As I reflect on Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s Climates (2006), I can’t help but return to an idea I addressed in yesterday’s blog post – the present-day shift towards increased competition, on both the personal and global levels, degrades interpersonal relationships (Bauman 2-3). The damage that competition does to relationships is seen most strongly during the scene in which Isa (Nuri Bilge Ceylan) and Serap (Nazan Kesal) have sex. As Robin Wood observes, “Seated with [Isa] on the sofa, [Serap] is clearly trying to establish control of the situation: sex as she wants it. Isa takes this as a challenge to his manhood and wrestles her to the floor” (64). The set-up is absurd, as it involves Serap’s repeated refusal to eat a stale nut that has fallen to the floor. To her, it is gross but otherwise not noteworthy. In Isa’s mind, on the other hand, Serap’s refusal is tantamount to something much more serious. The almost funny triviality of the argument makes the subsequent “berserk, brutal sex” –as Bülent Diken describes it (89) – all the more frightening. The fact that something as small as a nut could trigger such a violent reaction suggests that masculinity – in the era of radical feminism – is at its most vulnerable. Even the smallest “attacks” are worth a man defending himself against.
Isa’s outburst is not without a precedent, however, as we see in his interactions with Bahar (Ebru Ceylan) prior to this sexual encounter. Bahar’s “refusals” of Isa – if one can call them that – could be seen as far more serious than Serap’s, but Isa does nothing in response to them. For example, Bahar refuses to say what’s wrong with her at the dinner they have with the other couple early in the film. Later, on the beach, when Isa tells her, “I love you,” Bahar gives no response and walk away. Then, perhaps most wounding of all, when the two break up and Isa offers to still be friends, Bahar says, “We don’t have to be friends. I don’t mind.” All of these moments are – in the most patriarchal sense – are refusals. These refusals accumulate rapidly in the first third of the film, which might lead one to believe that they have built up inside Isa. The violent response to Serap refusing the nut, then, could be considered a “last straw” sort of moment. Here, Isa finds himself faced with an empowered woman, but – unlike with Bahar – he has no special attachment to Serap that a violent outburst could compromise. There is less at stake in terms of keeping her favor, but more at stake in terms of Isa’s masculinity. This moment can be best summed up by thoughts from Ceylan – notably, that he “needs some violence to get rid of the violence inside himself” (qtd. in Diken 90). With the rise of feminine empowerment comes an unfortunate rise in violent and fragile masculinity. Sexual violence is one means by which this violence is ostensibly purged in Climates, though I have to wonder if Ceylan really believes committing outward violence actually “purges” inner violence. What alternatives to violent masculinity exist?
Tying all this back to our course question, masculinity and its predisposition toward violent competition are byproducts of a capitalist system in which economic dominance and relational dominance are hardly distinguishable. Isa’s frightening act of sexual violence toward Serap is simply an expression of this capitalist competitive violence, and it is certainly a roadblock to love.
"Later, on the beach, when Isa tells her, “I love you,” Bahar gives no response": that is to say: not even in her DREAM does she reply....
"Sexual violence is one means by which this violence is ostensibly purged in Climates, though I have to wonder if Ceylan really believes committing outward violence actually “purges” inner violence. What alternatives to violent masculinity exist?" Fair enough. However, as one of the readings suggests (Wood), this sexual violence may or may not be an actual violation of S, given that they see each other again. In other words, what the film at least toys with as a possibility is that S and I's sexual relationship is in-formed by physical force. If nothing else we'd have to say the FILM leave all of this pretty ambiguous; how WE read this, of course, is a different matter (including whether we can even tolerate the idea that some people's intimacy includes force). This ambiguity, of course, raises all kinds of questions about the characters, the film, and its context. Here, too, one might wonder what Wood means by characterizing the film as taking place in the area of "radical feminism."
Your conclusion makes good sense in the context of how you read the film/make a case for reading the film you do. And I appreciate you tying your reading to the broader course topic.
It is plain to see that the way Bilge Ceylan approaches the idea of "no love without money" differently than many other directors. His use of middle to upper class characters looking for love says a lot about this. If this phrase of "no love without money" were true, then the characters should find love. They all Have money and careers, even Bahar. However this is not the case. While the characters attempt another chance at love, ultimately everybody ends up alone and loveless. This is stating that love has nothing to do with the money but rather something deeper. According to "Climates and Other Disasters", this is Ceylan's fourth film, and second regarding city life. One thing is consistent though, and that is the unfulfilled endings. Ceylan uses a reoccurring idea that love is about something deeper, and social class aside, you may or may not find it. This idea is strongly reaffirmed in "Climates" and we leave the movie feeling that social class had nothing to do with the downfall of the love story.
What you are tapping into, via the reading, is the argument of specific sociocultural and economic context v. something that's transcendent, metaphysical, or as the reading calls it, "existential." NBC is a big fan of 19th ct Russian literature, which would explain a tendency to read life through a so-called "existentialist" sense (that is beyond social context). It'd've been good, though, if you'd developed this a bit more by elaborating the argument, including by engaging some specifics from the film.
As I walked to my car after the film, I couldn’t help but reflect upon how little this movie relied on dialogue. My initial thought had been, “Oh, realistic twenty-first century couple fighting on a beachy trip: reminds me a lot of Before Midnight.” However, similarity stops there. Linklater’s trilogy consists of three movies filled with a single couple just talking to each other. Ceylan, on the other hand, manages to depict the pain of this couple’s break-up with so few words. I initially wondered if this were a problematic move, but I ultimately decided that this director managed to make both the relationship and the anguish believable without the repartee.
In response to Eric, I want to pull a quote from his post: “Masculinity and its predisposition toward violent competition are byproducts of a capitalist system in which economic dominance and relational dominance are hardly distinguishable.” Climates forced me to consider gender roles more closely than Jericho did – perhaps because as I was trying to consider how money and love were related, I thought more about the economy of relationships and the currency of being a male, despite this being a “postfeminist” era. Unlike Jerichow, this movie directly discusses money very little. Rather, the only real monetary focus is on the careers of the central couple. As Wood notes, the story essentially begins with a focus on Isa’s job – the couple spends time among ruins so that he can photograph them for his thesis. Already, Isa’s job is central and placed before all else. There are more moments like these, but I think the one that I found most brutal was when Isa insisted that Bahar quit her job in order to move back to Istanbul with him. This connects this concept of liquidity being the nature of modern society, although Isa refuses to see his own life that way. He believes that his female partner’s life must be more easily “liquefied” because it is less valuable.
