Download do filme Torrent e Legenda:

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=86LZDEW4

Sem dúvida um dos filmes mais desconcertantes que eu vi esse ano. A fotografia amarelada, trilha sonora incisiva, e um roteiro magnífico sobre uma relação familiar cortante e doída. Não tenho nem muito o que descrever…a melhor sensação mesmo é provar desse trabalho turco notório!

شنیده بودم که نوری بیلگه جیران را می‌شود کیارستمی ترکیه به شمار آورد٬ اما امروز که «سه میمون»ش را دیدم احساس کردم که چنین قیاسی بی‌انصافی در حق نوری بیلگه است. طبق گفته‌ی آگاهان٬ این فیلم کم و بیش با فیلم‌های قبلی‌اش متفاوت است و شاید بعد از دیدن فیلم‌های دیگرش قدری نظرم عوض شود٬ ولی «سه میمون» بی شک یکی از بهترین فیلم‌هایی است که دیده‌ام و دیدنش را به همه توصیه می‌کنم.
فیلم داستانی نسبتا سر راست دارد٬ که به روشی غیر سر راست گفته می‌شود و به روشی غیر سر راست هم شخصیت‌ها را می‌پردازد. ماجرای یک بار خیانت یک زن به شوهرش است که اما در کلافی پیچیده از سرخوردگی‌های یک زن خاورمیانه‌ای و فرهنگ مردسالار و همچنین احساس مسئولیت این مادر در قبال فرزندش گره می‌خورد. پدر خانه بدون اینکه در واقع خیلی حق انتخابی داشته باشد به خاطر موفقیت سیاسی رییسش به زندان می‌رود و مادر از آن طرف برای جلوگیری از سرخوردگی هر چه بیشتر پسرش که در کنکور مردود شده و اینک هم با غیبت پدر رو به روست٬ حاضر می‌شود تن به معشوق دهد تا او در عوض برای پسرش یک خودرو به عنوان وسیله‌ی معاش بخرد. اما این هدف اولیه بعد از اولین معاشقه به یادآوری خواسته‌های مدفون شده‌ی زن می‌انجامد که رابطه‌ی او با شوهرش همواره از او دریغ داشته.

فضای داستان از ابتدا تا انتها مبهم و تامل برانگیز است. شخصیت‌های فیلم تمام مدت زیر ذره‌بین بیننده قرار دارند بی آنکه بشود واقعا کسی را مقصر دانست. ضرب‌آهنگ نسبتا کند فیلم تمام حواس بیننده را می‌گیرد٬ چون تقریبا تمام صحنه‌ها حاوی یک اتفاق و مقداری اطلاعات هستند. از طرف دیگر نوری بیلگه به عنوان یک عکاس حرفه‌ای در اکثر صحنه‌ها چشم بیننده را به صفحه‌ی نمایش می‌دوزد. نه فقط به خاطر اینکه استانبول خیلی زیباست٬ بلکه به خاطر توانایی چشم‌گیر نوری بیلگه در پردازش رنگ‌ها و کادرها٬ صحنه‌های فیلم خود به تنهایی دنیایی دارند.

فیلم به مذهب و سیاست به طور هم‌زمان و به عنوان موجودیت‌هایی مشابه پوزخند می‌زند. وقتی پسر متوجه خیانت مادرش می‌شود و او را گیر می‌اندازد٬ به طور لحظه‌ای نقش پدر را می‌گیرد و چند سیلی متوالی به مادرش می‌زند. در همین هنگام است که صدای اذان در پس‌زمینه شنیده می‌شود که به نظرم یکی از جالب‌ترین سمبل‌های فیلم است. و یک بار دیگر که مادر برای دیدار معشوق می‌رود٬ باز صدای اذان شنیده می‌شود. فیلم پر است از چنین کنایه‌ها و نمادهایی.

صحنه‌ی پایانی فیلم بی‌نظیر است. لانگ شات مرد که تنها و کاملا گیج و مغشوش بر پشت بام ایستاده و آسمان و دریا چشم را خیره می‌کنند. صدای باران تا تیتراژ باقی می‌ماند و کم کم کمرنگ می‌شود. معرکه است. بسیار توصیه می‌شود. همه‌ی داستان و اتفاقات مهم را لو نداده‌ام. ببینید.

A propos de : Nuri Bilge CEYLAN, « Climats » (« Iklimler »), avec Ebru Ceylan et Nuri Bilge Ceylan – Turquie, France, 2006, (DVD : Imagine, durée 101’)

S’il subsiste encore quelque trace d’ambiguïté dans leur comportement, il est déjà trop tard. Un à un défilent l’ennui, la tristesse, l’agacement, la contrainte – exacerbation du quotidien. Pour son troisième long métrage, après Uzak et Nuages de Mai, Nuri Bilge Ceylan met en scène, avec son épouse, la fiction de leur rupture. S’agissant, au cinéma, de couples qui se filment ou se laissent filmer, on pense entre autres à Eyes wide shut, Kubrick malmenant le ménage hollywoodien le plus médiatisé de l’époque ou, dans un registre très différent, à La Fidélité de Żuławski,  ultimes sursauts hystériques de son mariage avec une actrice française. Les exemples sont nombreux, mais ces deux extrêmes illustrent clairement ce que Climats n’est pas, à savoir ni contrepoint ironique ni  dramatisation outrée d’une relation « vraie ».  On ne trouvera ici que réserve et pudeur. Ceylan pratique un cinéma « en négatif », laissant l’œuvre se former à partir du vide que ses contours dénudent, vide sur lequel l’autofiction renchérit à son tour. Entre l’acteur et le personnage réside un espace a priori vacant, que le cinéma sonde ou refoule. Dans l’autofiction, le décalage est le lieu et le sujet : s’y inscrit le poids d’un vécu dont la matière reste cachée, l’image expose un corps signifiant aliéné à la fiction. Cette ambivalence donne en retour une densité particulière aux regards, aux silences. Et cela suffit. Il faut comprendre qu’en dehors de cette profondeur implicite, il ne se passe rien, il ne se dit rien. Le film se découpe en trois parties, trois lieux, trois saisons. L’été, la mer, le malaise immédiatement perceptible, un éclat bref, puis la rupture. L’automne, la ville, la séparation effective, une autre femme. L’hiver, la neige – des regrets ? – peut-être la reconstruction, peut-être la fin tout simplement… Au sens strict du terme, ce n’est pas une tragédie, ce n’est même pas une « histoire ». Certes, la structure en trois actes porte à croire que la situation évolue. Il doit même être possible de lire les différentes parties dans le désordre, tant elles s’enlisent dans une morne équivalence. Nuri Bilge Ceylan ne fait pas du théâtre… pas plus qu’il ne s’emploie à dépeindre la société turque, à expliciter la condition de la femme, le statut des intellectuels. Ces éléments, s’ils interviennent ça et là, n’ont que la vocation d’apporter quelques touches d’ambiance, insignifiantes et disparates, sur une toile volontairement floue, imprécise. Loin des faux semblants psychologiques, de la critique sociale et même du journal intime, Climats retient de la rupture ce moment vague, qui s’étire lamentablement, la béance de la blessure ouverte qui ne cicatrise pas. En faisant table rase des contingences –  détails d’intimité, règlements de compte, anecdotes, flash-back – Nuri Bilge Ceylan réalise une épure de la banalité. Favorisant l’identification plutôt que l’interprétation (les faits sont là, ça ne s’explique pas, ça se vit),  le minimalisme de Nuri Bilge Ceylan ne prétend qu’à rendre sensible la durée de la séparation, le temps qu’il faut pour défaire. Les climats, insubstanciels, sont l’émotion des paysages.

Nuri Bilge CEYLAN, « Climats » (« Iklimler »), avec Ebru Ceylan et Nuri Bilge Ceylan  (VC0608)

Précédemment : Convulsions de l’être désaffecté (Les Trois Singes)

Filmographie de Nuri Bilge Ceylan

There is nothing more disorienting than a film that turns on its head everything you have been expecting to see.  After reading the reviews, I thought Three Monkeys (Nuri Bilge Ceylan, 2007) was going to be a bleak, arty picture with plenty of moody storm clouds and silent agony.  I was prepared to be bored – I wasn’t prepared to be scared.

After hitting a man on a lonely road one night, Servet (Ercan Kesal), an up and coming politician enlists his employee Eyüp (Yavuz Bingöl) to take the fall.  It’s election time, and Servet doesn’t want a scandal.  Eyüp accepts the promise of a payment and goes to jail.  However, his son Ismail (Ahmet Rıfat Şungar) is in trouble – coming home after a bloody fight, Ismail bullies his mother into asking for the money in advance, while Eyüp is still in jail.  Hacer (Hatice Aslan) gets the money, and begins an affair with Servet.  Eyüp gets out of jail, and Servet dumps Hacer.  Ismail kills Servet, and Eyüp becomes the mirror of Servet, offering a migrant waiter a payout to take the blame for the murder.  Yes, it’s uplifting stuff.

