Movie Review: The Wild Pear Tree

The Wild Pear Tree **** / *****

Directed by: Nuri Bilge Ceylan   

Written by: Akin Aksu and Ebru Ceylan and Nuri Bilge Ceylan.

Starring: Dogu Demirkol (Sinan Karasu), Murat Cemcir (Idris Karasu), Bennu Yildirimlar (Asuman Karasu), Hazar Ergüçlü (Hatice), Serkan Keskin (Suleyman), Tamer Levent (Grandfather Recep), Öner Erkan (Imam Nazmi), Ahmet Rifat Sungar (Ali Riza), Akin Aksu (Imam Veysel), Kubilay Tunçer (Ilhami), Ercüment Balakoglu (Grandfather Ramazan), Kadir Çermik (Mayor Adnan), Özay Fecht (Grandmother Hayriye), Sencar Sagdic (Nevzat), Asena Keskinci (Yasemin Karasu).

 

There is very possibly a better version of Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s The Wild Pear Tree that runs only two hours or so, instead of the epic three hours and ten minutes that the final version does. But while a shorter film may have been a better film, I cannot help but think it would less of a Nuri Bilge Ceylan film than the version we got. Ceylan’s films – in particular his last three – Once Upon a Time in Anatolia, Winter Sleep and now this – are all long films, made up of long conversations, as our main characters gradually come to some sort of realization. In Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (which is my favorite of his work), it is a group of cops with a murderer driving around the countryside, as the murderer tries to remember where he buried his victim. Eventually, everything is learned about the crime – and yet, nothing is learned – the closer you look, the less you understand. In Winter Sleep, it was about the main characters slow dawning realization that he is not the beloved figure in his small town he thought he was – he is actually hated, and with good reason. By the end, he realizes he is an asshole. In The Wild Pear Tree, it is about the young would be writer, Sinan Karasu (Dogu Demirkol), freshly graduated from university, and so sure of himself, his ideas about writing, his ideas about his father, etc. – who over the course of three hours and many, long conversations who realizes he doesn’t understand as much as he thinks he does – and that he is a lot more like his father, who he hates, than he cares to admit. Yes, you could make a shorter version of this film – and it may be more conventionally satisfying (and more people would likely see it) – but I like what Ceylan does, and admire the fact that he takes his time getting there. The payoff, when it comes, means more.

 

When we first meet Sinan, it is as he walks through his small hometown, just graduated from college, and he is accosted (in a friendly way) but a shopkeeper, who wants Sinan to remind his father, Idris (Murat Cemcir) about the gold coins he lent him months ago. Sinan seems hardly surprised that his father owes money – his father always owes money. He is a gambling addict, and already the family has had to downsize into an apartment from their house, and Sinan’s mother, Asuman (Bennu Yildirmlar) has confiscated her husband’s credit card, and makes him give her his entire paycheque he earns as a teacher as soon as he gets it. It doesn’t help – Idris finds more and more ways to get, and lose, money. Like his father, Sinan has trained to be a teacher – there will be an exam the next week, and if he does well, he will be assigned a teaching post – perhaps in the dreaded East – but somewhere. But Sinan is convinced he is a writer. He has written a novel – called The Wild Pear Tree – but is very coy about what the novel is about. He says it refuses categorization (don’t all young authors first novels, in their mind, refuse categorization) – but it basically sounds like a bunch of short stories about the people in his home town. He is determined to get the book published – he has a friend at the printers who can help get the novel printed for a good price – but of course, he doesn’t have the money.