I most enjoyed reading Robin Wood’s criticism for today, although I did not agree with a couple parts of the article. Then I Googled Robin and realized, “Oh, MALE Robin.” It makes a lot more sense to me now. Wood writes, “Although [Bahar] is absent for the entire middle third of the film, it begins and ends with her alone, and it is the man who is consistently discredited: the best one can say for him is that he knows not what he does – except that he should know. For a director to cast and direct himself in such a role can be construed only as a act of heroism” (62). I wanted to address this, because calling a man’s willingness to portray a (common and) flawed character in the modern era isn’t exactly an act of heroism if he’s referring to it in terms of feminism. It is more an appropriate thing to do.
"I think the one that I found most brutal was when Isa insisted that Bahar quit her job in order to move back to Istanbul with him. This connects this concept of liquidity being the nature of modern society, although Isa refuses to see his own life that way. He believes that his female partner’s life must be more easily “liquefied” because it is less valuable." What we, perhaps, could also point out is that Isa can think of his relationship to a woman only through a pre-liquified ear: one in which things were stable (that is: women stayed at home, didn't work and so on--something that in a relatively more traditional/patriarchal society such as Turkey, compared to more "liberal" Germany were/are only more pronounced/prevalent/"normal"). If B is indeed an emblem of "radical feminism" or/and a symptom of a "postfeminist" moment (whatever that might exactly be), then one might also ask whether THAT moment is symptomatic of the moment of liquidness, that is: is feminism one of the forces that CAUSED the stable social relations to become liquid, and if so, contribute to the negative aspects that ZB suggests characterize our moment, even though the force of feminism itself had no intention of causing such effects? This ambiguity might, perhaps, be reflected by the film itself?
As Lane pointed out in his comment above, Nuri Bilge Ceylan approaches the idea that "one cannot love without money" in a much different way than other directors. Instead of starting with characters who are both low-income and low on love, Ceylan has two upper-middle class individuals with enough money to travel multiple times a year. Isa (Nuri Bilge Ceylan) and Bahar (Ebru Ceylan) have the money, but certainly lack the love in their marriage. These are two very successful individuals, but they still cannot find their old love for each other. It seems as though money alone does not contribute to the lack of love in Isa and Bahar's relationship. The lack of maturity from Isa and the sudden instance of Bahar putting her foot down (rightfully so) is really what drives them apart.
The entire time while watching the film, I was trying to find the connection between money and love. I was feeling really frustrated, especially since "Climates", much like "Jerichow", doesn't directly talk about money much at all. But as Kaitlin pointed out above, I suddenly found the connection when I shifted the focus to the characters' careers. The movie places a heavy focus on Isa's job and the incomplete status of his dissertation while really putting Bahar's career off to the side. In one scene, Isa even demands that Bahar quit her job in order to move back home with him. Maybe this was an attempt to replace the career, and thus money, with love? Maybe by getting rid of the "distraction" that was Bahar's career, there would be enough room to recreate her old love for Isa? Or maybe this could be a manipulative act, one that would have forced Bahar to rely on Isa, financially speaking, much like Laura relying on Ali from "Jerichow".
No matter what "reason" Isa had for asking Bahar to quit her job, it still proves that he is immature and almost infantile in his thoughts and relationship skills. Even after he promises he'll change, "[Bahar] knows at once that the relationship is over. It is clear that, for all his protests of 'needing' her, he has learned precisely nothing." (page 64, "Climates and Other Disasters")
One thing of which I like to remind everyone: as I said on Monday, the course topic ought to be conceived in its broadest terms--and you are doing a good job in these posts on Climates. Not every movie will thematic love-money connection as tightly and explicitly as Jerichow did (not even CP's other films, perhaps). So even better that you make the imaginative leap and connect the topic to an issue that is "beyond" money--career/job (of course that's about money too but also about more). The point of the course topic is really to see how these (fairly) contemporary films examine the relationship between (private) subjectivity and public forces in the age of neoliberalism/finance capitalism/liquid times and what the latter's conditions do w/r/t the former's ability to live life.
One point: when using a quotation one should, generally, introduce it (set it up) and then work with it (explain it). It's normally not a good idea to end one's OWN writing on someone ELSE's ideas. That just asks readers to do the interpretative work that the author should do herself.
Looking back at the film Climates (2006) by Nuri Bilge Ceylan, it sets up the beginning with questions. What are they doing in that relic region? Are they on vacation? Later to be shown it was known as Kar and Isa (Nuri Bilge Ceylan) was doing his thesis work. Although, what is interesting about the beginning is the break between the two characters, Bahar (Ebru Ceylan) seems to be happy but is tragically very depressed as she exposes herself in the start by crying. It stands clearly as the film proceeds the Bahar is unhappy, yet Isa fails to see the uncertainty of her. Moving further along, the beach scene Bahar dreams of herself getting choked by Isa and wakes up rather scared. Shortly after, Isa and Bahar leave in a motorcycle, and she puts her hands over his eyes. Frighten by this, Isa gets mad and asks if she is crazy and wants to dye. It causes more tension in their relationship. The relationship comes to a sudden stop, and the film allows Isa to encounter Serap (Nazan Kesal). The plot moves along with Isa showing up Seraps apartment, illustrating the way the characters interact they have some history together. The tension seems to get tighter as Isa moves closer to Serap. All of a sudden, the violence displayed by lust seems a bit abnormal between two people. What looks like Isa forcing Serap is just rough, but she appears to like it and comes back healthy at him. The dynamic properties of them taking off their clothes is interesting but why choose such a violent way to capture this scene? Next, the transition to Isa parents feels to leave me with questions. Why did they show his parents for such a short period? What is the significance of his parents in the film? The only explanation I come clear of is the advice he attains from his parents about having his family. The scene transitions swiftly to his apartment but what I notice he takes out a drawer from the dresser and places his head in it. What does the drawer symbolize? Soon it seems Isa come clear of what his parent tell him. He travels to a snowy village to find Bahar living there. When Isa encounters Bahar, it seems Isa feels remorse for what happened between them in the relationship. He sets up a reason to find her, and it was the pictures he wanted to give her. The love exploits through the two characters, but Bahar seems to hold back because of trust and the past. All of her emotions fall back into place for she truly loves Isa. His conniving lust of Serap doesn’t seem to affect him because he lies when Bahar ask if he went to see Serap again after they broke up, meaning it isn’t the first time this incident must have happened. They don’t end up together, Robin Wood explains, “ no one, in any of the films, get what he or she wants, and this pervasive lack is very closely tied both to social conditions and the possibility of some deeper, all-pervasive, and fundamental unsatisfactoriness in the realities of human existence” (59). It makes me question Nuri Bilge Ceylan if deep down he has a sense of feeling unhappy himself in real life. The film Climates sets a tone for the women because the male counterpart fails to meet the expectation of the female. Robin states “ the feminist movement’s call for equality and recognition has left many women more dissatisfied than ever”(62) – with the Isa not having his clear thoughts in right action. The film, of course, tells the story that women will not wait forever for the male to finally find what he wants in the relationship.