About a third of the way through the film, the hot-headed Ismail slumps on his bed.  He suspects Hacer is having an affair.  Pushed to the edge of the frame, he sulks, and the desaturated room broods with him.  Outside, the midday sun is bright, the contrast making the sliver of world going on through the open doorway nothing but a small rectangle of light.  Then through this haze of sunshine, the outline of a small black figure emerges.  The figure has thin spindly legs and twig like arms, like the little stick boy.  I’m terrified of the little stick boy.

I watched this shadowy figure move slowly toward the room.  My arms prickled.  I said to Cadillac, ‘what’s that over there?’  It was eerie, the way horror movies desperately want to be, but usually fail because the audience, wanting to be frightened, is expecting too much.  The body was too small to simply be an adult in the distance, it was definitely a child’s body, but so far there hadn’t been any children in the film.  The little silhouette, distorted into a thin bony shape by the shallow focus, crept closer.  Ismail was gazing at the doorway through half open eyes.  ‘Maybe he’s dreaming, it must be a dream.’  I said, needing to make noise.  And then in a sudden cut a huge child’s face filled the screen, eyes ringed with bruised purple, droplets of water dripping from his ghostly, sallow skin.  ‘Brother?’ he croaked…and then he was gone.

Describing the scene now, it doesn’t seem nearly as surprising as it was, that first time.  The moment was so affective simply because I hadn’t been expecting it.  It was a truly uncanny moment, where what appeared familiar and predictable, the slow measured pace of an art house film, suddenly switched into something unknown. Freud wrote that for many, the feeling of the uncanny is most felt in ‘relation to death and dead bodies, to the return of the dead, and to spirits and ghosts.’  The strangeness of seeing a body that was once filled with life, stilled, is disturbing because it doesn’t seem right.  In turn, once we grow used to the stillness, it is disturbing if the dead body suddenly whirrs into action.  Thus ghosts, being simultaneously dead and alive, are terrifying because they challenge both states.  Here, the film not only shows us a ghost, it also becomes a metaphorical ghost by transforming into a completely different kind of film.  The jolt is brilliantly affective, because the film leaps so suddenly into a different gear that it takes your body a while to catch up with it.

Asuman Suner has noted that Ceylan’s early films tend to position the home as a site of the uncanny, and in Three Monkeys, the uncanny home becomes the heart of the film.  Ceylan shows Istanbul as a place that represents both the ideal of home – a place of comfort and belonging – and the reality of home – a place of discomfort and loneliness.  For Can Eskinazi, ‘Three Monkeys is a peculiarly nationalistic eulogy, because what lies at the heart of this nationalism isn’t pride in national identity, but rather a quintessentially humanistic stance. It’s a recognition of the people’s ambivalence and failings, and a tribute to their endurance in the face of the human condition’ (Film Comment: May/June 2009) and I’m inclined to agree that Three Monkeys is a film that explores both being Turkish and being human.

The film presents characters who struggle with the pressures of living in a growing, flowing city, in a country whose national identity has been the source of an intense and contradictory upheaval.  For the lower middle class characters, Eyüp, Hacer and Ismail, integration into a rigorously secular and suddenly westernized world has no doubt created a sense of being out of place.  The sensation of the uncanny is a physical one – it leaves your body feeling unsure of its movements, you move awkwardly through motions that once felt natural and smooth.  It’s as if when ideology suddenly shifts, the soul is left behind, creating a gap and a sense of displacement.  This is why the moments of surprise in Three Monkeys are so brilliant.  They conjure up a magical cinematic experience by transferring the character’s shock into our bodies.

A propos de : « Les trois singes », Nuri Bilge Ceylan, avec Ahmet Rifat Sungar, Hatice Aslan, Yavuz Bingöl, (Turquie, France 2008, durée : 1 h 49)

J’espère que l’amour te blesse comme il me blesse

Et que le désespoir t’attend à la porte comme un esclave. ( Yildiz Tilbe)

C’est à mon sens un film difficile à élucider. La sophistication des images devrait me sidérer, je n’y vois que la laideur d’un faux gris-vert. L’histoire ploie sous le déterminisme de la fable, mais les silences, les vides, les ambiguïtés l’exposent au non-sens. Peut-être s’agit-il simplement d’un film en négatif.

Trois  singes* – trois personnages – plus un : un politicien et son chauffeur, sa femme, son fils. A la suite d’un accident de la route, le politicien paie son employé pour qu’il  purge à sa place la peine de prison. Pendant ce temps, il séduit l’épouse en difficulté ; le fils les surprend… Rien ne se passe en réalité, sinon hors champ : pas d’actes, seulement des conséquences. Et même les conséquences sont évacuées, niées, repoussées.  Pour cela, les personnages sont filmés soit de tout près, soit de très loin. Leurs visages surexpressifs s’anéantissent dans l’insignifiance. Tout fonctionne ainsi, d’un extrême à l’autre. La mort par accident mène au meurtre, l’amour – bien sûr – se confond à la haine, l’emprisonnement égale ou surpasse la liberté.

Difficile d’élucider les intentions du réalisateur.  Entre le formalisme et l’austérité, entre  le signifiant et le signifié, l’écart est tel que toute interprétation semble vaine. Le grondement du tonnerre témoigne-t-il d’une transcendance ? La chanson sentimentale (J’espère que l’amour te blesse…) qui s’échappe du téléphone – ridicule indiscrétion – dénonce-t-elle l’absurdité de la condition humaine ? On serait presque tenté d’oublier ce film comme il déserte son sujet. Mais pour moi, ces béances sont justement ce qu’il  a de plus vrai. Tout est égal, et vide, et petit. Ni vengeance, ni rédemption, ni contrition.  Une société défaite, une morale en lambeaux – voilà ce qui se ramasse, ce qui jonche les existences tristes, toute secouées de soubresauts passionnels, ultimes convulsions après la mort.

« Les trois singes », Nuri Bilge Ceylan

*Dans la tradition japonaise, les trois singes sont les figures de la sagesse. Chacun se couvre une partie du visage, les yeux, les oreilles, la bouche. Telle serait la clef de la sagesse : ne rien voir de mal, ne rien dire, ne rien entendre.

Les semaines se suivent… mais ne se ressemblent jamais dans le bac des nouveautés dvd fiction !

Côté détente, “La Nuit au Musée 2” de Shawn Levy qui est la suite logique du premier opus  “La Nuit au musée” et qui ravira les jeunes et les moins jeunes !

Côté polar noir, le fort attendu “Dans la brume électrique” de Bertrand Tavernier, l’adaptation du roman noir de James Lee Burke intitulé Dans la brume électrique avec les morts confédérés. Une enquête qui sent bon le bayou et le cajun. Un rôle taillé sur mesure pour Tommy Lee Jones !

Côté drame, l’adaptation du roman de Marguerite Duras par le réalisateur cambodgien Rithy Panh : “Un barrage contre le pacifique“. Ce réalisateur avait abandonné la fiction depuis 1994 (voir “Les Gens de la rizière“) pour se consacrer au documentaire. Il a d’ailleurs réalisé en 2004 “S21, la machine de mort Khmère Rouge“, une enquête témoignage du génocide perpétré par les Khmères rouges sur le peuple cambodgien.

A remarquer aussi, deux films du réalisateur-acteur turque Nuri Bilge Ceylan; “Les Trois singes“, son cinquième long métrage et qui a remporté le prix de la mise en scène au Festival de Cannes en 2008, ainsi que “Les Climats” présenté deux ans auparavant au même Festival.

Qu’on se le dise.

Brigitte Segers

Blog olayı zamanında internet günlüğü gibi bir tanım almış olsa da Türkiye’de, daha kavranamamış anlamıyla saçma sapan işler için kullanılıyor, kimisi film, dizi videoları ekliyor, kimisi maç özetleri ve goller. Arada bilgi vermeye çalışan ya da insanların yorumlarını içeren gerçek anlamda blog denebilecek alanlar kaybolup gidiyor.

