"Distant"
We watched a film last night, titled "Distant", a film shot in Istanbul with excellent Turkish actors. Very much unlike a North American film. Wish there was a more energetic distribution of these un-NA films available in the foreign films section of the local video store. Invariably, those films not shot in North America are engagingly thoughtful and provide a useful snapshot of human nature. This one did not disappoint.
I suppose it was so readily available because the distributor could boast it was the winner of the Grand Prix at Cannes in 2003, best actor (same venue) and winner of the Silver Hugo at the Chicago film festival (same year). Even the (near) home of Hollywood can recognize quality when it confronts them, hard though that may be to credit.
This is a quiet film, a studiedly-still film where the small everyday intricacies of going about one's life loom large. It has some splendidly quiet scenes of despair, an emotion that anchors the film, weighing off against the everyday comedies that visit Everyman throughout the course of a week, a day, a life.
A story of two cousins, both originally from a small village outside of Istanbul which has fallen on hard times, as the sole industrial employer has recently shut out one thousand local workers. The older of the two cousins left the town many years ago to make a place for himself as a professional photographer in the big city. The younger man, jobless and penniless, arrives in Istanbul hoping to find a job as a merchant seaman.
A temporary arrangement whereby the well-established and well-off older man agrees to permit his cousin to stay with him - a week is agreed upon as a reasonable length of time, representing the time-frame within which the young man hopes to be employed - is agreed upon. His search for employment takes him through the grimness of wharf rat hopelessness in the dead of winter.
No experience, no one to vouch for him; perhaps they'll give him an interview, a call, perhaps not. At a wharfside cafe an embittered seaman tells the young man to forget about it; even if he succeeds in finding employment with a shipping company he'll earn barely enough to live on, never enough to send back home to family. But he doggedly pursues his employment search, unwilling to believe the cautionary tale of the other man's struggle.
Meanwhile, the older cousin, houseproud to a fault, finds continual fault in the offhand manner of his cousin who doesn't seem to him to treat his personal surroundings with sufficient respect; cigarettes are not to be smoked indoors, shoes are to be placed neatly inside a cupboard, lights are to be switched off, doors kept shut. He begins to chafe at his interrupted privacy.
Little wonder, since a long winter stretches into spring and the young man still has not met with success, in the meanwhile, roaming the streets of the city, eyeing young women, incapable as a clumsy country type to casually approach them with any kind of confidence. The older man has his own demons, an ex-wife whom he insisted have an abortion because they were splitting up, now preparing to depart for a new life in Canada with her new mate.
The photographer-cousin is unable to commit to personal relationships. He seems not quite certain he doesn't care for his ex-wife. He occasionally arranges for a female acquaintance to spend the evening at his apartment for consensual, unpaid sex. An act satisfying to him but obviously unsettlingly frustrating for the woman who harbours hope of a long-term and meaningful relationship.
Both men become frustrated with the stasis of their lives; neither knows how to effect a welcome change in fortunes. They are unable to communicate in a manner that might help each other, mostly because the older man simply wants to be rid of the nuisance presence of the younger man. Their frustratingly fruitless attempts at conciliation fail.
The human dynamics played out in this simple story are absorbing and reflect our inability as human beings to open up to one another, to relax in the presence of others, to appreciate each other for what we bring to a relationship. Although there are occasional light moments and certainly moments of transcendant beauty in the natural scenes of parks, waterways, majestic steamships plying an inlet of the Bosphorus, for the most part it's a sombre film.
Made all the more so, but realistically and purposefully by the lack of background music. When all is still, no "white music" the sounds of doves, of ravens, of cars pulling out of a snowbound street, of a tiny mouse caught in a trap have a greater impact on our consciousness. The significance of words and impressions are not lost to the leading impact of unneeded background drama.
In the same token the stillness of the background, the confident portrayals of the actors (the older cousin has the unfortunate likeness of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad) lead one along in a manner similar to the reading of a well-written novel where one draws one's own conclusions, uses one's imagination to fill in the blank spots.
