The hard work of marriage!

Winter Sleep (Kis uykusu, Turkish; 2014)
Director: Nuri Bilge Ceylan

https://www.amazon.com.au/Winter-Sleep-Movie/
dp/B00PULVVWU

This is a lengthy film, prompting one to ponder what message it aims to convey. Is it the strained relationship between the protagonist and his much younger wife? The main character is Aydin, a retired (failed) actor who has retreated to a bitterly cold part of the country to manage a small hotel that is predominantly out of business during winter. He also owns a few rental properties in the area. He regularly writes in an online column, sharing his observations of the world around him and offering veiled sarcasm to no one in particular. 

Since he examines everything critically, much like an outsider would, is he being a snob? Is he condescending towards the poor or to those who believe in God? At least, that is how the young wife, Nihal, perceives it. She is exasperated by the fact that she is toiling away in the cold rather than in Istanbul, where things are lively. Also staying with them is Aydin's estranged sister, who has separated from her abusive alcoholic husband but now yearns for the good old days with him. 

A few things unfold along the way concerning a hostile tenant and a suspicious donor in Nihal's donation campaign. These events shape Aydin's outlook on life, particularly after both his wife and sister make unpleasant remarks about him during different conversations. This is how the story goes…

It is said that the union of marriage involves sharing and giving. Initially, it is 'what's mine is yours, and what's yours is mine.’ It begins as a compromise. No one seeks to dominate the other; rather, they work hand in hand and shoulder to shoulder to ensure that this esteemed institution remains intact. 

Then, it becomes, 'what's mine is mine, and what's yours is yours.' The promise of a joint venture to ensure the continuity of species begins to develop tiny cracks. The fear of being dominated and sidelined for self-interest begins to creep in. Perhaps something has been brewing under the radar surreptitiously. The innate fear of being taken for a fool also seeps in.

That is when all shields begin to rise. What is yours is mine, and what is mine is mine, becomes the renewed mantra. As the inner realisation unfolds and the affairs of the world serve as a guiding light, paranoia sets in. Terms such as gaslighting and secrecy will be introduced into the arena. 

Marriages are not made in heaven, but the institution is chiselled out on Earth. It takes a lot of hard work, and hands do get dirty. 

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See, Hear and Speak No Evil!

Three monkeys (Üç Maymun, Turkish; 2008)
Director: Nuri Bilge Ceylan

The original three wise monkeys, often seen in pop culture, probably originated in Buddhist culture and reached Japan through Buddhist missionaries. The monkeys embody the principle of "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil." They also have names: Mizaru, Kikazaru, and Iwazaru.

MK Gandhi received a token of the three monkeys from a Japanese well-wisher. A larger representation is displayed in his memorial in Ahmedabad, Sabarmati Ashram. Gandhi's moniker, which spirals around non-violence, passive resistance, and satyagraha, syncs well with what these monkeys are trying to say. Are they?

When we say we do not want to see, hear, or speak evil, do we mean we want to view and consume things that are good, only good? Nature, in its all primitive form, can be an evil creature. The wrath of Nature has no boundaries. The natural forces of Nature bring us blessings in their own way, but they care for two hoots for people and live beings in their path. One good thing may be devastating the other. A freak thunderstorm in the middle of spring is a catastrophic event to rice harvesters and a nightmare to fishermen, but it is a boon to others. Those who lose out in this terrestrial sorcery are mere collateral damage. 

Fellow human beings can be equally evil, maybe for survival, place or dominance. It is all around us. Are we just going to see through the evil, shut our ears from injustices and not speak against tyranny? Just look away? Run away from it all to live in a world of make-believe world of no evil? 

Or does it mean that we should strive to create a world where there is no evil if anyone turns around to see, listen, smell or whatnot? For that, we should 'think evil'. Left to their own devices, I do not think anyone will want to do anything evil. It is the circumstance and desperation that leads him to this. Above all, one should have the wisdom to identify and refrain from evil. Then, there will be nothing to see, hear or speak. In the Analects of Confucius, a fourth monkey, Sezaru, propagates 'do no evil'. It is seen covering its genitals with its hands.

Another version of 3 monkeys
"Hear, see, and speak out loud
for what you stand for."

I discovered this Turkish director who has been telling simple stories with picturesque cinematography and thought-provoking themes. This is one of them. 

An up-and-coming politician accidentally hits someone with his car while driving in an isolated countryside late one dark night. The victim dies on the spot. He asks his driver to take the blame, as admitting his crime would jeopardise the politician's career. The driver and his family are promised a fat remuneration for his sacrifice. The driver goes to jail for a year.

The monthly money comes on time, but the driver's wife and the politician start an affair. Somehow, the driver's late teenage son discovers their clandestine activity. The son is now in a dilemma. Should he just let it pass or punish the politician with malice. Is this way he pays back the man who carried his blame?

Meanwhile, the politician loses his election. The driver completes his sentence and is released. Even though the politician wants to end their affair, the driver's wife is helplessly in love with her lover. The three monkeys are in a fix: the driver senses something is wrong, the politician cannot get the monkey off his back, and the son is angry. Meanwhile, the politician is murdered.