Bilim, teknoloji, sanat, siyaset, her ne olursa olsun mantıklı olduğu sürece bloglar açılmalı, yazılmalı kanısındayım. Fakat bizim yetiştirildiğimiz (kendimi ve blogdaki diğer arkadaşlarımı dahil etmemekle birlikte, genel olarak Türk halkını kastederek) ortam dolayısı ile bu pek mümkün değil. Çünkü kabul etmeliyiz ki biz millet olarak nerde hurafe, nerde efsane var ona inanmayı tercih ediyoruz. Bilimi, gerçekliği kendisine yol kabul etmiş, dürüstlüğüyle çalışan insanlar yerine, kendi adını sağda solda geçirmiş hatta bazıları marka statüsüne ulaşmış insanların sözlerini doğru kabul ediyoruz. Size bir kaç örnek vermem gerekirse, sadece NLP ve kişisel gelişim seminerleri yapan adamların baştacı edildiği (örn. Erdal Demirkıran), hayatında önemli sayılabilecek bir numarası olmayıp ahkam kesenlerin mehdileştirildiği (örn. Harun Yahya), siyasette anlamadığı belli adamların her seçimde ön plana çıktığı (örn. saymama gerek var mı!?), sanatla alakası olmadığı halde sanatçı sayılanların (tamamiyle objektif ve katıldığım bir görüştür ki Mehmet Ali Erbil ve Hülya Avşar) vs. bir ülkede arada kalmış değerlerin farkına varmıyoruz. İster bir profesör olsun, ister öğrenmeye ve öğrendiklerini çevreye yaymayan çalışan bir öğrenci olsun, hurafelerin ve adı magazin programlarında geçti diye bir şey sayılan insanların arasında kaynayıp gidiyor. Yukarıda bahsettiğim isimlerine yerine birilerini saymam gerekirse, psikoloji alanında belki de Türk televizyonlarında en azından şu sıralar en aktif ve adı geçen insan olan Üstün Dökmen, adı dünyada anılan akademisyen Ali Demirsoy ya da sıkıcı filmler çekiyor derken sanat yaptığı farkına varılmayan ve aptal saptal komedi filmlerine karşı gişe zaferi kazanması imkansız olan ama şimdiden adını dünya sineması adına duyurmuş yönetmenler Nuri Bilge Ceylan, Zeki Demirkubuz, Fatih Akın gibi isimler takip edilmeli. Zor bir şeyden bahsediyorum tabi. Her aksilikte nazar arayan, kader kelimesini ağzından düşürmeyen bir halk olarak nasıl gerçekleştireceğiz bunu bilemiyorum.

Başlıktan sapmamak adına biraz geçiştiriyorum anlatmak istediklerimi. Hatta direk konuya geliyorum. Şu aralar pek yazı yazamıyoruz biz bu bloga. Okulların açılmasına ek olarak konu sıkıntısı yaşadığımız zamanlar olması ters etkiliyor. Buraya yazamasak da God Like’ın bir blogu var Reality of Evolution adında. Orada yazmaya devam ediyor ama konsept farklı olduğu için her zaman taşıması imkansız.

Blog için:
http://realityofevolution.wordpress.com

Geçen hafta içerisinde blogu bir saldırı atlattı. Evrim ve bilim ile ilgili bir blog olduğundan inançlar ve evrim teorisine karşı insanların düşüncelerini öğrenmek amacıyla açılmış iki adet anket sahte oylarla manipule edildi. Tahmin edebileceğiniz şekilde Müslümanlık ve insanların evrim teorisine inanmadığı yönünde bir patlama yaşandı. Hemen arkasından God Like’ın yazı yayınlaması üzerine saldırılar durdu. Arkasından ben de bir yazı yazarak tepkimi gösterdim. Bugün yazdığım konu her ne kadar o bloga verdiğim destekle ve insanların görmesini istememle alakalı olsa da, bu yazının başında kısaca anlattığım bakış açısı kıtlığı hadisesini orada bu saldırıyla ilişkilendirerek “Reddediyorum, İnsan Düşünebilen Bir Varlık Değildir…” adlı ufak bir yazıyla dillendirdim.
O yazıyı okumak isteyenler için:
http://realityofevolution.wordpress.com/2009/09/19/reddediyorum-insan-dusunebilen-bir-varlik-degildir/

Neyse devam ediyorum. God Like’ın bir logo düşüncesi vardı. Logo tasarlamak zor iş ama elimden geldiğince yardımcı olmaya çalıştım. Bir logo isimden, tek bir harften, bir sembolden, siluetten vesaire oluşabilir. diğer çoğu tasarımdan farklı olan noktası ise belli kriterlerinin olmayışıdır. Tasarımda bazen form, bazen fonsksiyon, bazen okunabilirlik falan ön plana çıkarken logo tasarımında işler daha soyuttur. Kısaca öyle bir şey yapacaksınızdır ki, insanlar tarafından benimsenecek, görüldüğünde hatırlanacak, opsiyonel olarak içeriği sembolize edecek vs. vs…. Tasarıma kafayı takmış biri olarak, internet el verdiğince araştırdığım dizayn tutorialleri, anlatımları, ipuçları arasında logo dizaynla alakalı olanların %100 başarısız olmasının sebebini buna bağlıyorum. Çünkü diğer işlerde, bir sorun vardır ve belli kriterler içerisinde çözmeye çalışır tasarımcı. Logoda bu sorun tamamiyle ortadan kalkar (bence) ve tasarım işi tamamı ile bir sorun haline gelmeye başlar zamanla (tabi eğer usta bir tasarımcı değilseniz). Bu usta olup olmamak konusunu düşününce ne kadar zorlandığımı itiraf etmem gerekir. Her ne kadar insanlar çok beğenip, güzel bir logo olduğunu düşünseler de benim tereddütlerim var. Onun dışında son halinin çok beğenildiğini itiraf etmeliyim. Tasarıma ilgi duyan ve işin eğitimine de bulaşmış biri olarak bu güzel bir his veriyor insana.

Ufak bir düşünce aşamasından sonra ortaya çıkan çalışmayı kısaca açıklamak istiyorum. Aslında her zaman en uzun süren aşama fikir aşaması olsa da (yine bence), bu kez ucundan olaya dahil olmuşum ve evrim teorisiyle ilgileniyor olmam işimi kolaylaştırdı. Düşünce açısında beyini, filogenetik ağacı anlatmak için beyin kıvrımlarını, hatırlanabilirlik ve içerik için en bilindik basit evrim şemasını kullanmayı tercih ettim. her kıvrıma sonunda bir aşamaya açılıyor olsa da farklı türlere de açılıyor gibi göründü bu sayede.

Sonuç olarak oldu galiba. Taşlar yerine oturdu ve çağrışımı yakalamayı başardım.

Os filmes da Turquia têm se destacado bastante nos festivais de cinema mundo afora, principalmente o diretor deste filme, Nuri Bilge Ceylan, premiado em Cannes diversas vezes. A força aqui está no roteiro, na super ambientação e performances dos atores. Destaque principalmente à interpretação intensa da Hatice Aslan, passando uma imagem do que seria a nova cara da mulher turca. Sendo mais abrangente, o diretor estaria retratando uma sociedade já totalmente corrompida pelo capitalismo. Às vésperas das eleições, candidato comente um assassinato e suborna seu motorista para que ele assuma a culpa em seu lugar. Vai ser o estopim para o início dos conflitos no seio da família deste motorista. Um filme forte!

Back in 2007, an anthology of three-minute short films, called Chacun son cinéma, was commissioned to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the Cannes Film Festival. A number of big-name directors — Lars Von Trier, David Lynch, Gus Van Sant — participated, and many of their contributions were collected on the Chacun son cinéma DVD. Notably absent, however, was the Coen Brothers’ contribution, titled World Cinema, and staring Josh Brolin. Of course, today’s world being what it is, a film like that wasn’t going to sit in some studio storage closet for very long; you can now view it embedded below on the Acme Video Blog. Remember, this was the same year that the Coens’ No Country For Old Men was released (which, to my mind, still holds up as a remarkable return to form for them), and Josh Brolin doesn’t seem to have strayed too far from that movie’s Llewelyn Moss for this turn in World Cinema. Also, dig the shout-out to Turkish director Nuri Bilge Ceylan and his (stunning) film Climates — I’ll have a post on him up sometime next week. Enjoy.

Zrobiłam sobie niedawno małą wycieczkę do filmowej spiżarni celem odkrycia skarbu ukrytego w szklanym słoiku intelektualnych wrażeń smakowych. Zawsze to jakiś sposób na wprowadzenie do życia odrobiny ekscytacji. Nastrój miałam raczej smętny, więc podświadomość wybrała z półki zakonserwowaną refleksję na zasadzie kontrastu z „Happy  Go Lucky”. Film o rozkładzie związku. Spokojny, smutny, minimalistyczny. Dramat. Idealnie.