 

Through the course of the film, Sinan will have long conversations with people about his work, his life and what it all means. There is the Mayor, who Sinan foolishly thinks will give him the money to publish the book, but since it won’t help with tourism, why would he? The self-made man, who reads a lot, but dropped out of high school, who has very definite ideas about the types of things Sinan should write about – especially if he expects him to finance it. There is the celebrated, older author (a great performance by Serkan Keskin), who Sinan subtly, and then not so subtly, needles and insults about his own work, before finally asking for help. A pair of Imam’s. And old school mate, Hatice (Hazar Ergüçlü), who is about to marry an older, financially secure man – because isn’t that what you’re supposed to do if you’re a woman? Between these long scenes of debate and discussion, there are the home scenes, where Sinan butt’s heads with Idris, and even his mother, who is frustrated with him, but stands by him. The film never really says how much time passes, but it becomes clear near the end of the film that it is at least a few years from the beginning to the end. Through it all, Sinan seems to get worn down a little bit – the novel doesn’t really work out, the teaching career is still an option, but he hasn’t done that either. The things he has done to get money aren’t that different to what his father would do. The last sequence in the movie is a long conversation between father and son – and Sinan finally realizes their similarities.

 

The Wild Pear Tree, tellingly, doesn’t really provide any answers to the various questions it raises – the various debates at its core. At the end of the film, Sinan has to (literally) keep digging for those. Maybe he’ll never find them. Maybe he will become a celebrated artist now that he understands more. Maybe he’ll be worn down by life like his old man. Maybe something else will happen. Yes, The Wild Pear Tree is a long film – but it uses that length wisely, and this is not really an example of “slow cinema”. The film is full of words, full of ideas. It is also a beautiful film. There is never a doubt about whose work this is. While I don’t think the film quite hits the same heights as Once Upon a Time in Anatolia or Winter Sleep – it is another wonderful film by Ceylan – whose work continues to fascinate and challenge.

Movie Review: Winter Sleep

Winter Sleep
Directed by: Nuri Bilge Ceylan.
Written by: Ebru Ceylan & Nuri Bilge Ceylan.
Starring: Haluk Bilginer (Aydin), Melisa Sözen (Nihal), Demet Akbag (Necla), Ayberk Pekcan (Hidayet), Serhat Mustafa Kiliç (Hamdi), Nejat Isler (Ismail), Tamer Levent (Suavi), Nadir Saribacak (Levent), Emirhan Doruktutan (Ilyas), Ekrem Ilhan (Ekrem), Rabia Özel (Fatma), Fatma Deniz Yildiz (Sevda), Mehmet Ali Nuroglu (Timur).

Turkish director Nuri Bilge Ceylon is a director who takes his time. His last film was the brilliant Once Upon a Time in Anatolia, which ran nearly two hours and forty minutes, and was about a group of men – cops, a prosecutor, a doctor and a murderer, searching the barren but strangely beautiful countryside for a dead body- that even the man who killed him doesn’t quite remember where he put it. That film was a crime movie, but not a whodunit – we knew who from the beginning, but a whydunit – and one whose mystery deepens even in the final scene. In Once Upon a Time in Anatolia, the closer the characters looked, they less they understood. His newest film is Winter Sleep – which runs three hours and twenty minutes, much of it pure talk, and yet the film never feels overly long. It is a much different film than Once a Time in Anatolia – the portrait of an upper class man – a former actor, now a hotel proprietor named Aydin (Haluk Bilginer). He owns a beautiful mountainside hotel, and much of the houses in the surrounding towns. He believes himself to be a smart, cultured kind man – he believes everyone admires him – and is interested in what he has to say. His position in the community has afforded him a weekly newspaper column, where he holds court on whatever is bothering him that week – which he basically uses to lectures everyone else. But as much as Aydin believes he is admired, he is really hated by most – and for good reason. He’s an asshole – and it takes him until the end of the movie to fully realize this (if he ever does – which is arguable).