Wood's insight into the film's discussion of gender dynamics in relationships in a postfeminist era really allowed me to meditate on the broader issues the film addresses. Beyond being a generally selfish person, Isa clearly has a problematic relationship with women and an archaic view of gender politics in relationships. Isa, played brilliantly by the director with equal parts self-loathing and self-confidence, reflects "men's failure to catch up and readjust" (Wood 62) to a postfeminist world. In his (imagined?) conversation with Bahar on the beach, Isa concedes that maybe the reason their relationship is failing is his considerably older age, an issue he implies was brought up earlier. Perhaps his only moment of self-awareness in the film, I would suggest that this age difference is part of the problem, but Isa isn't getting the full picture: he's older than her, true, but the real problem is the age of his hyper-traditional, oppressive conceptualization of gender roles. It appears that mentally he can't quite grasp the empowered and intelligent Bahar; his intrinsic belief that she will quietly and willingly serve as his domesticated spouse is what strains their relationship, and acts as the larger social commentary that I was unable to find while watching. Even his pleas to Bahar to return in the ending of the film fail to demonstrate any growth in this area, despite his insistence that he's doing away with his emphasis on material goods (as if that were ever the problem). In demanding that she come away with him and leave behind her job so he can continue to do his work, which of course allows her to realize that little has changed. Isa wants to be in charge of both the love and the money, so to speak, and can't function in a postfeminist world that should (*should*) be delegating both of these responsibilities equally in a relationship.
Isa's problem with gender and sexuality extends beyond his inability to privilege Bahar's life as much as his own. As evidenced in the uncomfortably aggressive sex with his former lover Serap, Isa appears to have a problem with women that extends beyond an inability to deal with postfeminist ideals and extends to violent fantasies about them (I actually thought he raped her at first, but Diken and other sources describe it as overly aggressive sex). In Diken's "Climates of Nihilism", he offers that this scene could be for Isa "a traumatic intervention by the 'real' into the realm of symbolic" (90-91) that finds him exercising very real desires in a less harmful, but still completely brutal, manner. Whether Diken is ultimately correct or not, it is difficult to watch that scene and not concede that Isa is releasing some sort of sexual aggression that has been bottling for some time. Harkening back to his confusion in a postfeminist world, this particular act could very well be some sort of physical manifestation of his desire to domineer women not only sexually, but also socially and financially.
The most powerful visuals in the film are shot through Bahar's perspective, and typically serve to highlight Isa's blatant ignorance of his own selfishness. That opening scene, especially, where Bahar watches with an expression that changes from content to sadness to utter defeat and desperation while her husband aimlessly photographs ruins is captivating. While Isa's story comprises most of the film, Bahar is clearly the sympathetic character here and a vehicle through which the audience can feel the frustration towards men that can't move beyond their selfish and downright childish sense of superiority.
"acts as the larger social commentary that I was unable to find while watching." Say more about this. What about the film prevented you from finding this while watching? And what implications might this have for the film's "political" aspect?
On the first day of class, the idea of boredom as interesting in it’s own right had come up, although temporarily, and just in reference to the slow build of some of the films we would be watching this semester. In the opening scene of Climates (2006), my mind immediately went back to this idea. A quiet, long-but-short moment of a woman, Bahar (Ebru Ceylan), watching a man, seemingly in his element, and being completely un-entertained by it all - sighing, glancing around quickly, etc. The first line in the film, delivered by that man, Isa (Nuri Bilge Ceylan), is “Are you bored?” and Bahar politely lies - “No.” They are in ruins. Isa is taking pictures of these deteriorating pillars in the middle of a desert and Bahar is playing companion. Then, this long, 2-minute or so continuous shot of Bahar after she has crawled up on a hill overlooking the area. “During the long take the woman’s face undergoes a whole range of expression, first suggesting affection […] But her face quickly sets, the troubled look returns” (Robin Wood, “Climates and other Disasters”). Among the many emotions (doubt, anger, regret) Ebru Ceylan displays beautifully is boredom. This string of boredom shapes these first moments we get to see into this couple’s life together. They meet up with friends, and take no issue with having a fight at the table as they wait for their after-dinner coffee, fueled by anger that appears to have come from nowhere. Even their host sees this moment of rage as entirely trivial, but they still snip back and forth at each other, most likely out of the boredom they, or maybe more appropriately, just Isa, face in both their romantic lives and, as we later find out, Isa faces in his career, as he has yet to complete his thesis, to achieve his Ph.D. Then, to the beach - Bahar is asleep and dreams about a relationship full of playful love, then wakes up after being choked by Isa in her dream. Bahar has been the focus of the majority of shots so far, with her long close-up and her being positioned in the foreground of the dinner scene. After waking up, the focus shifts to Isa, as Bahar wanders into the water. Edited to appear as if he is talking to himself, a close-up on Isa as he explains to Bahar why they must end their relationship, cut with Bahar’s wading into the sea, suddenly cuts to his profile, where he moves across the screen to reveal that Bahar has been there for his speech. I love this moment, and it seems to be something Ceylan himself loves, as it creates this funky little shift that feels like how memory works. I was in the water, and then he told me we needed to take a break. He does this later, like when Bahar is confidently telling her second dream of the film to Isa, and she realizes that it really is over by his actions, and the sound of crying begins impeding on the scene, originally thought to have been from her, but actually coming from the next scene - actors on Bahar’s set. Or, before this moment, Isa goes to take pictures of ruins of a palace, and we don’t see the actual palace until he moves out of the shot - he is perfectly blocking it. To bring it back to boredom, though, Wood, in “Climates and other Disasters,” talks about this being a post-1970s/80s feminism movement love story, where woman is unsatisfied with man’s inability to catch up to the inequalities they have been facing and are now vocal about. Isa’s boredom, exhibited by his inability to find the desire to finish his thesis, to let go of Bahar on the reliance of a guaranteed fling with another woman, Serap (Nazan Kesal), and then his boredom with Serap when it could become something more committal - this is Isa’s mental struggle to be satisfied. Even then, once he decides to turn back to Bahar, chasing her down to her set, and she begins to think him capable of change, he becomes bored of that, too. Overall, I am impressed with how well all of this can be conveyed through silence.
Interesting observation regarding the way NBC frequently cuts from one scene to another where the SOUNDS of the next scene appears already when we still see the IMAGE of the previous one. What does this do? Why edit this way?
