I don't consider narrative and storytelling to be necessary for a film to be called film. These are, alongside cinematography and performance, elements that are sufficient to make up a film but they are not fundamental in the sense that they have to be there if not a film can no longer be categorized as such. As a matter of fact, I don't believe that we should talk about categories to delineate what film is from what it is NOT, contra other forms of art. Perhaps it's more important to consider the effects of what film can do - how can it transform the aesthetic domain, and subsequently affect the ideas, thoughts and emotions of men?
Exactly this.
Also as a push back against two criticisms frequently levelled at Jeanne Dielman
1) Even if one considers narrative essential to film (they shouldn't, but let's entertain that for one millisecond) Jeanne Dielman is very clearly storytelling. Not conventionally told, sure, but just because it pays more attention to the mundane details that surround the narrative, a narrative it is. And just because some have levelled similar accusations towards L'Avventura, Mulholland Drive, 2001, Passion of Joan of Arc, Weekend and all sorts of movies that are obviously narratives, and also deserving of their canonical status, doesn't mean we should be making the same swipes at Dielman simply because of the extra challenge it extends to the audience.
2) To equate Akerman's style in JD to security camera footage is pretty absurd as it's not paying any sufficient attention to its precise editing, sound design, image composition, blocking. It's an immaculately made film, up there with 2001 in the precision of its presentation. One of the few films which always makes sense when it appears in a top 10 list (not that I think it must be there, but it's way more egregious than all sorts of other fluff that sometimes appear on these things)
For me, it's easily one of the most riveting cinematic experiences I've ever seen. It's profoundly moving. It's revolutionary. It's a wonderful provocation. And it's always a fantastic topic of conversation (as long as no one stumbles into the 'it's not even a movie' territory). And while I get while people struggle with it, and maybe even understand how some might distrust it to a degree, the hostility it so frequently receives is baffling to me when it comes from anyone with a seemingly wide understanding of film history.
Sadly, I get why so many who don't gel with it would never rewatch it (it's a commitment, it's probably a horrendous slog for anyone who isn't open to its many charms), but, seriously, more people should. The film plays like music the more one becomes familiar with its rhythms. And once it draws you in, it locks you inside with this emotionally crushing existence of hers she seems to eternally sleepwalk through. Sublime and terrifying. Perfect.