The movie’s inciting incident comes early, when Aydin and his employee Hidayet (Ayberk Pekcan) – who basically acts as Aydin’s muscle, playing the heavy to the tenants who don’t pay on time. They happen to be near the school when it is getting out for the day – and Aydin sees a young boy, Ilyas (Emirhan Doruktutan), glaring at him. Not long after, while driving down the street, a rock comes hurtling at the car, and breaks the shatters the passenger window. Hidayet chases down Ilyas, and the pair takes him back home – and it quickly becomes apparent why Ilyas has done what he has done. His father, Ismail (Nejat Isler), has recently been released from jail, and hasn’t found work yet. The whole family is being supported by Ismail’s brother, Hamdi (Serhat Mustafa Kiliç), a local Imam – and they are behind on the rent. The family was humiliated when a collection agency showed up on their doorstep – and took some of their possessions as payment, even after the family was assured that they would have more time. As with everything else in the movie, Aydin deflects blame for this – he doesn’t like confrontation, and lets Hidayet handle it. Later, when Hamdi comes to see Aydin personally, Aydin will once again deflect blame – he lets Hidayet and his lawyers handle this, don’t come see him again, etc. Hamdi has to be polite to Aydin – after all, he owes him money – but he clearly hates him as much as his brother and nephew do – he’s just more political about it than they are.

Aydin’s family doesn’t have to pretend to like him – although they mainly do, until the film’s middle hour. This is when two of the longest conversations in cinema history take place – the first between Aydin and his sister, Necla (Demet Akbag), which starts civilly enough, until the pair are basically hurling insults at each other. Necla questions why Aydin is writing his articles – saying that she would be embarrassed to write about things that she knew nothing about. From there, things devolve quickly. The second conversation is between Aydin and his much younger wife, Nihal (Melisa Sözen), as he belittles her, speaks to her like a child, and wants to take control of the one thing in her life that brings her any joy – any sense of freedom from him that she has. She responds, not unlike a child, with tears.

These two conversations takes up probably about an hour of running time (and a little over when you add a third, not quite as long, conversation between the two women – once again it starts civilly enough, before devolving). For much of these conversations, Ceylon keeps the camera still, and doesn’t cut for minutes on end. It is a showcase for the writing and acting – all of which is brilliant. Bilginer in particular delivers one of the best performances of the year, as he slowly strips away the layers of his character – a petty, condescending man. We learn that while he had a 25 year career as an actor, he wasn’t a particularly good one – he didn’t get all this property because he himself is a success, but because he inherited it. The film is clearly an allegory – for Turkey specifically, but has universal resonance about how the upper class often think they know what is best for everyone "beneath" them, when really they are clueless to what they are really going through.

But the film is above all a character study of Aydin, and it works brilliantly as that. The long conversations take up probably half the running time, but the rest is something much more visual, subtly showing us the man in his surrounding, and how they reflect on each other. The ending of the film perhaps shows us that Aydin has, at the very least, realized what as asshole he is – as he reaches out to try and fix his marriage. But at the same time, I'm not overly convinced he does realize it – or if he is, like his wife has accused of, simply playing another role.

Yes, Winter Sleep is a long film – which for many will seem daunting. I’m not sure when everyone decided that any film that runs over two hours was too long, but that seems to be the case. Winter Sleep earns its running time – and it never feels that long. The movie cannot be described as fast moving – but it is never less than engrossing. The film is a combination of the epic and the intimate. Yes, it is a long film, but it also perhaps Ceylon's most accessible film to date – there is a simplicity to it that works in its favor, and makes it all the more profound. This is one of the year’s best.

Movie Review: Once Upon a Time in Anatolia

Once Upon a Time in Anatolia ****
Directed by: Nuri Bilge Ceylan.
Written by: Ebru Ceylan & Nuri Bilge Ceylan & Ercan Kesal.
Starring: Muhammet Uzuner (Doctor Cemal), Yilmaz Erdogan (Commissar Naci), Taner Birsel (Prosecutor Nusret), Ahmet Mümtaz Taylan (Driver Arab Ali), Firat Tanis (Suspect Kenan), Ercan Kesal (Mukhtar), Mrol Erarslan (Murder Victim Yasar), Ugur Aslanoglu (Courthouse Driver Tevfik), Murat Kiliç (Police Officer Izzet), Safak Karali (Courthouse Clerk Abidin), Emre Sen (Sergeant Onder), Burhan Yildiz (Suspect Ramazan), Nihan Okutucu (Yasar's wife Gülnaz), Cansu Demirci (Mukhtar's Daughter Cemile), Kubilay Tunçer (Autopsy Technician Sakir).

