of a brush falling to the floor come out like a jump scare. I think that speaks to the genius of Chantal Akerman as an artist, because of how much this film draws itself out to the point you feel like you're trapped there, but then it isn't until the final moments where you have everything put into place.
I've already seen this movie more than enough times to know exactly when and where everything is going to happen, and sometimes it becomes exhaustive, but you're never sitting there feeling like you wasted time. To be trapped into that routine is slowly draining, and it gets to you in that way, and when everything is so quiet, something so ordinary can end up making some of the loudest noises (those baby cries especially were particularly grating).