In his 2006 film Climates, director Nuri Bilege Ceylan utilizes landscape and scenery to convey Bahar and Isa’s relationship status. Ceylan gives the scenery a chance to speak for the couple during the times when the couple is unable to speak to one another. This is prevalent in the beginning of the film, during the couple’s trip to Kas for the summer. Here, the movie opens up to ruins, almost to describe to the audience that their relationship is also in ruins. The shifts in the weather or “climate” also plays a role within the storyline by signifying the changes in Isa, as well as the increasing “emotional distance between” the couple (Review of Climates 235). As Cardullo describes, Ceylan creates many different “cinematic atmospheres” that he coins as “microclimates” to describe the constantly changing moods (Climates of Nihilism 91). In summer, we see the end of Isa and Bahar’s relationship and the little emotion Isa has towards Bahar. As autumn hits, Isa’s behavior switches to violent and lust driven, the complete opposite from his summer self. His relationship with Bahar is seemingly nonexistent now, due to the affair with Serap and Bahar disappearing. However, as winter draws near, we can see a change in Isa after he refuses Serap’s advances and decides to travel to East Turkey to visit Bahar. Winter also brings about a new change in Isa where he wants to be a better man and reconcile with Bahar. In this instance, Isa chooses to forego going to a warm destination and instead see Bahar in the cold. This tells the viewers that Isa is actively choosing to not go back to his summer self, where his life and relationship were in ruins. Therefore, this new “microclimate” has us believe that Isa has changed for the better, causing Bahar to visit his hotel room and spend a night with him. Despite this, Isa goes into yet another “microclimate” and he dismisses Bahar’s openness with the question of when she needs to be on set. In this moment, we can see Bahar’s face fall as she realizes he has not changed. With this realization, it almost references that summer, autumn, or winter will always come back, showing that the Isa from those times will also come back. Isa ultimately has not changed and the transition from winter into the next climate, shown by Isa traveling in the plane, illustrates how their relationship is finally over. With the different techniques Ceylan uses within his film, he creates a realistic experience for the viewers. Ceyaln gives the audience the feeling of watching a struggling couple in real life and trying to decipher what is happening “more from their behavior than from their dialogue” (Climates of Nihilism 91). While watching people in real life, we are not clued into their conversation, so we must make conclusions based on their facial expressions. Ceylan provides that same experience with silence and close ups, so that we may detect the slight nuances in their expression and “fill in the blanks ourselves” (Review of Climates 235).
At the completion of this film I was left feeling that the concept of love and economic status was shallower in this film and deserved a more critical thinking element. I believe that this film shows that even when people are well of or have a job where there is a steady flow of income love is still untenable. Isa is not the richest man but he is well educated and is currently working towards elevating his education with finishing his thesis. Bahar is a hard workingwomen that has made her career her life after the breakup with Isa. Even though they both seem to have their life’s together to the standards that is placed upon them in today’s world, they are actually struggling to fill a certain aspect in their life and that is love. The dream sequence on the beach really stood out to me and I thought of it as an actual metaphor for the whole film. The dream begins a sleeping Bahar who seems to be enjoying herself very much and then she awoken by Isa and they kiss with Isa saying “I love you” she does not respond prompting one to think that even in this happy sequence that she still is not fully committed to Isa. Then Isa joyfully covers the body of Bahar leaving just her head exposed where he thing begins to fill and suffocate Bahar. The dream begins happy and steadily grows darker and unhappy just as there relationship in real life. As Isa smothers her in her dream betraying her trust, this pertains to the fact that in real life Isa gains the trust of Bahar and once she gives in by coming back to the hotel after saying no, he betrays her and leaves her once more. Also Isa sees whom I think he may have cheated on Bahar with women his colleague is seeing. Isa sees her and lies to bahar saying that he didn’t see her once again betraying her trust.
“Then Isa joyfully covers the body of Bahar leaving just her head exposed where he thing begins to fill and suffocate Bahar. The dream begins happy and steadily grows darker and unhappy just as there relationship in real life. As Isa smothers her in her dream betraying her trust, this pertains to the fact that in real life Isa gains the trust of Bahar and once she gives in by coming back to the hotel after saying no, he betrays her and leaves her once more.”
During roughly the middle portion of the film Climates, the character Isa, played by the film’s writer and director, Nuri Bilge Ceylan, in regard to a series of photographs, exhorts a group of his students to “pay attention to differences in architecture” while in class (2008). Isa’s words at first seem to have little more content than the passing entreaty of an instructor to his student body toward the end of a class he teaches; in the film, Ceylan portrays an associate professor who has a special interest in ancient architecture. The line could well easily be missed by a casual audience were it not made conspicuous by a rather appreciable lack of dialogue among the characters of Ceylan’s film. While the words do indeed have little bearing on the immediate action of the film (coming before Isa leaves class and meets with a fellow faculty member with whom he makes plans to play a game of tennis), it does foreground thematic elements of what Jonathan Romney describes as a “complex, understated narrative” (235). Ceylan’s film follows the disintegration of a romantic relationship between the characters Isa and Bahar, a collapse which is marked at the film’s opening, and is portrayed by the director most notably through spatial relationships and facial expressions, as pointed out by Wood (62). It is no accident that we are introduced to Isa and Bahar as the former photographs a series of ruins and the latter becomes ever more distant, physically moving away from Isa; what Ceylan offers the viewer of his film is a study of an edifice in collapse, or, rather edifices in collapse. Diken interprets this collapse as portraying two sides of nihilism manifest in the characters (87), while Wood calls for a feminist reading of the film (62). While either of these interpretations are viable, one could also offer a reading which critiques the condition of contemporary relationships, romantic and otherwise. Boredom and counter-positions permeate the film; at its start, Isa asks Bahar if she is bored while he examines the ruins. Her negative answer, clearly a lie, mirrors Isa’s lies throughout the film—most notably the one which he tells to Bahar when she asks Isa whether or not he has seen Serap (a former lover of his) after he and Bahar have tentatively gone their separate ways. Ceylan also offers the audience a view of other social spaces in ruin. For example, according to Dilken, upon a chance meeting with Serap, Isa and an acquaintance of his, Guven, seem to “congratulate themselves on their non-commitment” to their very friendship (89) . Ceylan uses architectural collapse or abandonment as a trope for the contemporary failing of community and kinship. But this collapse is not simply collective—Bahar’s collapse is different from Isa’s—it is an individual experience, one which demands a degree of distance from one individual to the other.
