In a place known for its relentless rain, Karrer (Miklós Székely B), always bundled up in a raincoat, goes through the motions of a life as lifeless as his surroundings. What keeps him going is his affection for the married singer at the gloomy "Titanik" bar (Vali Kerekes), to whom he repeatedly professes his devotion, and his dislike for her husband, Willarsky (Gyula Pauer). Fortunately, the husband’s frequent absences due to debt allow them to occasionally give in to their connection. That's essentially what the story involves. Is there any possibility of this small world expanding? What’s interesting about this film, which is a study in black-and-white sadness, is that the narrative seems almost beside the point of what Béla Tarr intends to present. The visuals are damp and somber; the constant camera movements—tracking shots, panning shots, extended close-ups of rain falling from branches or faces in the bar—don’t really advance the plot, but they do contribute to the film's unique atmosphere. There's a song – as disheartening as the weather itself – performed by a quiet saxophonist that I felt captured the overall feeling of this slow and bleak experience. I don’t claim to be an expert on movies or qualified to analyze the director’s intentions or originality, I can only comment on what I witnessed over two hours, and while it's true that it can be tedious at times, there were moments when it felt like exploring an art exhibit where the lighting (or shadows) revealed something in the otherwise unremarkable setting. It won't appeal to everyone because not a great deal actually occurs; the dialogue is minimal, and the repetitive nature of events could challenge viewers who need to concentrate for a couple of hours, as the constant sound and sight of rain might become irritating. I’m not sure I would rewatch it—but as an example of capturing the sadness of routine, hopelessness, and the ordinariness of everyday existence, it's worth seeing. It's best experienced in a movie theater, though; watching it at home on television will diminish its photographic qualities, and you might be tempted to skip ahead.

Source on TMDB