Moje skromne oczekiwania zostały spełnione już w pierwszej minucie. Brak akcji. Rozległe, przestrzenne krajobrazy, pustkowia i tych dwoje w końcowej fazie współistnienia z jeszcze tlącą się miłością i poświęceniem. Kilka prostych scen – dowodów na umieranie uczucia: samotność w parze, obcość, rozbieżność wizji na życie – tak to się zwykle kończy, choć w tym przypadku nie definitywnie.

Wyswobodzony mężczyzna – starszy doktorant i fotograf z zamiłowania, nieco egocentryczny  żegna się z delikatną i płaczliwą naturą swojej dotychczasowej towarzyszki i ucieka w gorące objęcia dobrej znajomej – ognistorudej bogini dzikich przygód seksualnych. Kierowany instynktem powraca do źródeł swojej fizyczności, odnajdując spełnienie w atawistycznych rozkoszach. Za sprawą orzeszka laskowego para ludzkich ssaków doprowadzona zostaje na wyżyny upojenia – świetna scena przypominająca o tym, jak silny jest zwierzęcy pierwiastek w nas drzemiący, przy okazji rozgrzeszająca ludzką potrzebę zaspokojenia. Nie ma tu zbędnej nieczystości czy niemoralności, choć zdrada z założenia sprzeczna jest z etyką. Nie chodzi tu jednak o potępianie, a bardziej o ukazanie rozbieżności w kobiecych i męskich sposobach przeżywania straty. O ile porzucona Bahar izoluje się od świata i poświęca pracy, o tyle jej były partner pociesza się w ramionach innej, choć najwyraźniej po to tylko, by przekonać się, co stracił. Okazuje się bowiem, że i dla mężczyzny fizyczność nie jest wystarczająca i zaspokaja go krótkofalowo. Triumfuje natomiast delikatność, a jej pragnienie potrafi przewartościować system upodobań i nakłonić do poświęcenia. Pytanie tylko, czy konieczna refleksja nie przychodzi za późno? I czy człowiek rzeczywiście jest w stanie się zmienić? Czy nowy poranek jest nowym początkiem z odmienionym partnerem, czy jednak kolejnym porankiem i kontynuacją tego, z czym się rozstaliśmy?

W filmie dominuje proza życia, uczucie zwyczajności, znudzenia, ale i pewna urokliwość tego indywidualnego istnienia, w którym bohaterowie mają swoje pasje, słabości, pragnienia. Reżyser wyeliminował z filmu sceny dotkliwego lamentu, wyzwisk, buntu, złości, podwyższonej adrenaliny na rzecz ascezy w relacjach międzyludzkich. To jednak tzw. cicha broń, bo nic tak nie porusza widza jak wyuczone z każdą sceną wyczulenie na emocje. Im obraz bardziej minimalistyczny, tym intensywniejsze klimaty uczuć, niezależnie od tego, czy spowite są w gorącym słońcu czy ośnieżone chłodem.

Lekkiego dreszczyku dodaje filmowi fakt, że bohaterami dramatu są prawdziwi małżonkowie – reżyser i jego żona. Zabieg dość kontrowersyjny, ale wpisuje się w konwencję realizmu, nadaje całej historii rzeczywistego wymiaru; potwierdza, że rozkład nie jest bajką, a często naturalnym procesem, który trudno zatrzymać.

„Klimaty”, reż. Nuri Bilge Ceylan

Magda Kotowska

Sometimes you see a movie so good, you need to tell everyone you meet: go see it. Such is Three Monkeys by Turkish auteur Nuri Bilge Ceylan, which I watched last night on DVD. A brilliant, beautiful, slow-burning, disturbing film. Ceylan comes from a still photography background and the cinematography is painterly, evocative and stunning. But this is not just eye candy. The slow-moving story with few characters pulls you in without you knowing it. One minute you’re thinking it’s an arthouse cinematography fest about lonely people. And then, 20 minutes later, you realize the story, the suspense, the dialogue are masterful and very well-crafted. It’s just that the fuse is long–but it’s path certainly not random.  And that you’re sitting on the edge of your seat. When final sequence rolls, of the father/protagonist on his roof, you are both awed at the beauty of the image, moved by what’s just happened, and left feeling unnerved, relieved and saddened–at the same time.

I won’t tell you the story. But here’s my synopsis:

Faustian deals beget Faustian deals. They’re never neat. No one is untouched.

And the sub-header: politicians are amoral rats.

The trailer, while whetting the appetite for the excellent cinematography, is not at all representative of the movie: the trailer makes me think it is a horror/thriller movie. But it’s not at all. It’s a morality play about unhappy people. Very spare and beautifully economical. Writing dovetails with imagery dovetails with coloring dovetails with editing. It’s not typically a “my kind of movie” (you’re waiting for the woman lead character to be strong, but she’s not–rather pathetic and victimized; the overtly political angle, the mosaic of society is stripped away, etc.), but I came away feeling in love with the movie. And after watching and reading interviews with him, deep respect and a close kinship with the director. Indie filmmakers: this is what you should aspire too! This is what I aspire too. Forget all the comic book retreads, forget special effects, forget formulaic Hollywood movies about weddings you can only get halfway through on a plane, and formulaic “festival films”. This is how to make a movie, lovingly crafted, end-to-end. Moviemaking is not dead. Long love Ceylan!

Oh, and Ceylan shot digitally, apparently on Sony CineAlta F900s. I’ll let him speak about why he loves shooting digitally and give some brilliant insights into filmmaking, in excerpts here from this interview from The Guardian with Geoff Andrew, onstage at the BFI Southbank:

On being self-taught and the importance of knowing all aspects of film-making and business:

I never worked on other films, as assistant director or anything, so I never learned how other directors worked. I learned everything from books myself, and I learned every aspect of film-making, including sales and marketing. Even in Cannes, I was selling the film myself, and they said that there was only one other director who sold his films himself – [Abderrehmane] Sissako from Africa. It’s unusual, and distributors were a bit surprised. I learned how to do it but I don’t do that any more. Now I have a producer and a cinematographer, everything. It is unnecessary, but at that time, I wanted to know it. I think a director should know many things, especially the technical aspects; otherwise you are a slave of the technical people. If you know the technical aspects, you can communicate with them and direct them much better.

On dialogue in films:

I don’t try to make my characters silent. In the script, that scene had a lot of dialogue. But in the shoot, it’s the only place to understand whether what you wrote works or not. Always during a shoot, I try to find more balance in the situation, so I end up taking dialogue out here and there and finally there’s no dialogue. I feel the balance is reached at that point and I don’t know what to do about it. It just convinces me more like that, somehow. And of course, dialogue should be treated very carefully. I’ve investigated this a lot. I’ve recorded many conversations in order to understand the nature of it. It doesn’t follow a logical progression. Somebody says something, the other person says something entirely different; if you analyse it, you see it is that way. So dialogue, even if you use it, it shouldn’t be so logical and it shouldn’t carry much information about the film’s secrets or the meaning of the film. Dialogue, for me, only works if they talk nonsense, anything unrelated to the film. I like to do this as much as possible. I try to tell the meaning of the film without dialogue – with the situation, the gestures, and so on. This is my intention, but maybe I’m not successful.

On why he (and his wife Ebru acted in his own film (“Climates”):

What I wanted to tell with this film was something which is hard to explain and express to other people. I didn’t want to struggle with how to explain to actors how they should act. I wanted them to behave based more on their inclination. Also, when we wrote and talked about the film on holiday, my wife and I, we made a test shot, acting ourselves and we liked the result. So that’s another reason why we did it.

On shooting digitally, in answer to the question “Do you think digital technology is opening up new avenues of expressiveness?”

Definitely. I think it has still more unknown potential to be able to express something deeper or hidden. So film seems like nonsense – why shoot on film any more? This film was shot using old digital technology and now it’s already even much better. Film is expensive and there are many disadvantages. For me, this is it. I’ll never go back to film for movie-making or photography. I think we should be open and use the advantages of this new technology to express our deeper emotions.

On the color grading of “Three Monkeys”:

Actually, I don’t like expressionism – I prefer impressionism, because the feelings and emotions are too underlined in expressionism. But many critics have said that this film is expressionist – maybe they are right. I like to be more subtle and more hidden, making the audience more active. As for the colours, it’s natural that when one looks at something, everybody sees something different. When I look at the world, this is kind of what I see. My photography may have an influence on this – I see colours in this way. When I engaged in the colour grading, I didn’t realise that I had distanced myself from these colours that much. And of course, in this film, I also wanted to isolate the characters a bit. This isolation I made in other ways: for example, I didn’t show any faces other than these characters. And also these colours helped this isolation a bit.

