The Shelley Duvall narration really helps.

As the narration addresses a life of solitude, resignation and inertia, the photography is always alive with motion. I can't remember the last time I saw a camera glide through its world so effortlessly and beautifully, and the rare still frames are themselves filled with quiet movement. By the "climax" all this frantic movement begins to make some thematic sense, but I can't say I walked away from this feeling much of anything beyond aesthetic appreciation. Or was that the point?

Frosty the flim-flam glasses of snow-Beatles

very compelling for a movie in which nothing happens