As I reflect on Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s Climates (2006), I can’t help but return to an idea I addressed in yesterday’s blog post – the present-day shift towards increased competition, on both the personal and global levels, degrades interpersonal relationships (Bauman 2-3). The damage that competition does to relationships is seen most strongly during the scene in which Isa (Nuri Bilge Ceylan) and Serap (Nazan Kesal) have sex. As Robin Wood observes, “Seated with [Isa] on the sofa, [Serap] is clearly trying to establish control of the situation: sex as she wants it. Isa takes this as a challenge to his manhood and wrestles her to the floor” (64). The set-up is absurd, as it involves Serap’s repeated refusal to eat a stale nut that has fallen to the floor. To her, it is gross but otherwise not noteworthy. In Isa’s mind, on the other hand, Serap’s refusal is tantamount to something much more serious. The almost funny triviality of the argument makes the subsequent “berserk, brutal sex” –as Bülent Diken describes it (89) – all the more frightening. The fact that something as small as a nut could trigger such a violent reaction suggests that masculinity – in the era of radical feminism – is at its most vulnerable. Even the smallest “attacks” are worth a man defending himself against.
ReplyDeleteIsa’s outburst is not without a precedent, however, as we see in his interactions with Bahar (Ebru Ceylan) prior to this sexual encounter. Bahar’s “refusals” of Isa – if one can call them that – could be seen as far more serious than Serap’s, but Isa does nothing in response to them. For example, Bahar refuses to say what’s wrong with her at the dinner they have with the other couple early in the film. Later, on the beach, when Isa tells her, “I love you,” Bahar gives no response and walk away. Then, perhaps most wounding of all, when the two break up and Isa offers to still be friends, Bahar says, “We don’t have to be friends. I don’t mind.” All of these moments are – in the most patriarchal sense – are refusals. These refusals accumulate rapidly in the first third of the film, which might lead one to believe that they have built up inside Isa. The violent response to Serap refusing the nut, then, could be considered a “last straw” sort of moment. Here, Isa finds himself faced with an empowered woman, but – unlike with Bahar – he has no special attachment to Serap that a violent outburst could compromise. There is less at stake in terms of keeping her favor, but more at stake in terms of Isa’s masculinity. This moment can be best summed up by thoughts from Ceylan – notably, that he “needs some violence to get rid of the violence inside himself” (qtd. in Diken 90). With the rise of feminine empowerment comes an unfortunate rise in violent and fragile masculinity. Sexual violence is one means by which this violence is ostensibly purged in Climates, though I have to wonder if Ceylan really believes committing outward violence actually “purges” inner violence. What alternatives to violent masculinity exist?
Tying all this back to our course question, masculinity and its predisposition toward violent competition are byproducts of a capitalist system in which economic dominance and relational dominance are hardly distinguishable. Isa’s frightening act of sexual violence toward Serap is simply an expression of this capitalist competitive violence, and it is certainly a roadblock to love.
"Later, on the beach, when Isa tells her, “I love you,” Bahar gives no response": that is to say: not even in her DREAM does she reply....
Delete"Sexual violence is one means by which this violence is ostensibly purged in Climates, though I have to wonder if Ceylan really believes committing outward violence actually “purges” inner violence. What alternatives to violent masculinity exist?" Fair enough. However, as one of the readings suggests (Wood), this sexual violence may or may not be an actual violation of S, given that they see each other again. In other words, what the film at least toys with as a possibility is that S and I's sexual relationship is in-formed by physical force. If nothing else we'd have to say the FILM leave all of this pretty ambiguous; how WE read this, of course, is a different matter (including whether we can even tolerate the idea that some people's intimacy includes force). This ambiguity, of course, raises all kinds of questions about the characters, the film, and its context. Here, too, one might wonder what Wood means by characterizing the film as taking place in the area of "radical feminism."
Your conclusion makes good sense in the context of how you read the film/make a case for reading the film you do. And I appreciate you tying your reading to the broader course topic.
It is plain to see that the way Bilge Ceylan approaches the idea of "no love without money" differently than many other directors. His use of middle to upper class characters looking for love says a lot about this. If this phrase of "no love without money" were true, then the characters should find love. They all Have money and careers, even Bahar. However this is not the case. While the characters attempt another chance at love, ultimately everybody ends up alone and loveless. This is stating that love has nothing to do with the money but rather something deeper. According to "Climates and Other Disasters", this is Ceylan's fourth film, and second regarding city life. One thing is consistent though, and that is the unfulfilled endings. Ceylan uses a reoccurring idea that love is about something deeper, and social class aside, you may or may not find it. This idea is strongly reaffirmed in "Climates" and we leave the movie feeling that social class had nothing to do with the downfall of the love story.
ReplyDeleteWhat you are tapping into, via the reading, is the argument of specific sociocultural and economic context v. something that's transcendent, metaphysical, or as the reading calls it, "existential." NBC is a big fan of 19th ct Russian literature, which would explain a tendency to read life through a so-called "existentialist" sense (that is beyond social context). It'd've been good, though, if you'd developed this a bit more by elaborating the argument, including by engaging some specifics from the film.
DeleteAs I walked to my car after the film, I couldn’t help but reflect upon how little this movie relied on dialogue. My initial thought had been, “Oh, realistic twenty-first century couple fighting on a beachy trip: reminds me a lot of Before Midnight.” However, similarity stops there. Linklater’s trilogy consists of three movies filled with a single couple just talking to each other. Ceylan, on the other hand, manages to depict the pain of this couple’s break-up with so few words. I initially wondered if this were a problematic move, but I ultimately decided that this director managed to make both the relationship and the anguish believable without the repartee.
ReplyDeleteIn response to Eric, I want to pull a quote from his post: “Masculinity and its predisposition toward violent competition are byproducts of a capitalist system in which economic dominance and relational dominance are hardly distinguishable.” Climates forced me to consider gender roles more closely than Jericho did – perhaps because as I was trying to consider how money and love were related, I thought more about the economy of relationships and the currency of being a male, despite this being a “postfeminist” era. Unlike Jerichow, this movie directly discusses money very little. Rather, the only real monetary focus is on the careers of the central couple. As Wood notes, the story essentially begins with a focus on Isa’s job – the couple spends time among ruins so that he can photograph them for his thesis. Already, Isa’s job is central and placed before all else. There are more moments like these, but I think the one that I found most brutal was when Isa insisted that Bahar quit her job in order to move back to Istanbul with him. This connects this concept of liquidity being the nature of modern society, although Isa refuses to see his own life that way. He believes that his female partner’s life must be more easily “liquefied” because it is less valuable.
I most enjoyed reading Robin Wood’s criticism for today, although I did not agree with a couple parts of the article. Then I Googled Robin and realized, “Oh, MALE Robin.” It makes a lot more sense to me now. Wood writes, “Although [Bahar] is absent for the entire middle third of the film, it begins and ends with her alone, and it is the man who is consistently discredited: the best one can say for him is that he knows not what he does – except that he should know. For a director to cast and direct himself in such a role can be construed only as a act of heroism” (62). I wanted to address this, because calling a man’s willingness to portray a (common and) flawed character in the modern era isn’t exactly an act of heroism if he’s referring to it in terms of feminism. It is more an appropriate thing to do.
