Often during this project I’ve been torn between my desire to dabble in curious, adventurous cinematic pursuits and the necessity of completing this project in a timely manner, with the latter requiring a bit more discipline and focus than the former. For Türkiye, I’ll lean more towards the objective of completion as I return to the foolproof strategy of revisiting a film that I had previously watched once before. While I certainly enjoyed Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s third feature film enough to want to watch it again, I still wonder how much different my reaction will be the second time around. This becomes an even more intriguing query when there’s a substantial amount of time between viewings. The film itself doesn’t change in the interim, only the viewer of such work. Theoretically I could critique any film once every 10 years and each critique may develop into something completely different. The biggest difference for this visit is that I’m going in with the prior knowledge of the sudden and tragic death of one of its starring performers. I suspect that this may lead me to see the film in a darker, more bittersweet light.
In any case the first time that anyone in the US got the chance to see this film was in March of 2004 when New Yorker Films initially put it into theaters. It had a surprisingly long theatrical run before New Yorker released a DVD of the film one year later. I’ve encountered a New Yorker film in this series before and if you recall the company has incurred some dark times over the last decade and is currently in a state that one might classify as ‘virtually defunct’. Due to such troubles, the price to pay for a copy of the New Yorker release online at sites like Amazon and Ebay is very exorbitant. As for libraries, there was only one public library within a 20 mile radius of where I live that was holding a copy. Granted within a 40 mile radius there were 16 libraries total. You can also rent this out from Facets, but again since this is a title from an unstable distributor they classify it as ‘rare’ and will charge you more to borrow it. The streaming options for this film are for the most part non-existent.
The film opened with a still shot of a man walking across a snow covered field up until the point where he was essentially standing in front of the camera. This sequence immediately established a characteristic that would appear quite often in the film and that was the astounding quality of the framing and staging of the shots. Often there was a picturesque beauty to the imagery, with the film capturing a snow blanketed Istanbul in a manner that was remarkably indelible. Such shots often contained some thematic depth as well, as seen in the shot of the broken chain latch and of the wrecked, unsalvageable ship which cast Yusuf’s quest in a distinctly inauspicious light. There was also plenty of quality to be seen with the indoor imagery. One of my favorite shots in the film was the split view of both Mahmut’s desk and the outdoor balcony. The dichotomy seen here between a character who was preoccupied with his life’s work within the relative comfort of his home and another character who was left to stand outside in the cold and stare vacantly at the world, subtly yet effectively established the thematic qualities of each character.
The use of motion with these shots was also good but used sparingly. In fact I got the impression from this film that when you can frame a shot extremely well you don’t really need to incorporate a lot of motion into the camerawork. For instance when Mahmut inadvertently stepped on the mouse glue strip, the camera stayed fixed for the entire process in which he replaced the strip and walked away with a shopping bag covering his bare foot, and yet this scene didn’t really suffer from a lack of detail in the exposition. I also thought the heavy use of static shots better supported a narrative that featured people struggling to cope with a period of tense inactivity in their lives. The lack of motion in the camerawork was perhaps in harmony with the lack of movement in the lives of the characters. Granted this notion did led me to despise the backwards moving trolley shot. Outside of any specific context I think this was an interesting shot, but here the vibrant motion of the sequence felt oddly out of place within the overall cinematographic approach. To me it was the only discordant note that the filmmakers struck in making Uzak.
Further supporting the motif of stasis was the sparse use of a proper soundtrack which at times allowed the viewer to hear the creaks and moans of a hardwood floor whenever a character would walk on it, which is a quality that I really like. Such an auditory nuance added an additional layer of realism and familiarity that enabled one to really absorb themselves into the film. And the filmmakers often found the perfect balance with their shot lengths which allowed a certain level of immersion from the viewer without overstaying their welcome. In spite of a narrative that didn’t really go anywhere the pace was not as plodding as it could’ve been. It should also be noted that many of the film’s scenes were staged in residences, bars, restaurants and other places of refuge which gave the film a comfortable, congenial feel that made it all the more inviting. The film also employed a good mix of moderately distant perspectives that showed off the location of the story, with intimate shots that placed more focus on its excellent acting.
