This 73-minute Argentinean feature by Lisandro Alonso argues that our lives consist largely of unnoticed routines, which gain meaning only when observed by others. Whether they make for interesting viewing is a matter of opinion, but I was engrossed by this poetic portrayal of a day in the life of a humble and isolated woodcutter. Alonso’s camera relentlessly follows him as he performs the tasks that determine his survival: cutting wood, clearing brambles from his camp, taking a shit in the woods, heating up lunch over a fire, washing up after hours of toil, driving a truckload of wood, preparing an armadillo for dinner. The film’s first half contains no dialogue, as the woodcutter focuses on his daily routine; only when he gets a ride from a man and his son does anyone speak, and even then it’s brief. Quite possibly Alonso was inspired by Chantal Akerman’s groundbreaking Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, though the accretion of daily routines in this 2001 film doesn’t lead to any dramatic payoff; this is a pure meditation on life’s small moments.