"I think the one that I found most brutal was when Isa insisted that Bahar quit her job in order to move back to Istanbul with him. This connects this concept of liquidity being the nature of modern society, although Isa refuses to see his own life that way. He believes that his female partner’s life must be more easily “liquefied” because it is less valuable." What we, perhaps, could also point out is that Isa can think of his relationship to a woman only through a pre-liquified ear: one in which things were stable (that is: women stayed at home, didn't work and so on--something that in a relatively more traditional/patriarchal society such as Turkey, compared to more "liberal" Germany were/are only more pronounced/prevalent/"normal"). If B is indeed an emblem of "radical feminism" or/and a symptom of a "postfeminist" moment (whatever that might exactly be), then one might also ask whether THAT moment is symptomatic of the moment of liquidness, that is: is feminism one of the forces that CAUSED the stable social relations to become liquid, and if so, contribute to the negative aspects that ZB suggests characterize our moment, even though the force of feminism itself had no intention of causing such effects? This ambiguity might, perhaps, be reflected by the film itself?
DeleteAs Lane pointed out in his comment above, Nuri Bilge Ceylan approaches the idea that "one cannot love without money" in a much different way than other directors. Instead of starting with characters who are both low-income and low on love, Ceylan has two upper-middle class individuals with enough money to travel multiple times a year. Isa (Nuri Bilge Ceylan) and Bahar (Ebru Ceylan) have the money, but certainly lack the love in their marriage. These are two very successful individuals, but they still cannot find their old love for each other. It seems as though money alone does not contribute to the lack of love in Isa and Bahar's relationship. The lack of maturity from Isa and the sudden instance of Bahar putting her foot down (rightfully so) is really what drives them apart.
ReplyDeleteThe entire time while watching the film, I was trying to find the connection between money and love. I was feeling really frustrated, especially since "Climates", much like "Jerichow", doesn't directly talk about money much at all. But as Kaitlin pointed out above, I suddenly found the connection when I shifted the focus to the characters' careers. The movie places a heavy focus on Isa's job and the incomplete status of his dissertation while really putting Bahar's career off to the side. In one scene, Isa even demands that Bahar quit her job in order to move back home with him. Maybe this was an attempt to replace the career, and thus money, with love? Maybe by getting rid of the "distraction" that was Bahar's career, there would be enough room to recreate her old love for Isa? Or maybe this could be a manipulative act, one that would have forced Bahar to rely on Isa, financially speaking, much like Laura relying on Ali from "Jerichow".
No matter what "reason" Isa had for asking Bahar to quit her job, it still proves that he is immature and almost infantile in his thoughts and relationship skills. Even after he promises he'll change, "[Bahar] knows at once that the relationship is over. It is clear that, for all his protests of 'needing' her, he has learned precisely nothing." (page 64, "Climates and Other Disasters")
One thing of which I like to remind everyone: as I said on Monday, the course topic ought to be conceived in its broadest terms--and you are doing a good job in these posts on Climates. Not every movie will thematic love-money connection as tightly and explicitly as Jerichow did (not even CP's other films, perhaps). So even better that you make the imaginative leap and connect the topic to an issue that is "beyond" money--career/job (of course that's about money too but also about more). The point of the course topic is really to see how these (fairly) contemporary films examine the relationship between (private) subjectivity and public forces in the age of neoliberalism/finance capitalism/liquid times and what the latter's conditions do w/r/t the former's ability to live life.
DeleteOne point: when using a quotation one should, generally, introduce it (set it up) and then work with it (explain it). It's normally not a good idea to end one's OWN writing on someone ELSE's ideas. That just asks readers to do the interpretative work that the author should do herself.
Looking back at the film Climates (2006) by Nuri Bilge Ceylan, it sets up the beginning with questions. What are they doing in that relic region? Are they on vacation? Later to be shown it was known as Kar and Isa (Nuri Bilge Ceylan) was doing his thesis work. Although, what is interesting about the beginning is the break between the two characters, Bahar (Ebru Ceylan) seems to be happy but is tragically very depressed as she exposes herself in the start by crying. It stands clearly as the film proceeds the Bahar is unhappy, yet Isa fails to see the uncertainty of her. Moving further along, the beach scene Bahar dreams of herself getting choked by Isa and wakes up rather scared. Shortly after, Isa and Bahar leave in a motorcycle, and she puts her hands over his eyes. Frighten by this, Isa gets mad and asks if she is crazy and wants to dye. It causes more tension in their relationship.
ReplyDeleteThe relationship comes to a sudden stop, and the film allows Isa to encounter Serap (Nazan Kesal). The plot moves along with Isa showing up Seraps apartment, illustrating the way the characters interact they have some history together. The tension seems to get tighter as Isa moves closer to Serap. All of a sudden, the violence displayed by lust seems a bit abnormal between two people. What looks like Isa forcing Serap is just rough, but she appears to like it and comes back healthy at him. The dynamic properties of them taking off their clothes is interesting but why choose such a violent way to capture this scene?
Next, the transition to Isa parents feels to leave me with questions. Why did they show his parents for such a short period? What is the significance of his parents in the film? The only explanation I come clear of is the advice he attains from his parents about having his family. The scene transitions swiftly to his apartment but what I notice he takes out a drawer from the dresser and places his head in it. What does the drawer symbolize?
Soon it seems Isa come clear of what his parent tell him. He travels to a snowy village to find Bahar living there. When Isa encounters Bahar, it seems Isa feels remorse for what happened between them in the relationship. He sets up a reason to find her, and it was the pictures he wanted to give her. The love exploits through the two characters, but Bahar seems to hold back because of trust and the past. All of her emotions fall back into place for she truly loves Isa. His conniving lust of Serap doesn’t seem to affect him because he lies when Bahar ask if he went to see Serap again after they broke up, meaning it isn’t the first time this incident must have happened.
They don’t end up together, Robin Wood explains, “ no one, in any of the films, get what he or she wants, and this pervasive lack is very closely tied both to social conditions and the possibility of some deeper, all-pervasive, and fundamental unsatisfactoriness in the realities of human existence” (59). It makes me question Nuri Bilge Ceylan if deep down he has a sense of feeling unhappy himself in real life. The film Climates sets a tone for the women because the male counterpart fails to meet the expectation of the female. Robin states “ the feminist movement’s call for equality and recognition has left many women more dissatisfied than ever”(62) – with the Isa not having his clear thoughts in right action. The film, of course, tells the story that women will not wait forever for the male to finally find what he wants in the relationship.
