When I saw Distant (2002) by the same director, Nuri Ceylan, I was suitably impressed with his cinematic technique: sparse dialog, enclosed simple sets, very long takes, long static shots, little or no music sound track, minimal cast of characters – and essentially allows the story to unfold by simply observing what people do. The next film of Ceylan's I saw, Climates (2006), used similar techniques and followed a similar pattern; but I liked Distant more, at that time.
With this one, Nuri Ceyaln has proved that he is truly a master of visual story-telling. Moreover, this is a more compelling and a more intense story than the above two because it delves into the daily, banal evil that occurs – and is often covered up – in families in all cultures in real life, all of which is implicitly contained within the title. Curiously, as a boy long ago whenever I visited my paternal grandmother, I would almost always pick up the same ornament – a trio of monkeys in a row and in appropriate poses – with the words Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil inscribed in the base. At that time, I thought it was quite funny to look at...
This story illustrates those frailties when Servet (Ercan Kesal), a local businessman and wannabe politician, accidentally kills a pedestrian with his car at night and desperately pressures his chauffeur, Eyup (Yavuz Bingol) to take the rap for him – for a good price – which inevitably leads to the spiral of doubt, distrust and evil that eventually overshadows Eyup, his wife, Hacer (Hatice Aslan) and his son, Ismail (Ahmet Sungar). And throughout the story, the lack of dialog heightens the disconnect that grows between the father, mother and son, all of whom live at the top of a reasonably affluent blocks of apartments overlooking a railway which parallels a freeway, and with the open sea as a backdrop .
Those who know Ceylan's films know he likes long, static takes in either extremely long shot or medium to extreme close up; so, viewers won't be disappointed at all. Coupled with Ceylan's proclivity to have the actors face on to the camera more than any other director I've seen (and without breaking the fourth wall), viewers can savor and even wonder at the effect the actors have upon them as they watch – an effect so strong that I, at least, actually have the feeling of being there; and in this film particularly.
Complications continue, though, when Hacer thinks she is falling in love with Servet (who is married, of course) after he seduces her just once; thereafter, she won't let him go, much to his displeasure and despite his threats directed to her. And, after Eyup is released from prison nine months later, things really go down the toilet when he begins to suspect what we, as voyeurs, know already; and they reach rock bottom when Servet is found dead, murdered. Meanwhile, young Ismail attempts to make his way in the world while silently witnessing his parents' difficulties.
Overshadowing the family's problems is the poignant memory of the son who apparently drowned while still very young – a recollection that still affects all three.
One thing, of course, always leads to another. But here, not only is the resolution of the murder a surprise, but the aftermath is what really got me: a totally unexpected, but deliciously ironic narrative closure that makes diabolical sense in yet another oh-so-real-life story about the devil's playground viz. human relationships.
Do see this movie from one of the best directors in the world today. And take note of the quality of the actors and the stunning photography – particularly the long, final shot of Eyup atop his apartment as he looks out to sea – while you are entertained with a story as old as antiquity. I look forward to seeing Once Upon a Time in Anatolia. I hope you also feel the same.
Highly recommended – but definitely not for action/thriller fans and rev-heads.
March 8, 2012
With this one, Nuri Ceyaln has proved that he is truly a master of visual story-telling. Moreover, this is a more compelling and a more intense story than the above two because it delves into the daily, banal evil that occurs – and is often covered up – in families in all cultures in real life, all of which is implicitly contained within the title. Curiously, as a boy long ago whenever I visited my paternal grandmother, I would almost always pick up the same ornament – a trio of monkeys in a row and in appropriate poses – with the words Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil inscribed in the base. At that time, I thought it was quite funny to look at...
This story illustrates those frailties when Servet (Ercan Kesal), a local businessman and wannabe politician, accidentally kills a pedestrian with his car at night and desperately pressures his chauffeur, Eyup (Yavuz Bingol) to take the rap for him – for a good price – which inevitably leads to the spiral of doubt, distrust and evil that eventually overshadows Eyup, his wife, Hacer (Hatice Aslan) and his son, Ismail (Ahmet Sungar). And throughout the story, the lack of dialog heightens the disconnect that grows between the father, mother and son, all of whom live at the top of a reasonably affluent blocks of apartments overlooking a railway which parallels a freeway, and with the open sea as a backdrop .
Those who know Ceylan's films know he likes long, static takes in either extremely long shot or medium to extreme close up; so, viewers won't be disappointed at all. Coupled with Ceylan's proclivity to have the actors face on to the camera more than any other director I've seen (and without breaking the fourth wall), viewers can savor and even wonder at the effect the actors have upon them as they watch – an effect so strong that I, at least, actually have the feeling of being there; and in this film particularly.
Complications continue, though, when Hacer thinks she is falling in love with Servet (who is married, of course) after he seduces her just once; thereafter, she won't let him go, much to his displeasure and despite his threats directed to her. And, after Eyup is released from prison nine months later, things really go down the toilet when he begins to suspect what we, as voyeurs, know already; and they reach rock bottom when Servet is found dead, murdered. Meanwhile, young Ismail attempts to make his way in the world while silently witnessing his parents' difficulties.
Overshadowing the family's problems is the poignant memory of the son who apparently drowned while still very young – a recollection that still affects all three.
One thing, of course, always leads to another. But here, not only is the resolution of the murder a surprise, but the aftermath is what really got me: a totally unexpected, but deliciously ironic narrative closure that makes diabolical sense in yet another oh-so-real-life story about the devil's playground viz. human relationships.
Do see this movie from one of the best directors in the world today. And take note of the quality of the actors and the stunning photography – particularly the long, final shot of Eyup atop his apartment as he looks out to sea – while you are entertained with a story as old as antiquity. I look forward to seeing Once Upon a Time in Anatolia. I hope you also feel the same.
Highly recommended – but definitely not for action/thriller fans and rev-heads.
March 8, 2012