Ceylan’s secret colour grading recipe, so you can easily apply the “Three Monkeys” look to your own projects:

Actually, I didn’t do much: I just increased the contrast and desaturated the colours and then selected one colour, generally red, and pushed it a bit after desaturation.

On sound design:

I don’t like to be realistic in sound. For instance, we heard a sound in the film that I didn’t hear before. Our ears are very selective and we just hear what we want to hear. So, for the audience, I select some sounds and just show them. With the sound, I can guide the audience a little bit in the way I want, and it gives the scene the atmosphere that I want. Also, if you can tell something with the sound, you don’t have to show it.

On starting filmmaking late:

I was quite old, actually, 36 years old. It’s much better if you can start much earlier. I spent at least 10 years without doing anything after university, thinking about what to do for a living. When you’re young, you’re braver and it’s better to make mistakes when you’re younger. When I made that film, I always thought that it would not make a film. I was shooting something but I never expected Cannes would take it, or that I would show it to other people. I thought I was taking something meaningless. In the editing room, I tried to create a concept or a story out of it. There was something in my mind, but I always thought it would not work. And even after I finished the film, I thought it was shit and that nobody would like it. I asked my friends, “Does it look like a film?” I asked the same question when I made my first feature [The Small Town, 1997]. I remember watching it with my sister at the Berlin film festival where it was premiered, and we looked at each other and we were thinking, “It doesn’t look like a film.”

On big vs. small crews:

Actually, both easier and more difficult [to work with a big crew, after working on movies with a small crew]. It depends on how you look at it. I cannot work like the old days – I am older now and I have less energy. Human beings are creatures that very easily get used to luxuries. Until Uzak, I would shoot my films myself. But now, I can’t imagine doing that and it seems to me very difficult. I’m lazy and it seems to me much easier to use a monitor to control the actors, the composition, mise en scène. And I think it should be like this. That’s why I work like this now. But on the other hand, it’s more difficult. In this film, there were about 20- 25 people behind the camera and everything takes time. To move people from one place to another, we need lorries and things. In Uzak, if you remember, there is a snow scene. It lasted a very short time in Istanbul, the snow stayed for only two days. But we managed to shoot everything we needed in two days because we were so small. With only one Jeep, we could move all the crew, the material, all the actors and we could move quickly. We were much faster. So it was easier in that sense. But then, I used to compromise a lot. If I couldn’t solve something, I would change the script and I would adapt myself to many things. Now I compromise less, because I have a producer and he solves many problems, we have more money and we have more people to solve problems. So when you get new possibilities, you don’t want to get rid of them. So, both more difficult and easier, I think.

On his preference for locked off shots:

Ozu is my favourite director, actually. And yes, I don’t move the camera much – but I don’t know if that’s because of Ozu or because I’m a photographer. I jut don’t like to move the camera much, really, because it makes everyone more conscious about the camera. And the height of the camera is mostly decided for me, and I think for Ozu, by the vertical lines in the space. In the books, they say that Ozu put his camera 90cm above the ground but I don’t believe it. It depends on the vertical lines – and there are many of those in Japanese houses.

On relationship of director and cinematographer:

…the psychology of the character is important – if you shoot a person from above, it’s different from shooting them from below. I generally like to shoot at mouth level for a portrait. Especially in closeups, even 1cm is very important. That’s why you should never leave it to the cinematographer, because the cinematographer never knows how to connect it to the next shot; only the director knows the relationship between the next shot and the previous shot. So the director should carefully place the camera to ensure continuity of the psychology.

On music in film:

I don’t like music in cinema, it seems to me like a crutch; if you cannot express something in cinematic ways, then you call the help of the music to underline it. I’m not against it, but if possible I try not to use it. In the editing, I try many pieces of music, but eventually I decide not to use any. And also, the sound of the atmosphere is the nicest sound for me in the cinema, so I prefer to use atmospheric sound instead of music. Because music kills things.

En el templo Toshogu de Nikko (Japón) existe una escultura de madera que representa a los tres monos sabios o místicos: uno se tapa la boca, otro los ojos y el tercero los oídos. Parece ser que dicha escultura nace de un proverbio japonés que reza “No seas malvado, no escuches lo malvado, no digas con maldad” y que, según se cree, proviene del filósofo chino Confucio.

Eyüp, Hacer e Ismail son los tres monos que el director turco Nuri Bilge Ceylan nos muestra en su última película.

Ceylan es muy conocido en el mundillo de los festivales desde que en 2003 triunfó con su tercera película “Lejano” (2002) consiguiendo varios galardones como el Gran Premio del Jurado y el de Mejor Actor en Cannes o el Premio FIPRESCI en San Sebastián.

En la estupenda “Lejano” (“Uzak”) conocíamos a Mahmut, un asocial fotógrafo de Estambul, que ve alterada su rutina con la llegada de un pariente, Yusuf, que busca trabajo como marinero en la capital de Turquía. El intelectual y bien situado Mahmut, acostumbrado a la soledad, no soporta compartir casa con el analfabeto Yusuf lo que da pie a una serie de hilarantes situaciones, sin olvidar esa cara más triste que retrata la incomunicación.

En 2006, el director turco presentó “Los climas” (también galardonada en Cannes con el Premio FIPRESCI, entre otros) protagonizada por él mismo y por su mujer la fotógrafa Ebru Ceylan. En esta fallida cinta, Ceylan nos relataba la desintegración de la pareja representada por Isa y Bahar que deciden separarse asfixiados en una relación en la que no creen. Su evolución a partir de ese momento se produce paralelamente al paso de las estaciones (verano, otoño, invierno) y los cambios de clima consecuentes. A pesar de que la fotografía y algunas secuencias de la película son realmente soberbias (recordemos que Ceylan era fotógrafo de profesión), el tedio y el aburrimiento caracterizan la mayor parte de los 101 minutos que dura la cinta.

“Tres monos” (2008) es la última propuesta del director turco que parece haber recuperado la calidad que demostró en “Lejano” pero que, personalmente, no acaba de convencerme del todo.

Eyüp es el chófer de Servet, un político que se presenta a unas importantes elecciones. La noche antes de la jornada electoral, Servet atropella a un hombre huyendo del lugar sin prestarle ayuda. Para eludir el escándalo y la cárcel, el político le propone a Eyüp que se declare culpable del accidente a cambio de seguir recibiendo su sueldo y una considerable cantidad de dinero cuando abandone la penitenciaría. El chófer acepta la propuesta y los seis meses de prisión que se le impondrán.

Mientras Eyüp cumple “su” condena, su mujer Hacer y su hijo adolescente Ismail continúan su vida en el misnúsculo y caluroso piso que poseen junto al mar. Hacer sigue trabajando e Ismail, después de haber suspendido su examen de ingreso en la universidad, mata el tiempo durmiendo, saliendo de noche con un grupo de amigos poco recomendable y visitando a su padre.

Ismail le manifiesta a su madre que quiere hacerse taxista, pero para ello necesita comprar un coche y no tiene el dinero para adquirirlo. Es entonces cuando el muchacho le propone a Hacer que le pida a Servet la cantidad que le había prometido a su padre. Ella se niega en un primer momento pero cuando descubre que a su hijo le han dado una paliza por meterse en líos, decide acceder a los deseos de Ismail y visitar al político.

Este encuentro entre Hacer y Servet desencadenará una serie de impredecibles acontecimientos con fatales consecuencias.

Como señalábamos al principio de esta reseña, Eyüp, Hacer e Ismail son los tres “monos” que no quieren ver ni oír y que, encima, callan. Son personas que no quieren tomar partido, que rehuyen las vicisitudes que se les plantean, que prefieren mirar hacia otro lado, que conviven con incómodos recuerdos. Callan el acto cobarde y corrupto de Servet, no quieren ver la traición y no desean oír una terrible confesión.

Es por ello que los personajes de “Tres monos” apenas hablan y, en numerosas ocasiones, debemos observar sus silenciosos rostros para entender qué se les pasa por la cabeza.

Rodada echando mano (nuevamente) de una maravillosa fotografía y de una magnífica dirección (galardonada en Cannes con el Premio al Mejor Director), la última propuesta de Ceylan no termina de convencer puesto que realiza un uso excesivo de los planos fijos (muy característicos del director turco) que llegan a saturar en algunos momentos y que ralentizan en demasía el desarrollo de la historia.

A pesar de ello no hay que negarle un más que prometedor arranque que, lamentablemente, va diluyéndose a causa de esa lentitud comentada anteriormente. Por suerte, Ceylan nos regala un magnífico final con el que demuestra que de “monos” los hay en todos sitios.

