Chantal Akerman’s 1975 feature Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles is the ultimate arthouse exercise in provocative monotony, and was anointed by the 2022 Sight and Sound critics’ poll as the best film of all time. Now it’s hard not to see its influence everywhere, especially in films with a distinctly feminist, queer or queer-adjacent vibe, such as this one from Austrian directors Milena Czernovsky and Lilith Kraxner. Although it doesn’t conclude with any extreme Akermanian violence, Bluish closely observes the rituals of daily life for its two twentysomething protagonists, favouring long takes and deep-breath editing rhythms to explore the quotidian.

Although we never learn the pronouns Errol (Leonie Bramberger) prefers, their name suggests a non-binary disposition and when it comes to romance they seem to mostly prefer other Afab (“assigned female at birth”) people, like a cute young thing seemingly met through a dating app.

That encounter is one of the dramatic highlights because a lot of the rest of the movie is just watching Errol sitting around, attending a Zoom university lesson, taking a shower after swimming, and generally mooching about. Russophone Sasha (Natasha Goncharova) is fractionally more active and chatty, and seems to have a boyfriend who is so boring the camera can’t even be bothered to record his face. She works with another possibly non-binary artist, helping to prepare for an art show, and likes to dance, either by herself or at parties.

The two main characters’ stories kind of converge, but narrative seems less important here than simple moving-image portraiture. The frames are carefully composed and care has clearly been taken with the colour palette (unsurprising given the title); nearly every textile and surface is mostly shades of blue with the odd pop of pink or white, as if the design were based on the trans flag. The result is decorative and watchable, if a bit too oblique for casual consumption.

• Bluish is at the ICA, London, from 21 February.