There’s a difference between minimalist and vacuous, and writer-director Annie Baker doesn’t seem to know the difference. The playwright’s debut feature, to put it simply, is boring, pretentious, meandering, unfocused and a big, fat waste of time. It’s so dull, in fact, that the film makes the works of Kelly Reichardt appear utterly fascinating. Set in 1991 in the hippie-dominated arts community of rural western Massachusetts, the film follows the story (if one could even call it that) of middle-aged acupuncturist Janet (Julianne Nicholson) as she struggles to sort out what appears to have been a wayward, meandering life. And, as this tale plays out, it faithfully sticks to that course, too, an influence that’s clearly wearing off on Janet’s equally clueless, incessantly brooding, 8-year-old daughter, Lacy (newcomer Zoe Ziegler). Along the way, the duo experiences an array of cryptic, inconsequential involvements with others who are apparently fascinated with Janet (though goodness knows why), all of whom (Will Patton, Sophie Okonedo, Elias Koteas) are just as lost and boring as Janet is. So what’s the point in all this? Who knows – and, not long into the picture, who cares? The raves that have been showered on this tedious, tiresome piece of filmmaking are a complete mystery to me, given its prevailing mundane nature and monotone performances by players who all sound like they’ve been shot up with sodium pentothal. Nicholson, in particular, comes across as so disengaged that she probably could have just as easily phoned in this performance (despite claims that this is the breakthrough role that she’s supposedly been waiting for – please, watch her in “August: Osage County” (2013) instead). What’s more, this picture probably has some of the worst sound quality I’ve ever seen in a contemporary production – so bad that I had to struggle to be able to hear what was being said (and I was sitting in the theater’s second row). And the film’s feeble attempts at trying to incorporate some kind of subtle, nuanced metaphysical undercurrent fail miserably as well, treated almost as if their inclusion was an afterthought. If you dare to consider giving this one a look, make sure you don’t watch it when you’re tired – you just might fall asleep soon after the opening credits roll, an understandable reaction, to be sure.