Filmadas (casi) como si fueran una correlación de impresionantes fotografías, las películas de Ceylan siempre son una atractiva (aunque desigual) propuesta en el panorama del cine mundial.

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Para ver la ficha de la película, pincha aquí

Briony 

It’s hot.  The sun is painfully bright, and the sound of flies is thick and close.  We watch Bahar (Ebru Ceylan) watching her lover Isa (Nuri Bilge Ceylan) photograph some ruins in Kas, a holiday destination in the south of Turkey.  Despite the open landscape the atmosphere is oppressive.  Bahar is bored.  She yawns leaning into a crumbling column.  Isa’s shutter clicks.  Bahar wanders over to him and hugs him.  He asks, ‘Are you bored?’ ‘No,’ she replies.  She walks up the hill and sits down.  In a long still shot, the camera watches her.  Her expressions shift.  Isa, looking too hard through the lens, stumbles.  Bahar’s gaze softens momentarily and she smiles, but in a heartbeat she is stony, and in the next, she begins crying, a tear sliding over her cheek.  The first non-digetic sounds – a Scarlatti piano sonata – that are later revealed to be digetic sounds from the following scene, kick in and the film cuts to the titles.

This opening six minutes is made up of ten still shots.  This uncomfortable stillness characterises the image and narrative flow in Climates (2006).  The long takes, and the disorienting trick of having the sound from a scene bleed well into the space of the previous one draws attention to the apparatus in a way that places the audience at distance, while at the same time, the flattening of space (a quality of the digital camera) and the use of extreme close ups create a feeling of suffocating closeness. In an interview with Sight and Sound’s Nick James, Ceylan observes, ‘Static shots excite me and they’re always in my films because I feel a disconnection from reality.  People are lonely in life, and in relationships between men and women you feel this even more.  This is the most tragic aspect of life, this melancholy: nothing else seems to be worth making a film about.’  The heaviness is unbearable, and riveting.

In his second cinema book, The Time Image, Deleuze points out that in post World War II cinema, characters were suddenly struck down with a restless malaise that caused them to drift aimlessly through the film.  ‘some characters, caught in pure optical and sound situations, find themselves condemned to wander about or go off on a trip. […]  They are given over to something intolerable which is simply their everydayness itself’.  The bounteousness of his everyday is precisely Isa’s problem.  His life is a series of selfish actions.  He breaks up with Bahar because he feels bored, but then spends the second half of the film trying to convince her to come back.  He is working on a thesis he cannot finish, he takes more and more photographs, aimlessly looking for something he can’t put his finger on.  He wallows in the past, obsessively photographing ruins and seeking out former lovers.  Isa cannot stop moving – he goes from one place to another, taking then almost immediately discarding – but his life is stuck, and at the end of the film he is no nearer to feeling satisfied than he was at the beginning. 

His internal floundering is reflected in the way the landscapes he photographs always threaten to swallow him up.  In one long, wide shot he walks through the snowy countryside, almost obliterated by the flakes and the space around him.  In another he stands on a bridge under a thick grey sky, the weight of the clouds pushing down into the bottom half of the screen.  The cutting too, jumps with an excess of energy.  Whole events are elided.  When Isa breaks up with Bahar, he we see him sitting on the beach watching her swim, while going over what he is going to say in his head.  He repeats the lines, adjusting them a few times, and then the film jump cuts abruptly to Bahar sitting beside him.  He has broken up with her, and we have missed it.  The final scene between Isa and Bahar cuts together in an even more surprising way.  Bahar comes to see Isa in his hotel room as he has invited her earlier in the day.  She appears to fall asleep, and we are given a strange series of extreme close up shots of Bahar’s hair.  The images are disembodied, the zoom so tight individual strands of hair are clear.  At one point, Isa’s hand appears, at another Bahar’s eyes are open and she looks out from the lower left corner of the screen.  It’s disorienting and eerie and plays like a set of dream images or the scattered thoughts of an unstable mind.

I could go on about the explosive tears and the crumbling green walls of the apartments in Istanbul, but that would be giving away all the beauty and bewilderment.  Climates is not an easy film, but watching it is time well spent.

Watched this film twice; second time around not quite so impressed.

Maybe because the pace is a little too studiously slow, the characters a little too earnestly construed, the photography a little too artfully deliberate.

It’s still pretty good though. And Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s “pretty good” is both pretty to look at, and good to ponder over, be seriously in contemplation of – not only after the film has finished – but during the film, as you sit there, quietly watching.

There’s not that much talking going on between the 4 main characters; a lot of looking, and a lot of thinking – or ruminating, or worrying – and a lot of internalised emotions simmering away just underneath the cracked surface.

The restless heat of a Turkish Summer insinuates these sultry emotions through windows of listless curtains, or through half opening doors; the boy – the son – keeps going back to flop apathetically on the bed, escape the oppressive heat, or his lack of energetic purpose.

The father is in prison, so his energetic purpose is momentarily stymied also.

Until he gets out. And he finds out whats been going on. The wife at it behind his back – with the very person he went to prison for (it was for money though, not altruistic sacrifice)

This film is like the other films of Ceylans i’ve seen; isolated people, separated or separating from one another, finding it difficult to connect; taciturn individuals infected with melancholy and undisclosed sadnesses; not able to talk about anything very much, not able to articulate the deep human hurt that has got into their souls, stuck there, beyond redemption or transformation.

There’s an air of futility about these films. Something sadly human, but futile. Travail is omnipresent. Hope isn’t coming.

Dir: Nuri Bilge Ceylan, Turkey

7.5/10

Watched Climates on iPlayer last night and was struck by the way several shots were set up in extreme close up, trying without success to remember a well-known film that used the same technique.

Steven Yates in his review of Climates in kamera.co.uk, did not give a direct answer but confirmed that Ceylan is both filmmaker and photographer. Right from the beginning of the film the main character Isa, played by Ceylan himself, is taking digital photographs, boring his girlfriend played by his wife Ebru Ceylan.

In his own photography website,  nuri bilge ceylan photography, the bumf  for his 2007 Grenada exhibition includes:

Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s career as a filmmaker is indivisible from his interest in still images. He is in charge of the cinematog­raphy of his own films and often includes a photographer in the plot, such as the protagonist of Distant, a spectator of the city of Istanbul from the other side of the lens, and who is incapable of verbal communication beyond images. During the preparation and shooting of his latest feature, Climates, which Cines del Sur presents in the Itineraries Section, Ceylan took a panoramic camera with him to cap­ture exteriors; what were initially locations to be used in production soon became a specific work…

One of photographs in his Turkey cinemascope series, Ishakpasa palace, 2005, is in the film near the end.

A review by Chris Cabin in filmcritic

NYT 2006 review by Manohla Dargis

Hoy voy a hablar de tres películas vistas por mí en los últimos días, completamente distintas una de otra, tanto en forma, como en narración; y por supuesto, en satisfacción de resultado.

Comenzaré por la adaptación de la primera novela de la famosísima saga literaria Millenium, del sueco Stieg Larsson. La película, titulada como el primer libro (Los hombres que no amaban a las mujeres), es eminentemente un thriller sobre la investigación del Mickael Blomskit y la misteriosa y tremenda Lisbeth Salander sobre la sobrina del patriarca del imperio Vagner, desaparecida años atrás.

Si no hubiese leído la novela, simplemente habría tenido la sensación de ver un thriller entretenido, bastante bien rodado, y con personajes peculiares e interesantes. Pero, como no es el caso, la película me causó una terrible decepción, ya que la adaptación no solamente ha obviado muchísimos detalles y circunstancias de los personajes y la trama, sino que ha introducido, de una manera fácil y malintencionada, unas pocas escenas en las que introduce datos y acontecimientos narrados en la segunda novela.

Además, aunque el personaje de Salander está bastante bien descrito y planteado (en gran parte, por un excelente trabajo expresivo y psicológico de la actriz que la encarna), el personaje de Blomskit se reescribe de una manera completamente superficial, cargándose sin piedad a uno de los pilares de la novela, en lo que a los protagonistas se refiere.

Aunque la película no está mal, referida a la novela me parece completamente fallida y superficial, ya que, aunque los libros de Larsson se hayan convertido en absolutos best sellers, la complicada trama investigadora, la profundidad y originalidad de los personajes; y la tensión que te contagia como lector, los hacen, bajo mi punto de vista, dignos de algo mejor que lo que ha realizado el director sueco Niels Arden Oplev.