The driver comes to know from the police that his wife is having an affair with the politician. The son confesses to the driver that he killed the politician. Just as his boss did, the driver got a poor fakir from the mosque to be the fall guy and take the blame for the murder.

We can talk all we want about the three wise monkeys, but the present world seems to warrant the fourth monkey. Sezaru, the fourth monkey, has been looking the other way for so long. It is about time Sezaru stops the violence that embodies our world. With such laxity and laissez-faire attitude on sexual behaviours these days, is it not necessary for Sezaru to be shown with his hands covering his genitalia or covering his nose to denote the stench that is enveloping our civilisation?

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Nothing is important?

About Dry Grasses (Turkish, 2023)

Director: Nuri Bilge Ceylan

According to the movie, that is what we are: the dry grasses seen paving the hillside over Eastern Turkey as the frost melts at the start of spring. They look lovely, adding a hue to the mundane colour of nature. Walking over the hill, we step over the grass as they give us a grip on the ground. We do not bother about the grass. They are insignificant. They serve a purpose to their existence, which is not apparent to us. The dry die only to be replaced by the next generation only to whither away, yet again.

Is that symbolism of human existence here on Earth? We think very highly of ourselves, that we are indispensable, that our existence means a lot, or perhaps we are God's answer to mankind's problems. We fail to understand that, like the dry grass on the hill, our presence is temporary. Like many before us, we will disappear away one day, often forgotten by annals of time. All the seemingly big problems we are embroiled in are insignificant in the greater scheme of things. All the jealousy, ill feelings, shame, power balance and intellectual mediocrity that bog down our day-to-day living will all disappear one day.

What, then, is the purpose of all these? That is the question humans have been asking since time immemorial.

This Turkish slow movie narrates just that in a convoluted way that lasts three hours, but not in a draggy way. The protagonist gets embroiled in many life indecisions, troubles, animosities, and hardships, but all appear not so crucial later in his life.

The film is set in the remote and coldest part of East Turkey in the height of winter. If the teeth-chattering cold is not bad enough, there is a lack of economic activity and disturbances from the Kurd rebels.

Samet, who considers himself a dedicated school teacher, drags himself grudgingly back to school in the thick snow. He cannot wait to return to Istanbul after completing his compulsory rural posting.

Where's the line between care and inappropriate?

He is an art teacher who takes great care of the welfare of his adolescent students, unlike the other teachers in the school who run down their students, or so he thought. In the movie, we can see that Samet is quite pally with his students, perhaps too pally and touchy sometimes, bordering on a teacher's inappropriate behaviour. 

 All that came crashing down one day when the headmaster did a classroom spot-check and discovered a love letter in one of a female student's schoolbags. Samet tries to save the day by intercepting the letter. He thought he was doing something good for the student, but instead, the student accused him and his roommate of inappropriate behaviour of the teacher.

The movie is not so much about the high psychological drama of addressing the issue of teacher burnout or paedophilia. The complaint is tackled amicably by the school. Nevertheless, Samet is devastated. He and his roommate start questioning their whole life purpose, dedication, and hardships they have endured throughout life. At the same time, Samet is introduced to a young, pretty schoolteacher. She has her sad story, surviving a terrorist's bomb blast but losing her leg. However, she is optimistic about life and lives on her own terms. Samet introduces her to his roommate, thinking he would find her fascinating. Samet starts developing feelings for the teacher when he sees them romantically linked.

The rest of the movie is about these three people resolving their issues as Samet prepares to get his transfer out of the school back to the big town.

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Like a 'turn-turtled' tortoise?

Kasaba (The Small Town, Turkish; 1997)

Director: Nuri Bilge Ceylan

 When we were young, we were told this and that. We were given the impression that if we followed that prescribed path, everything would be okay. Do not stray away from that, and all will be alright. Nobody told us about the shifting goalposts and the unforeseen variables. Our parents wanted us to be a level better than them. That kind of reinforced upon us that they were an embarrassment. We did not want to be anything else but a mould of them. We strive and strive. Still, in the end, like it or not, we would end up thinking of them, thinking like them and repeating all the things they once told and found nonsensical.

Nature has other plans. A mishap here and a liaison with the wrong company there. It is mindboggling what disastrous effect a dead parent or a disappearing parent has on the children. Even political turmoil or a natural catastrophe may upset the children's path to adulthood. Little things like the company we keep may alter the trajectory of our lives. Little decisions made at the spur of the moment or even much deliberation can have unexpected outcomes. It is what it is, and it is not in the best interest to brood about life that could have been. Instead, we should try to maximise the rut that we are in. 

This slow-moving story lays down just that. It is centred around a family sitting around a fire roasting corn and opening up about their respective lives. They have a problem with the lack of opportunities in the small village. What starts with the children wanting to hear stories snowballs into something big. The elders bemoan the hardship endured in their lives. One of the younger men feels slighted. He is probably having PTSD after serving in the Army. He just cannot get himself back on his feet again. In his youth, he just wanted to get the hell out of his village. Now, it seems he cannot get himself out. Another, despite his high overseas academic qualifications, wastes his time in the village. 