The latter was none more true than in the scene between Mahmut and his ex-wife Nazan, played by Zuhal Gencer, who did an excellent job of displaying the somber regret of their failed marriage. Her performance nicely fit the overall template of the film in that it was subtle, understated, and yet surprisingly expressive in regards to the physical acting. The physical, emotional acting of the performers was so demonstrative that you really didn’t need much dialogue in the film, which was especially true in the case of Mehmet Emin Toprak’s brilliant performance as Yusuf. For instance in the scene where Yusuf hung out with Mahmut’s friends you really got a good sense of how awkward and out of place the character felt. During the short scene between Yusuf and the female neighbor, Toprak did a great job of capturing his character’s social ineptitude. Here Yusuf’s timidness at breaking the ice was unmistakable, and given the way that Toprak had previously played the character during his clumsy, aimless daytime ventures through Istanbul, the awkward, silent tension of this meeting felt perfect. Often Toprak would assuredly display the vulnerability and helplessness of the character. And this was not to say that the performance was all boring, dead-pan, sorrowful stuff. During an early scene in which Yusuf accidentally set off a car alarm, Toprak showed great skill at performing a more light-hearted, comedic moment with great charm and personality. The emotional complexity of the character was performed in a very natural, genuine manner that really allowed one to understand the character better with everything that Toprak did.
Muzaffer Özdemir in the role Mahmut also did a solid job during a rare comedic moment, which made me ponder about whether or not this film could have worked as a comedy. In contrast to Toprak, Özdemir was far more stoic and reserved. His behavior came across as more deliberate and thoughtful as seen during his rather striking eye-roll before his climatic confrontation with Yusuf. In the proceeding scene Özdemir was absolutely superb in his berating of Yusuf for his youthful imprudence. Such an encounter had already been brilliantly supported by Özdemir’s subtle yet discernible behavior. For instance I liked how slightly agitated Mahmut got at Yusuf during their photo shoot at the mosque. This film was incredibly well constructed in showing moments like this which efficiently developed the characters. Another such moment was the sequence between the two characters that chronicled Mahmut’s late night TV viewing habits. In this scene Özdemir was remarkably casual and effortless in how he expressed what a nuisance Yusuf’s presence had become to Mahmut. Toprak’s feeble laughter here in an attempt to make a connection with Mahmut offered an additional great touch to the scene. While some may complain about how boring such a sequence was, I was struck by how real and relatable this exchange felt. It effectively showed the strained dynamics between the characters which ultimately progressed towards a decent payoff later in the film. The acting did a splendid job in telling the film’s narrative.
Granted, there wasn’t much of a story to tell here. I suppose one could interpret the story as being about a tumultuous multi-week period in the life of a professional photographer as he dealt with a series of family crises. The film wisely spent most of its time on the most interesting of these predicaments, that being the visit of Mahmut’s distant cousin who embarked on a near hopeless, slipshod search for gainful employment. Even here the film largely took the form of a character study of people who were such social misfits that loneliness seemed embedded within their identity. Even in the presence of others, they could come across as socially distant and alienated to the point where striking up a conversation seemed contrary to who they were.
Although what I found interesting about this film was that only one character seemed to be truly suffering from his personal loneliness. Yusuf was seen as an impressible, carefree, yet naive and guileless youth who had to slowly accept the harsh truth regarding his superfluous status in the modern world. His loneliness was derived from him not having a proper place in the world and from a sense of social rejection. Mahmut by contrast, appeared to have chosen his current state of isolation, which may have been a consequence of a turbulent marriage that ended badly. Unlike Yusuf he could take refuge in his professional ambitions which allowed him to cope. Furthermore he never seemed all that pleased with Yusuf’s company and the longer the film progressed the more Mahmut expressed the truth that the only fate worse than loneliness is time spent with a troublesome acquaintance. The tension between the two characters was well crafted and progressed exquisitely. There’s also an interesting generational divide between the two characters which perhaps broadened the appeal of the film. I’ve probably reached the point in my life where I identify more with Mahmut, although I can still sympathize with Yusuf. The structure of the narrative was also interesting in that for Mahmut it ended the same way as it began, following Yusuf’s mysterious disappearance which currently feels far more haunting than what the filmmakers had probably initially intended. The film seemed to suggest that no matter what life threw at him, Mahmut would always return to a world of social isolation. This film didn’t seem like much at first, but it surprised me with how beautifully conceived and executed it was. It was an excellent film that’s definitely worth watching and revisiting.