Nuri Blige Ceylons Once Upon a Time in Anatolia is part of a growing number of crime films where the closer you look, the less you seem to know. David Fincher`s Zodiac is the best of these recent films, but Bong Joon-ho`s brilliant Memories of Murder, Cornielu Porumboiu`s Police Adjective and his countryman Cristi Puiu`s Aurora, also fit the bill nicely. While all of these films are vastly different, the one thing they share is that none of the central mysteries in them can be easily explained away. While the movies concern themselves with the details of the case, they can never explain everything about them.

Once Upon a Time in Anatolia opens on a convoy of police vehicles heading out in the hills and fields of small town Turkey at night, where they are looking for a body. The two killers have already confessed to killing the victim, so this isn’t a whodunit at all. But as they drive from one location to another – all of them look very similar to each other, the killers are never quite sure if this is where they have buried the body. Most of the action is limited to one car – where police chief Naci, two other officers, the medical examiner Cemal, and one of the confessed killers, Kenan – the one leading them from site to site – sit. They talk – about everything and nothing – and become increasingly frustrated at the lack of a body, and the time this is all taking. The eventually have to stop to eat – at the residence of a small town mayor, who uses the opportunity to try and hit up the Prosecutor, in another car, for more money. Eventually – at around the half-way point of this two and half hour long movie – the body will be discovered, and the movie then switches gears – from search to documentation.

This is a movie mainly about the men on the journey – more so than the crime or the journey itself. Eventually, three of them snap more clearly into focus – the police chief, the doctor and the prosecutor. Yet the movie never really attempts to explain all their mysteries away. Ceylon, as always, favors long shots, often in close-up, of these men thinking as they stare off into space. What are they thinking? The answer to that question changes throughout the course of the movie, or at least our perception of what that answer is, does. Women are few and far between in the movie, but their presence is felt throughout. The only woman we even see during the long search sequences is the beautiful daughter of the mayor, seen only in candlelight, as she brings tea to the men. They all stop and stare at her. Yes, she is beautiful, but there`s more than that. She represents their idea of female perfection, but also their own lost youth, and their wives when they were younger. We do not meet any of these three men`s wives, but through their words, we feel that we know them. They are all distant from their wives in one way or another – for reasons hinted at throughout the movie.

Once the body is discovered, the movie switches gears, and yet while things should become clearer through the investigation, they simply become more complicated. Miscommunication and willful lies simply serve to complicate things further. The autopsy that ends the film is sickening, not because of what is shown (very little is), but because of the sounds of bones being saw, organs being removed and examined.

Nuri Blige Ceylon has made a name for himself in the past decade with films like Distant, Climates and Three Monkeys. Stylistically similar to those earlier efforts, but far more complex, Once Upon a Time in Anatolia is his supreme achievement so far. This is one of the best films of the year.

Movie Review: Three Monkeys

Three Monkeys ***
Directed By: Nuri Bilge Ceylon.
Written By: Ebru Ceylan & Nuri Bilge Ceylan & Ercan Kesal.
Starring: Yavuz Bingol (Eyüp), Hatice Aslan (Hacer), Rifat Sungar (Ismail), Ercan Kesal (Servet), Cafer Köse (Bayram), Gürkan Aydin (The Child).

Three Monkeys is essentially an old school film noir that takes itself a little too seriously. Had this movie been made in 1940s America, you could easily see the characters being played by Robert Mitchum, Barbara Stanwyck and Edward G. Robinson. It has a classic noir setup – a politician hits a man with his car and kills him, but to avoid scandal, convinces his driver to take the rap for him, promising a big payday upon being released from jail. While the driver is in jail, the politician and the driver’s wife start to have an affair – for him it’s just a fling, for her it’s deadly serious. The son of the driver finds out, and is angry, but too paralyzed by fear to really do anything about it.