El mismo día que vi esta película, me puse un DVD que me compró mi padre hace ya unas semanas, cuando vino de visita. La película en cuestión es Perros de Paja, del famoso director británico Sam Peckinpah. El film narra la vida de un astrofísico estadounidense que comienza a vivir en una pequeña población inglesa con su mujer. Huyendo de la violenta Norteamérica, el tranquilo y pacífico matemático se verá obligado a enfrentarse, cada vez más violentamente, a varios de sus vecinos para defender a  su esposa y su casa.

Esta película, de bastante difícil visión para sensibilidades dentro de la media, es una notable visión artística de la violencia humana. La cámara de Peckinpah capta, minuto a minuto, como la tensión va en aumento, y la sobriedad del formato, unida a la espantosa y pesada niebla típica de las islas británicas, añaden aún más una tensión que no dejas de sentir hasta que comienzan los títulos de crédito.

Gracias a una magnífica dirección, sin tapujos ni decoraciones, y a un reparto brillante, capitaneado por el camaleónico y siempre maravilloso Dustin Hoffman, la película se torna como una creación artística necesaria para entender mejor el lado oscuro y más primitivo de la naturaleza humana.

Por último, ayer mismo pude ver una película difícil de catalogar, a la vez que difícil de olvidar. Se trata de Tres Monos, del director turco Nuri Bilge Ceylan. El film narra la historia de una familia que lucha por su propia estabilidad escondiendo y obviando verdades sabidas e intuidas por los tres miembros. El propio director explica la elección del título de la siguiente manera:

El título Tres Monos viene de la filosofía de Confucio, donde los tres monos tienen un significado positivo que representa la sabiduría: no oyen el mal, no lo ven ni hablan de él… Hoy en día, la metáfora de los tres monos se usa de forma peyorativa, para denunciar la hipocresía de las apariencias.

El resultado es una película muy pausada, muy pendiente de los pensamientos y reacciones de los miembros de esta familia que pende de un hilo, pero que lucha en el silencio por resistir y permanecer unida. La cámara de Ceylan se concentra en ellos, difuminando los fondos de filmación con desaturaciones y cromas alterados. Las escenas parecen cuadros, con luces y sombras que te cautivan y te unen a los personajes con mayor intensidad y sensibilidad. La fotografía está cuidadísima y, en ocasiones, resulta mágica.

Nunca olvidaré la escena final, con el cielo turco nublándose poco a poco, y oscureciendo la azotea de ese edificio donde todo ocurre, o se evita. Salí de la sala con la sensación de haber visto algo único, de una calidad artística de alto nivel y compromiso.

Es increible como una película tan fantástica, y “galardonada con un premio al mejor director en el festival de Cannes del 2008″, pueda haber tardado tanto en llegar a nuestros cines; bueno, en el caso de Madrid, “al cine”; porque sólo la estrenó una sala en toda la ciudad.

Sinceramente, me siento afortunado de haber podido disfrutar de un cine tan interesante, tan estético y tan profundo a la vez.

Y a seguir buscando buenas películas… aunque sea consciente de que erraré de vez en cuando…

13 Mayıs’ta başlayan Cannes Film Festivali‘nde bugün son gündü. Az önce sona eren törenle ödüller sahiplerini buldu ve festival sona erdi. Altın Palmiye ödülü Michael Haneke‘ye Das Weisse Band filmiyle gitti. Haneke, konuşmasında “Eşim bana, bazen kadınsı bir soru yönelterek ‘Mutlu musun’ diye sorar. Ona şimdi cevap veriyorum. Evet gerçekten çok mutluyum. Beni bu ödüle layık gördüğünüz için hepinize çok teşekkürler” dedi. Festivalde Jüri büyük ödülü ise Un Prophet filminin oldu. Jacques Audiard da konuşmasında yine çok sevinçli olduğunu belirterek Out of Africa filmindeki bir sahneden alıntı yaptı.

İşte Tüm Sonuçlar:

Altın Palmiye
“The White Ribbon” directed by Michael Haneke

Jüri Büyük Ödülü
“The Prophet” directed by Jacques Audiard

En İyi Yönetmen Ödülü
Brillante Mendoza, director of “Kinatay”

Özel Jüri Ödülü
Alain Resnais, director of “Wild Grass”

En iyi Senaryo Ödülü
“Spring Fever”, written by Feng Mei

En İyi İlk Film Ödülü
“Samson and Delilah”, Australia, directed by Warwick Thornton

Mansiyon Ödülü
“Ajami”, Israel-Germany, directed by Scandar Copti, Yaron Shani

Jüri Ödülü

“Fish Tank” directed by Andrea Arnold
“Thirst” directed by Park Chan-Wook

En İyi Kadın Oyuncu Ödülü
Charlotte Gainsbourg, “Antichrist”

En İyi Erkek Oyuncu Ödülü
Christoph Waltz, “Inglorious Basterds”

Altın Palmiye Kısa Film Ödülü
“Arena” – Joao Salaviza

UN CERTAIN REGARD (Belirli bir bakış ödülü, Bu kategoriye aday olan filmler diğer adaylıklarda yarışmıyorlar)

“Dogtooth,” Greece, Yorgos Lanthimos : Kazandı
“Police, Adjective,” Romania, Corneliu Porumboiu : Jüri Ödülü
“Nobody Knows About the Persian Cats,” Iran, Bahman Ghobadi : Özel Ödül
“Le Pere de mes enfants,” France-Germany, Mia Hansen-Love : Özel Ödül

Variety (USA), Fri., May 15, 2009,

By Ali Jaafar

Filmmakers dig into country’s complex story. It is a measure of Turkey’s strategically important geographic position that when U.S. President Barack Obama visited the country in April, it could be counted as both the final leg of his European tour and his first visit to a Muslim country.

Turkey is a country defined by its contradictions, straddling East and West, Europe and Asia, its society a mix of secular and Islamic values and its outlook both modern and traditional.

Its film industry is similarly a fascinating blend of culture and commerce.

What’s more, the country’s tumultuous political backdrop, as well as the army’s ongoing fight against Kurdish guerrilla group the PKK, is proving fertile ground for its filmmakers.

In recent years, the Turkish film biz has grown to the point that local pics regularly outperform the bigger-budget offerings from the U.S. studios.

This year’s box office champ, for example, is Togan Gokbakar’s sequel “Recep Ivedik 2,” about the comic exploits of a popular Turkish everyman TV character.

Pic, which was produced and distributed by Ozen Films, has generated 4.3 million admissions since it opened in February.

The success of pics like “Recep Ivedik 2″ underline the growing appetite among Turkish auds for Turkish fare. While comedies and melodramas, often based on TV skeins, remain the best performers at the Turkish box office, auds have shown increasing interest in more serious projects.

In October, a film about Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the founder of modern-day Turkey, became a sensation in the country. “Mustafa,” a docu written and directed by Can Dundar that mixed original footage with re-enactments of the leader’s life, has garnered more than 1 million admissions since its debut Oct. 29, only days before the 70th anniversary of Ataturk’s death Nov. 10. The film comfortably outperformed the likes of “Quantum of Solace.”

It was also the most controversial Turkish pic in some time, with Ataturk loyalists decrying its portrayal of the venerated leader as a hard-drinking, chain-smoking womanizer.

That the film could even be made is indicative of a growing willingness by Turkish filmmakers to tackle sensitive and controversial subjects.

“We talk a lot more about recent history now — much more than we used to 10 years ago,” says helmer Semih Kaplanoglu, whose “Sut” won this year’s Fipresci prize at the Istanbul Film Festival. “It’s still a new thing for us. It’s very important that Turkish filmmakers become more politically engaged and say something about the Turkey of today and the world in general.”

In recent years, Turkey’s filmmaking community has become divided between those who make mainstream pics with huge domestic appeal but little international interest, such as Cem Yilmaz (“A.R.O.G.”), and the arthouse brigade led by the likes of Nuri Bilge Ceylan (“Three Monkeys”) and Reha Erdem (“Times and Winds”).

The latter regularly find their films selected for and winning prizes at major international film fests. But their movies have modest appeal back home.

It is telling, however, that Ceylan scored his most commercial success so far with last year’s “Three Monkeys,” his most political project to date.

Pic, about a family struggling to come to terms with a dark secret, takes place against the backdrop of Turkey’s elections. It garnered more than 100,000 admissions for Ceylan — a modest sum by Turkey blockbuster standards but a reasonable performance by the filmmaker’s record.

More important, the fact that politics features at all in the film, given Ceylan’s famously poetic, elliptical style, is testament to the crucial political crossroads at which Turkish society finds itself.

“I wanted to keep the humanity of the characters in the foreground, but there is a strong political background in the film,” says Ceylan. “While we were shooting, there was a big political situation in the country because the government had called for early elections. The streets of Turkey changed a lot. There were flags everywhere, the cars of the different political parties, the shouting from the crowds. It was a mess. So I decided to use this situation to increase the inner emotions of the family and their loneliness.”