Wood's insight into the film's discussion of gender dynamics in relationships in a postfeminist era really allowed me to meditate on the broader issues the film addresses. Beyond being a generally selfish person, Isa clearly has a problematic relationship with women and an archaic view of gender politics in relationships. Isa, played brilliantly by the director with equal parts self-loathing and self-confidence, reflects "men's failure to catch up and readjust" (Wood 62) to a postfeminist world. In his (imagined?) conversation with Bahar on the beach, Isa concedes that maybe the reason their relationship is failing is his considerably older age, an issue he implies was brought up earlier. Perhaps his only moment of self-awareness in the film, I would suggest that this age difference is part of the problem, but Isa isn't getting the full picture: he's older than her, true, but the real problem is the age of his hyper-traditional, oppressive conceptualization of gender roles. It appears that mentally he can't quite grasp the empowered and intelligent Bahar; his intrinsic belief that she will quietly and willingly serve as his domesticated spouse is what strains their relationship, and acts as the larger social commentary that I was unable to find while watching. Even his pleas to Bahar to return in the ending of the film fail to demonstrate any growth in this area, despite his insistence that he's doing away with his emphasis on material goods (as if that were ever the problem). In demanding that she come away with him and leave behind her job so he can continue to do his work, which of course allows her to realize that little has changed. Isa wants to be in charge of both the love and the money, so to speak, and can't function in a postfeminist world that should (*should*) be delegating both of these responsibilities equally in a relationship.
ReplyDeleteIsa's problem with gender and sexuality extends beyond his inability to privilege Bahar's life as much as his own. As evidenced in the uncomfortably aggressive sex with his former lover Serap, Isa appears to have a problem with women that extends beyond an inability to deal with postfeminist ideals and extends to violent fantasies about them (I actually thought he raped her at first, but Diken and other sources describe it as overly aggressive sex). In Diken's "Climates of Nihilism", he offers that this scene could be for Isa "a traumatic intervention by the 'real' into the realm of symbolic" (90-91) that finds him exercising very real desires in a less harmful, but still completely brutal, manner. Whether Diken is ultimately correct or not, it is difficult to watch that scene and not concede that Isa is releasing some sort of sexual aggression that has been bottling for some time. Harkening back to his confusion in a postfeminist world, this particular act could very well be some sort of physical manifestation of his desire to domineer women not only sexually, but also socially and financially.
The most powerful visuals in the film are shot through Bahar's perspective, and typically serve to highlight Isa's blatant ignorance of his own selfishness. That opening scene, especially, where Bahar watches with an expression that changes from content to sadness to utter defeat and desperation while her husband aimlessly photographs ruins is captivating. While Isa's story comprises most of the film, Bahar is clearly the sympathetic character here and a vehicle through which the audience can feel the frustration towards men that can't move beyond their selfish and downright childish sense of superiority.
"acts as the larger social commentary that I was unable to find while watching." Say more about this. What about the film prevented you from finding this while watching? And what implications might this have for the film's "political" aspect?
DeleteOn the first day of class, the idea of boredom as interesting in it’s own right had come up, although temporarily, and just in reference to the slow build of some of the films we would be watching this semester. In the opening scene of Climates (2006), my mind immediately went back to this idea. A quiet, long-but-short moment of a woman, Bahar (Ebru Ceylan), watching a man, seemingly in his element, and being completely un-entertained by it all - sighing, glancing around quickly, etc. The first line in the film, delivered by that man, Isa (Nuri Bilge Ceylan), is “Are you bored?” and Bahar politely lies - “No.”
ReplyDeleteThey are in ruins. Isa is taking pictures of these deteriorating pillars in the middle of a desert and Bahar is playing companion. Then, this long, 2-minute or so continuous shot of Bahar after she has crawled up on a hill overlooking the area. “During the long take the woman’s face undergoes a whole range of expression, first suggesting affection […] But her face quickly sets, the troubled look returns” (Robin Wood, “Climates and other Disasters”). Among the many emotions (doubt, anger, regret) Ebru Ceylan displays beautifully is boredom. This string of boredom shapes these first moments we get to see into this couple’s life together. They meet up with friends, and take no issue with having a fight at the table as they wait for their after-dinner coffee, fueled by anger that appears to have come from nowhere. Even their host sees this moment of rage as entirely trivial, but they still snip back and forth at each other, most likely out of the boredom they, or maybe more appropriately, just Isa, face in both their romantic lives and, as we later find out, Isa faces in his career, as he has yet to complete his thesis, to achieve his Ph.D. Then, to the beach - Bahar is asleep and dreams about a relationship full of playful love, then wakes up after being choked by Isa in her dream. Bahar has been the focus of the majority of shots so far, with her long close-up and her being positioned in the foreground of the dinner scene. After waking up, the focus shifts to Isa, as Bahar wanders into the water. Edited to appear as if he is talking to himself, a close-up on Isa as he explains to Bahar why they must end their relationship, cut with Bahar’s wading into the sea, suddenly cuts to his profile, where he moves across the screen to reveal that Bahar has been there for his speech. I love this moment, and it seems to be something Ceylan himself loves, as it creates this funky little shift that feels like how memory works. I was in the water, and then he told me we needed to take a break. He does this later, like when Bahar is confidently telling her second dream of the film to Isa, and she realizes that it really is over by his actions, and the sound of crying begins impeding on the scene, originally thought to have been from her, but actually coming from the next scene - actors on Bahar’s set. Or, before this moment, Isa goes to take pictures of ruins of a palace, and we don’t see the actual palace until he moves out of the shot - he is perfectly blocking it.
To bring it back to boredom, though, Wood, in “Climates and other Disasters,” talks about this being a post-1970s/80s feminism movement love story, where woman is unsatisfied with man’s inability to catch up to the inequalities they have been facing and are now vocal about. Isa’s boredom, exhibited by his inability to find the desire to finish his thesis, to let go of Bahar on the reliance of a guaranteed fling with another woman, Serap (Nazan Kesal), and then his boredom with Serap when it could become something more committal - this is Isa’s mental struggle to be satisfied. Even then, once he decides to turn back to Bahar, chasing her down to her set, and she begins to think him capable of change, he becomes bored of that, too.
Overall, I am impressed with how well all of this can be conveyed through silence.
Interesting observation regarding the way NBC frequently cuts from one scene to another where the SOUNDS of the next scene appears already when we still see the IMAGE of the previous one. What does this do? Why edit this way?
