This film had no story. Nothing happens. Then it ends, sort of.
Minimalist? There's no coherent structure or dialog. I suppose this is art in the sense that a pile of broken bottles is considered post-modern art. virtually every aspect of the film is poorly done. Nobody can be heard. Nothing occurs. Even the supposed downward spiral of the Blake character is muddled by DP's penchant for pulling the camera so far away we don't even know what's happening. So he what, walking into a shed and died? What did he die of? Who the hell were the people hanging around him? We never see him do a single thing that would remotely explain any of his behavior. Was randomly resetting the story a couple times with slightly different angles supposed to be artistic, or just really bad editing? I don't know.
If this was an attempt to see how many of the fundamentals of film making could be completely f-cked up and still get idiots to praise the film, then it certainly didn't find the upper limit.
The most iconic and honest part of the film is when the camera stops following Blake and just stares at some plants for a few minutes. That was the heart of this film, poorly observing an entirely uninteresting event.
It couldn't even end right. Flashes to the inexplicable death scene keep cutting into the credits as if the boring as hell film is like "wait, the paint isn't done drying yet! Keep watching nothing happen!"