Ironically, everyone wants to go out far and wide to explore the world, but in their silver years, they return to their hometown to spend their remaining and die to be buried among their loved ones.

Even though we fantasise about our childhood as innocent, carefree and stress-free, the reality is far from it. Children can be pretty nasty. The vile that comes out from their mouth can be quite caustic. Not all of their actions can be viewed as adorable and cute. Many are bullies and can be physical with no remorse. To top it up, he will eventually not be punished for their actions. The people receiving their maleficence will just have to pick themselves up and grow some fortitude.

The presentation also includes many eye-catching black-and-white photographs of the Turkish countryside and many interesting still shots. 

Many of us turn out alright, escaping the hardship that befell our parents and the ones before them. Some are not so lucky. They are like the upturned tortoise in the movie. The 'turn turtle' tortoise in this arrested state is a metaphor for being stuck in a situation, struggling but just unable to rescue himself from his predicament.

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Pay for the sins of their fathers?

Once Upon a Time in Anatolia 

(Turkish, Bir Zamanlar Anadolu’da; 2011)

Director: Nuri Bilge Ceylan

Imagine standing out on a hill in the wild on a dark moonless night. You notice a row of moving lights. From its movement, you can guess that it is a moving train. You cannot imagine where it came from and where it is going. Soon you get a complete cacophony of sounds, the chugging of its engine, the bellowing of its high-pitched whistle that pierces the silence of the night and its belching of smoke. When it is nearer, you watch it intently, swerving and crawling. All your pleasant memories of your train travel flash right before you. As the train rapidly manifests, the stream of trains disappears behind the mountains equally swiftly right under your watch. You are left wondering what happened to the passengers, staff and the train itself. What baggage does each of them carry? What bitter-sweet experiences did each of them live to tell?

This one exciting movie defines what cinematography is all about. The creative use of light and darkness, long shorts and tight shorts and whatever it takes to give a memorable, long-lasting impression of the movie. Even a blurred view from a frosted glass appears so poetic.

The story is phenomenal. It is a simple story with no heroes. Everybody is a nobody with only one mission in their mind. Everybody is in a hurry to finish their work and return to their respective lives, which may not be hunky-dory. It is their responsibility to do what they have to do as how their fathers did in their jobs and family lives. Sometimes in their careers, they ask themselves what they are actually doing in their day to day, their actions and inactions in a rather philosophical way. 

Three cars are seen moving in the cloak of darkness at the edge of a district in Anatolia. It is the wild country where might speaks louder than compassion and logic. Animals and even people fight to survive. Violence is expressed to prove a point. The cars carry some police personnel, a doctor, a prosecutor, a couple of general workers, an army man and a pair of brothers who confessed to a murder. The team is out there to retrieve the dead body.

The elder of the two brothers cannot pinpoint exactly where he dumped his victim as he was inebriated during the crime. They go on a wild goose chase, to which the overworked policemen put their frustrations on the convicts by giving them a good beating.

Slowly, the background of the characters comes to the fore. 

The investigating police officer must juggle between his never-ending job and managing his chronically ill son.

The doctor is a divorcee after 2 years of marriage. Obviously, he still misses her. The reason for their break-up is not revealed. Though he is a pacifist, he is caught with the band of the rough company at work. 

The only person who can keep all the men under control is the prosecutor. He uses his charm and experience dealing with criminals to rein them in. His intellect makes him able to converse with the doctor.

The prosecutor tells of a peculiar case where a lady predicted her exact date of death; five months after her delivery. It turns out to be his wife, we are told later. She was assumed to have had a heart attack, and that was it - an unprecedented unexplainable power to predict her own's death. When the doctor prodded further to suggest whether suicide was ever considered a possibility, the prosecutor laughed it off. Then it dawned upon him. The prosecutor was engaged in a short fling when his wife was pregnant. It was discovered by his wife, and the doctor proposed that she could have taken her own life after delivering at the same time punishing her husband. It all made sense to the prosecutor as digoxin was available in their household. Her father took digoxin for a heart ailment. 

The entourage stops for a rest at a local mayor's bungalow. Here, we are told that the mayor's biggest problem is not having a morgue to store dead bodies so that the deceased's family from overseas can visit before the burial. Talk about priority when frequent blackouts are not a big problem. How can maintain a mortuary without electricity?

In one scene, the mayor's angelic-looking daughter brings in tea. She mesmerises everyone with her beauty. The agitated men with only one thing on their minds suddenly swayed away. Are the storytellers suggesting that the presence of females is distracting men from their purposes in their lives?

The doctor faces a dilemma when the body is eventually found, and the postmortem is completed. The body was probably buried alive - earth was found in the trachea, not killed before concealing the body. If the cause of death was written as asphyxia, not a fractured skull, as was also found, it would just prolong the anger. The victim's son would avenge his father's death. The doctor thought we should bury the truth. Was he doing the right thing or doing a disservice? We are left to wonder?

The final take-home message must surely be this. We are the by-products of our father's actions. Subsequently, our progenies prosper or suffer because of our actions or inactions. Now, the question is, who is out there keeping count of our merits and demerit points and executing what is due to us?

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