The co-writer and director of the film is Nuri Bilge Ceylan, who previous films – Distant and Climates – were also deliberately paced dramas that were at once simple and yet quietly profound. Three Monkeys is his most “pulp-y” film to date, taking elements of classic film noir, and putting them in modern day Turkey. He uses his beautiful imagery to tell the story much more than the dialogue between the characters. Each shot is perfectly chosen and composed, and there are few movies this year with as many striking images as this one does. The film is constantly shrouded in darkness, and there always seems to something separating the characters – windows, doors, jail bars etc. These are people who are unable to communicate, but even if they could, it is doubtful they would have much of interest to say to each other. The reaction of all the men in the movie seems to be to lash out with violence.

The one woman in the film is Hacer (Hatice Aslan), married to the driver Eyup (Yavuz Bingol) and mother to Ismail (Rifat Sungar). At first, she seems to be a caring wife and mother to the two, but gradually it is revealed that she really is not. Why does she sleep with the politician? It’s not like he is good looking (he is past 50, bald and chubby), and he isn’t even a powerful politician – he loses the election he fears the “scandal” will derail even without it coming out. I think she does it because no one else really enters her world, and she is lonely and bored. This is essentially a four character drama – outsiders rarely come into the picture, and when they do, they don’t really interact. The politician treats her kindly, which is more than you can say for her husband, who is gruff and uncaring, or her son, who is sullen and withdrawn. She cheats on her with the politician because there are not any other options.

The key relationships in the movie are deal are the three men with her, not between each other. Eyup and Ismail don’t really talk very much, and when they do, it’s mainly so that Eyup can yell at Ismail for being a screw-up, who cannot get into college and pays way too much for a car. Eyup and Servet, the politician, have a more typical employer-employee relationship, where Servet treats Eyup like his servant, and doesn’t think twice about betraying him with his wife, and tries to buy his silence by belittling him. Ismail doesn’t seem to talk to anyone.

But at different points in the movie all three of these men will lash out at Hacer. First, it’s Ismail, who comes home early one and hears noises coming from his mother’s bedroom. Looking through the keyhole, we can only guess what he sees – but it’s pretty clear that it’s Hacer and Servet in there. Instead of confronting them, he runs away, and comes home only after Servet has left. Ismail questions Hacer, letting herself dig herself deeper with lies, before he confronts her with what he knows (of course, not by coming out directly with it, but implying it). But even then, Ismail cannot bring himself to fully get angry – he gives her a half hearted slap, but doesn’t do anything else.

Eyup is scarier. He knows something is going on, and when Hacer’s cell phone rings one day, he answers it, and realizes that it’s his boss on the other end, saying things that he shouldn’t be saying to his wife. Like Ismail, Eyup only passively aggressively challenges Hacer on her betrayal, until he grows violent. Unlike Ismail, Eyup’s violence is much stronger, and scarier. In a scene that wanders back and forth between eroticism and violence, Eyup challenges Hacer on what she has done.

Finally, in the film’s most painful scene, Servet confronts Hacer himself. Is she trying to screw up both of their lives? Why does she keep calling and her hanging around his house? This is a scene that is least violent, because Servet never strikes Hacer, but the most emotionally painful, as Hacer throws herself at him, only to be repeatedly rejected.

The ending of Three Monkeys doesn’t really solve anything. It’s as if the entire movie is a circle, and at the end, we are only expanding the characters and the violence involved, not resolving the inner conflicts that led to them in the first place. The characters are just as screwed up – just as violent and guilty – at the end of the movie as they are at the beginning.

If there is a problem with Three Monkeys, and there is, it’s that Ceylan takes the material a little too seriously. Yes, adultery, abuse and murder are serious subjects, but Ceylan has essentially made an old school film noir, but has raised the issues to tragic proportions, which it didn’t really need. Film noir is always a nightmare – where normal people get in over their heads with sex, violence and murder – but Ceylan tries to make it all a little too real. Three Monkeys is a gorgeous film, and a quietly involving one. If it isn’t the masterwork it could have been we forgive the film its flaws because it is still quietly engrossing.