Continuing in the Turkish tradition of Nuri Bilge Ceylan,
who receives a debt of thanks in the end credits, this is a stylistically
modern film, beautifully shot by Emre Erkmen, where the centerpiece of the film
is not the characters themselves, but the home they inhabit. The Architectural
Digest style home was built by Turkish architect Hayriye Ozel, which
features a multi-story glass home with a winding staircase down the middle,
producing a Vertigo
(1958) effect. The home is situated in
Nisantasi, the upscale neighborhood of Istanbul, where its stark appearance may
as well be the leading character in the film, as it’s cool and sleek, stocked
with all the latest gadgetry, where it continuously looks so impressively clean
and sterile, and is such an impressive museum piece that it’s a shame people actually
have to live there. Can (Hakan Çimenser)
is the 50-year old successful architect who supposedly designed his own home,
while his wife Ela (Defne Halman) has an art studio on the first floor. The only way up is via the staircase, where
feet produce a clanging sound of metal that resounds throughout the house. Early on, Ela has the home phone bugged, as
she suspects her husband is cheating on her.
The film is largely an exposé on the deteriorating state of their marriage,
owing a great debt to early 60’s Antonioni films like RED DESERT (1964), which
similarly uses modern architecture juxtaposed against spectacularly hand-colored
industrial landscapes to express the neurosis and psychological alienation of
the lead character. But while Antonioni
had one of the great modern actresses in Monica Vitti, Özge’s disengaged and
overly detached characters are largely inert, expressing boredom and ennui
throughout, where luxury and wealth apparently have taken the starch out of
their humanity.
Ela is a peculiar one, as her secret ways and pained facial
expressions, often showing no expression at all, are reminiscent of Ulrich Mühe
as a 1980’s East German Stasi agent in THE LIVES OF OTHERS (2006), where it could
be the face of a secret agent or spy, as she can listen in on phone conversations
and not be detected, or it could be the result of harsh treatment, including behind-the-scenes
police torture. It comes as something of
a surprise that the cause of such personal anguish is simply marriage,
especially when both are successful enough, career-wise, to work on artistic projects
of their own choosing, which allows for a great deal of self expression. Can, however, is an opinionated and overbearing
husband with a self-righteous streak that can get on anybody’s nerves, as he
has to have things exactly his way or everyone else is wrong. It should not be surprising that neither one
of these lead characters evoke much sympathy, and therein lies the heart of the
problem. With no emotional or dramatic
connection to anyone in the film, it’s largely a stylistic exhibition. They have an idealistic college age daughter
(Gizem Akman) that Ela favors, often bringing a smile to her face, but she’s
equally spoiled and pampered, used to having the best of everything given to
her by her parents. These fractured
lives express an inexplicable emptiness, as wealth does not necessitate
happiness, where instead they largely avoid one another and never have long
conversations about anything, even art, or speak of anything of significance,
as they’ve become strangers where they’re simply too impatient to even try,
leaving long periods with no dialogue, where the film offers next to no
explanation for the root of their problems, allowing the audience to come to
their own conclusions.
Written, directed and edited by Özge, who was born in
Istanbul but lived in Berlin for more than ten years, the film does offer a
portrait of a successful woman in the middle-age period of her life, where the
male dominated, patriarchal effects of an Islamic society are largely unseen,
but perhaps felt in Ela’s constant doubts about herself. Even after a successful art exhibition, an interpersonal
light show where the audience follows Can as he immerses himself in the
ghostly color effect on bodies walking about, turned into mere shadows, as if
in a cloud, where her husband is impressed with her work, she remains plagued
by the negative comments received from her own daughter at the breakfast table
the next morning, asking why doesn’t she design things people would want to
hang on their walls? This has to
infuriorate her, as she’s most likely used to hearing that kind of comment from
shallow art connoisseurs, but from her favorite child, the one offered the best
education money can buy? This has to
hurt. While there are abrupt moments
when Ela insists she’s looking for her own apartment, supposedly leaving her
husband, the next thing we see is her husband by her side claiming they are
searching for an art studio. Who knows
what they’re really up to? The issue is
never really resolved, as they continue to avoid one another by each claiming
their own separate floor to inhabit in their home-made castle, making it easy
to avoid one another, though an apartment is chosen, an act that amusingly
bears a resemblance to Antoine Doinel in Antoine
and Colette (1962). This is a couple
that makes up their mind by never making up their minds, as the movie plods
along at a glacier pace showing precious little interaction, where little to
nothing happens, but the look of the film is impressive. The austere tone and artistic set design are
so spectacular that even with a subtext of dull and insufferably boring lives,
the film deserves merit.