This one gets full marks.
I suppose it was so readily available because the distributor could boast it was the winner of the Grand Prix at Cannes in 2003, best actor (same venue) and winner of the Silver Hugo at the Chicago film festival (same year). Even the (near) home of Hollywood can recognize quality when it confronts them, hard though that may be to credit.
This is a quiet film, a studiedly-still film where the small everyday intricacies of going about one's life loom large. It has some splendidly quiet scenes of despair, an emotion that anchors the film, weighing off against the everyday comedies that visit Everyman throughout the course of a week, a day, a life.
A story of two cousins, both originally from a small village outside of Istanbul which has fallen on hard times, as the sole industrial employer has recently shut out one thousand local workers. The older of the two cousins left the town many years ago to make a place for himself as a professional photographer in the big city. The younger man, jobless and penniless, arrives in Istanbul hoping to find a job as a merchant seaman.
A temporary arrangement whereby the well-established and well-off older man agrees to permit his cousin to stay with him - a week is agreed upon as a reasonable length of time, representing the time-frame within which the young man hopes to be employed - is agreed upon. His search for employment takes him through the grimness of wharf rat hopelessness in the dead of winter.
No experience, no one to vouch for him; perhaps they'll give him an interview, a call, perhaps not. At a wharfside cafe an embittered seaman tells the young man to forget about it; even if he succeeds in finding employment with a shipping company he'll earn barely enough to live on, never enough to send back home to family. But he doggedly pursues his employment search, unwilling to believe the cautionary tale of the other man's struggle.
Meanwhile, the older cousin, houseproud to a fault, finds continual fault in the offhand manner of his cousin who doesn't seem to him to treat his personal surroundings with sufficient respect; cigarettes are not to be smoked indoors, shoes are to be placed neatly inside a cupboard, lights are to be switched off, doors kept shut. He begins to chafe at his interrupted privacy.
Little wonder, since a long winter stretches into spring and the young man still has not met with success, in the meanwhile, roaming the streets of the city, eyeing young women, incapable as a clumsy country type to casually approach them with any kind of confidence. The older man has his own demons, an ex-wife whom he insisted have an abortion because they were splitting up, now preparing to depart for a new life in Canada with her new mate.
The photographer-cousin is unable to commit to personal relationships. He seems not quite certain he doesn't care for his ex-wife. He occasionally arranges for a female acquaintance to spend the evening at his apartment for consensual, unpaid sex. An act satisfying to him but obviously unsettlingly frustrating for the woman who harbours hope of a long-term and meaningful relationship.
Both men become frustrated with the stasis of their lives; neither knows how to effect a welcome change in fortunes. They are unable to communicate in a manner that might help each other, mostly because the older man simply wants to be rid of the nuisance presence of the younger man. Their frustratingly fruitless attempts at conciliation fail.
The human dynamics played out in this simple story are absorbing and reflect our inability as human beings to open up to one another, to relax in the presence of others, to appreciate each other for what we bring to a relationship. Although there are occasional light moments and certainly moments of transcendant beauty in the natural scenes of parks, waterways, majestic steamships plying an inlet of the Bosphorus, for the most part it's a sombre film.
Made all the more so, but realistically and purposefully by the lack of background music. When all is still, no "white music" the sounds of doves, of ravens, of cars pulling out of a snowbound street, of a tiny mouse caught in a trap have a greater impact on our consciousness. The significance of words and impressions are not lost to the leading impact of unneeded background drama.
In the same token the stillness of the background, the confident portrayals of the actors (the older cousin has the unfortunate likeness of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad) lead one along in a manner similar to the reading of a well-written novel where one draws one's own conclusions, uses one's imagination to fill in the blank spots.
This one gets full marks.
Labels: Miscellaneous
posted by Pieface @ 4:33 PM
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