There also have been signs of late that the distinction between mainstream and auteur filmmakers may be blurring.

Zubeyr Sasmaz, for example, exec produced 2006 smash hit “Valley of the Wolves: Iraq,” based on the popular Turkish TV show about a crack platoon of Turkish commandos in Iraq. (The film proved hugely controversial for its negative portrayal of U.S. troops.)

Sasmaz also directed “Muro,” a mainstream black comedy about two Marxist Kurdish friends who leave jail and encounter two Russian girls who are resolutely capitalist in outlook. Pic has generated 2.3 million admissions since its release in December last year.

While Sasmaz may have previously been pigeon-holed as a commercial filmmaker, his next project, “The Root and the Branches,” is a resolutely arthouse offering about the intersecting lives of seven Turks.

“What we need to do is make films which are universal,” says Sasmaz. “We can make commercial films, and we can make arthouse films, but for me, the most important thing is just to make films that recognize our humanity.”

As with other places in the world, however, during these times of economic crisis, Turkish auds still want to leave theaters feeling better than when they walked in. Commercial pics will continue to dominate the marketplace as long as the market demands it.

But in an encouraging sign of the growing maturity of the Turkish film biz as more screens continue to pop up over the country, it is becoming easier for serious-minded fare to find space to attract auds.

“People who pay money want to be entertained,” says distrib Ozen Films prexy Mehmet Soyarslan. “What we are seeing, though, is that the Turkish people want to see their own history on the screen, their own heroes and their stories. The people are more interested in what is happening in Turkey.”

Bu sene 13-24 Mayıs arası gerçekleşecek Cannes Film Festivali’nde sıcak gelişmeler var. Geçen sene Üç Maymun ile En İyi Yönetmen ödülünü kazanan Nuri Bilge Ceylan, festivalin jüri üyeliğine seçildi.

Festivalde ayrıca yarışacak filmler belli oldu. Hepsi de bir çok sinemaseverin tanıdığı ve saydığı yönetmenler. Bu sene gerçekten iyi bir rekabet olacağa benziyor. Yarışacak yönetmenler ve filmlerini kısa kısa inceleyelim..

Alain Resnais – “Les Herbes Folles“

Unutulmaz Hiroshimo Mon Amour’un yönetmeni Fransız Resnais’nin L’incident (Olay) isimli bir kitaptan uyarladığı bu film hakkında henüz net bilgiler yok.

Jacques Audiard – “Un Prophète“

Bir başka Fransız yönetmen olan Jacques Audiard’ın en bilindik filmi Sur Mes Levres. Audiard, Un Prophète (Bir Peygamber) ismini verdiği bu son filminde genç bir arabın bir Fransız cezaevine gönderilmesi ardından mafyanın en önemli kişilerinden biri haline gelmesi anlatılacak.

Xavier Giannoli – “A l’Origine“

Giannoli, Yarışma bölümünde çok iddialı olmayan bir yönetmen. Son filmi A l’Origine’de  Gérard Depardieu oynuyor.

Gaspar Noe – “Enter the Void”

Noe, çektiği filmler ve videokliplerle en çok konuşulan Fransız yönetmenlerden biri. Bu son filmi de ilk gören hayranlarını hayli tatmin etmişe benziyor. İki genç kızın uyuşturucu serüvenini anlatacak filmin Cannes’da beğenilmemesi için pek sebep yok.

Quentin Tarantino – “Inglourious Basterds“

Seveni, sevmeyin var ama, yapacağı yeni işler en çok merak uyandıran şeylerden biri karşımızdaki ismin. Tarantino, 6 yıl önceden haber verdiği filmini bu sefer tamamladı ve film Cannes’da yarışma bölümünde yer alıyor. Film hakkında ayrıntılı bilgi ve Türkçe altyazılı fragman için buraya tıklayınız.

Ken Loach – “Looking for Eric”

Hayli merakla beklenen filmlerden biri daha. Loach’ın nasıl bir yönetmen olduğunu herkes bilir. Bu son filminde usta, Eric Cantona’nın hayatını anlatacak. Filmde Cantona da yer alıyor. Filmin teaser’ı burada.

Lars von Trier – “Antichrist“

Favori yönetmenlerden yakında seyredeceklerimiz de sözünü ettiğim Antichrist filmi, bize biraz daha yaklaşıyor. Willem Dafoe’nun yer aldığı filmin trailer’ını buradan izleyebilirsiniz.

Michael Haneke – “Le Ruban Blanc“

Orjinal adıyla Das Weiße Band, büyük usta Haneke’nin, nasyonel sosyalizmin çıkışını okulda verilen eğitimle sorgulayacak olan son filmi. Trailer’ı henüz bulunmuyor (daha önce verdiğim trailer başka bir Haneke filmine ait idi, yanlışlık için özür dileriz.)

Pedro Almodovar – “Les Etreintes Brisées”

Yeni bir Penelope Cruz-Pedro Almadovar birlikteliği olan, İspanyolca adıyla Los Abrazos rotos (Kırık kucaklamalar?), eski bir aşk hikayesini anlatıyor. Almadovar senaryosu için hayli iddialı konuşuyor. Bakalım, göreceğiz. Filmin Teaser’ı burada.

Isabel Coixet – “Map of the Sounds of Tokyo“

My Life without me ve The Secret life of words filmleriyle dikkatleri üzerine çeken genç İspanyol yönetmen, son filminde bir balıkçıda çalışan aynı zamanda kiralık katil olan birinin öyküsünü anlatacak.

Marco Bellocchio – “Vincere“

60 yaşındaki İtalyan yönetmenin son filmi, Mussolini’nin gizli aşkı Ida Dalser ve oğulları Albin’in öyküsünü anlatıyor.

Jane Campion – “Bright Star“

Karşımızdaki yönetmen, The Piano filmiyle En İyi Orjinal Senaryo dalında Oscar ödülü almış, Yeni Zelandalı bir bayan. Film, 19. yüzyılda geçiyor ve iki şairin üç yıl süren aşklarını konu alıyor.

Andrea Arnold – “Fish Tank“

Wasp isimli kısa filmi ile Oscar kazanan yönetmenin bu kez uzun metrajlı bir filmini izleyeceğiz. Film, 15 yaşındaki bir kız çocuğunun annesinin eve bir erkek arkadaşı getirmesiyle hayatının değişmesini anlatacak.

Johnnie To – “Vengeance“

Hong Konglu yönetmenin yeni filmi Vengeance, yönetmenin aşina olduğu tarzda bir aksiyon & suç filmi. Trailer’ını buradan izleyebilirsiniz.

Lou Ye – “Spring Fever“

Çinli yönetmenin Suzhou he isimli filmi dikkatleri çekmişti, film aynı zamanda İstanbul Film Festivali’nde de gösterilmişti. Yönetmenin Cannes’da yarışacak bu yeni projesi hakkında ise henüz net bir bilgi bulunmuyor.

Philippin Brillante Mendoza – “Kinatay”

Filipinli yönetmenin bağımsız çalışmasının henüz imdb sayfası bulunmuyor ancak Cannes’da yarışacağı duyuruldu.

Park Chan-wook – “Bak-Jwi“

Park yine çarpıcı bir filmle karşımıza çıkmaya hazırlanıyor. Filmin ingilizce adı “Thirst”. Bir vampir draması olacağı söylenen filmin trailer’ı şuradan görülebilir.

Ang Lee – “Taking Woodstock“

Cannes’da oldukça rağbet gören Lee, yine yapacağını yapıyor. Filmin resmi fragmanını buradan izleyebilirsiniz.

Tsai Ming-Liang – “Visages“

Tayvan sinemasının ünlü isminin son filmi, Salomé mitini sinema uyarlamak için Louvre’a giden Tayvanlı bir yönetmenin öyküsünü anlatıyor.

Elia Suleiman – “The Time That Remains“

Filistinli yönetmen Elia Suleiman, son filminde İsrail’in kuruluşundan günümüze kadar olan süreci inceliyor.

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Bu arada, yakında duyuracağım watcheer.net‘i şu an beta olarak kullanabilirsiniz. Watcheer sayesinde takip etmek istediğiniz yönetmenlerin son filmlerine toplu bir şekilde göz atabiliyorsunuz.

Distant and Climates director Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s new film Three Monkeys held the award for best film and best director at Cannes last year.
This Sunday only, The Auteurs are showing it for free before it’s nationwide release in theatres.
Just sign up and watch!

http://www.theauteurs.com/films/1293

http://www.theauteurs.com/sections/24

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