DeleteIn his 2006 film Climates, director Nuri Bilege Ceylan utilizes landscape and scenery to convey Bahar and Isa’s relationship status. Ceylan gives the scenery a chance to speak for the couple during the times when the couple is unable to speak to one another. This is prevalent in the beginning of the film, during the couple’s trip to Kas for the summer. Here, the movie opens up to ruins, almost to describe to the audience that their relationship is also in ruins. The shifts in the weather or “climate” also plays a role within the storyline by signifying the changes in Isa, as well as the increasing “emotional distance between” the couple (Review of Climates 235). As Cardullo describes, Ceylan creates many different “cinematic atmospheres” that he coins as “microclimates” to describe the constantly changing moods (Climates of Nihilism 91). In summer, we see the end of Isa and Bahar’s relationship and the little emotion Isa has towards Bahar. As autumn hits, Isa’s behavior switches to violent and lust driven, the complete opposite from his summer self. His relationship with Bahar is seemingly nonexistent now, due to the affair with Serap and Bahar disappearing. However, as winter draws near, we can see a change in Isa after he refuses Serap’s advances and decides to travel to East Turkey to visit Bahar. Winter also brings about a new change in Isa where he wants to be a better man and reconcile with Bahar. In this instance, Isa chooses to forego going to a warm destination and instead see Bahar in the cold. This tells the viewers that Isa is actively choosing to not go back to his summer self, where his life and relationship were in ruins. Therefore, this new “microclimate” has us believe that Isa has changed for the better, causing Bahar to visit his hotel room and spend a night with him. Despite this, Isa goes into yet another “microclimate” and he dismisses Bahar’s openness with the question of when she needs to be on set. In this moment, we can see Bahar’s face fall as she realizes he has not changed. With this realization, it almost references that summer, autumn, or winter will always come back, showing that the Isa from those times will also come back. Isa ultimately has not changed and the transition from winter into the next climate, shown by Isa traveling in the plane, illustrates how their relationship is finally over.
ReplyDeleteWith the different techniques Ceylan uses within his film, he creates a realistic experience for the viewers. Ceyaln gives the audience the feeling of watching a struggling couple in real life and trying to decipher what is happening “more from their behavior than from their dialogue” (Climates of Nihilism 91). While watching people in real life, we are not clued into their conversation, so we must make conclusions based on their facial expressions. Ceylan provides that same experience with silence and close ups, so that we may detect the slight nuances in their expression and “fill in the blanks ourselves” (Review of Climates 235).
Yes, good take on the role landscape plays.
DeleteAt the completion of this film I was left feeling that the concept of love and economic status was shallower in this film and deserved a more critical thinking element. I believe that this film shows that even when people are well of or have a job where there is a steady flow of income love is still untenable. Isa is not the richest man but he is well educated and is currently working towards elevating his education with finishing his thesis. Bahar is a hard workingwomen that has made her career her life after the breakup with Isa. Even though they both seem to have their life’s together to the standards that is placed upon them in today’s world, they are actually struggling to fill a certain aspect in their life and that is love. The dream sequence on the beach really stood out to me and I thought of it as an actual metaphor for the whole film. The dream begins a sleeping Bahar who seems to be enjoying herself very much and then she awoken by Isa and they kiss with Isa saying “I love you” she does not respond prompting one to think that even in this happy sequence that she still is not fully committed to Isa. Then Isa joyfully covers the body of Bahar leaving just her head exposed where he thing begins to fill and suffocate Bahar. The dream begins happy and steadily grows darker and unhappy just as there relationship in real life. As Isa smothers her in her dream betraying her trust, this pertains to the fact that in real life Isa gains the trust of Bahar and once she gives in by coming back to the hotel after saying no, he betrays her and leaves her once more. Also Isa sees whom I think he may have cheated on Bahar with women his colleague is seeing. Isa sees her and lies to bahar saying that he didn’t see her once again betraying her trust.
ReplyDelete“Then Isa joyfully covers the body of Bahar leaving just her head exposed where he thing begins to fill and suffocate Bahar. The dream begins happy and steadily grows darker and unhappy just as there relationship in real life. As Isa smothers her in her dream betraying her trust, this pertains to the fact that in real life Isa gains the trust of Bahar and once she gives in by coming back to the hotel after saying no, he betrays her and leaves her once more.”
DeleteGood reading
During roughly the middle portion of the film Climates, the character Isa, played by the film’s writer and director, Nuri Bilge Ceylan, in regard to a series of photographs, exhorts a group of his students to “pay attention to differences in architecture” while in class (2008). Isa’s words at first seem to have little more content than the passing entreaty of an instructor to his student body toward the end of a class he teaches; in the film, Ceylan portrays an associate professor who has a special interest in ancient architecture. The line could well easily be missed by a casual audience were it not made conspicuous by a rather appreciable lack of dialogue among the characters of Ceylan’s film.
ReplyDeleteWhile the words do indeed have little bearing on the immediate action of the film (coming before Isa leaves class and meets with a fellow faculty member with whom he makes plans to play a game of tennis), it does foreground thematic elements of what Jonathan Romney describes as a “complex, understated narrative” (235). Ceylan’s film follows the disintegration of a romantic relationship between the characters Isa and Bahar, a collapse which is marked at the film’s opening, and is portrayed by the director most notably through spatial relationships and facial expressions, as pointed out by Wood (62). It is no accident that we are introduced to Isa and Bahar as the former photographs a series of ruins and the latter becomes ever more distant, physically moving away from Isa; what Ceylan offers the viewer of his film is a study of an edifice in collapse, or, rather edifices in collapse.
Diken interprets this collapse as portraying two sides of nihilism manifest in the characters (87), while Wood calls for a feminist reading of the film (62). While either of these interpretations are viable, one could also offer a reading which critiques the condition of contemporary relationships, romantic and otherwise.
Boredom and counter-positions permeate the film; at its start, Isa asks Bahar if she is bored while he examines the ruins. Her negative answer, clearly a lie, mirrors Isa’s lies throughout the film—most notably the one which he tells to Bahar when she asks Isa whether or not he has seen Serap (a former lover of his) after he and Bahar have tentatively gone their separate ways. Ceylan also offers the audience a view of other social spaces in ruin. For example, according to Dilken, upon a chance meeting with Serap, Isa and an acquaintance of his, Guven, seem to “congratulate themselves on their non-commitment” to their very friendship (89) . Ceylan uses architectural collapse or abandonment as a trope for the contemporary failing of community and kinship. But this collapse is not simply collective—Bahar’s collapse is different from Isa’s—it is an individual experience, one which demands a degree of distance from one individual to the other.
“one could also offer a reading which critiques the condition of contemporary relationships, romantic and otherwise.”
DeleteYes—say more about this. Develop this insight.