Beau is Afraid
If I had the time and the patience I would make a Venn diagram intersecting circles labeled "mother!", "a Terry Gilliam a movie" and "Under the Silver Lake", with the overlapping sections titled "journey to nowhere", "sexual repression" and "overexcited imagination". And dead center in the middle you'd find Beau is Afraid, which is about a pathetic man's slow, nightmarish journey to nowhere as he squirms under the shadow of a simultaneously absent and overbearing mother.
Three hours is one hour ten minutes too long for something with such tenuous foothold on its own reality. Whole chapters and sequences of events open randomly, develop indefinitely and close suddenly, and then we're on to something else like it's a variety show. Even Inland Empire didn't feel this disjointed. And while the ending does tie everything more or less together it still feels anticlimactic, because 1) it undoes one major fucking plot point and 2) it all boils down to a joke, basically.
As a person of many hours of retail the last hour is the equivalent of a customer who won't shut up while I go uh huh, yeah, sure, of course, uh huh, yup, right, oh really? Uh huh, yep, ok, sure, of course, yeah.