Uzak, set in cold and wintry Istanbul in the early parts of the last decade, was lauded with numerous awards upon its international release. It wasn’t the director’s first acclaimed film, either, but the response to Uzak was quite a different story, and though it hasn’t exactly gained anything near mainstream appeal among film goers (like In the Mood for Love, Diving Bell and the Butterfly, or what have you), its success is assured, as is its status as a modern masterpiece. The first time I saw it, it left me embarassingly clueless. On second viewing, I think I have a better grasp of what it is. Of course, its basic story is a simple one. A youth named Yusuf, having lost his village job due to the recession, comes to Istanbul to find work, and live with his older cousin Mahmut, who has a seemingly secure job as a photographer. Not a whole lot happens in the film...we see Yusuf looking for a job, we watch Mahmut as he watches TV (which is most of what he does), or take care of his ailing mother at the hospital. At one point, Yusuf and Mahmut have a fight over a missing watch. Eventually, Yusuf leaves. The end.
Many of the film’s detractors; who have often compared the film unfavorably to Antonioni and Tarkovsky, have criticized it for being an overly simple and empty film. Such criticisms aren’t entirely unjustified, because Tarkovsky is even mentioned thrice; once by name, and twice when Mahmut watches Mirror and Stalker on his television. Furthermore, Uzak isn’t exactly audience friendly, and is perhaps even less ‘eventful’ than anything by either director. There’s no dialogue in the film for the first ten minutes, and very little human contact (direct or indirect)...the first words heard are that of Mahmut’s mother on the phone, an answering machine, with him listening to it dispassionately.
That said, its an unfair criticism, and very much untrue. In my opinion, its kind of annoying to have Tarkovsky or Antonioni thrown around every time someone makes a slow movie, and I can’t help but wonder if those critics even began to understand this film; much less the work of the directors they compare it to. Neither Tarkovsky or Antonioni (to my knowledge) used such a naturally drained color palette for their films; primary colors show up only sparingly, and its even rarer to see much besides snow and city; people standing out amid the harsh white environs, when the film ventures outside the apartment...though there are fleeting vistas to be seen at times. The film is also, despite its slow manner, neither poetic or metaphorical like those other guys, and lacks their rigor. Though events are depicted sparsely in the film, what the film does show speaks volumes about modern life; Mahmut’s in particular, and the bleak wintry scenery of Istanbul is a perfectly dreary backdrop. And the film’s title, which means “distant” in Turkish, obviously refers to the distance between individuals, and it’s the primary theme of this film.
Mahmut is consistently presented as an inert individual...complaining about the lack of good programming on television, yet constantly watching it, his exploits in Tarkovskyland often interrupted with boredom, and more often than not he’s watching pornography on that tube than art films. His relationships with people are just as unfulfilling as his relationships with television, and though he’s not a complete introvert, its easy to see why he is divorced to his wife, and he is rarely friendly to others around him. The film seems to revolve around the plight of his soul; his inertia, his faded humanity and failure as a man. For film goers especially, an observation of this man’s behavior is very revealing...watching him switch the channels vacuously from Stalker to pornography; while not something I’ve indulged in, its impossible to not think of our own movie watching habits. That Ceylan uses Tarkovsky; a director he is notably an admirer of, to show this is beyond admirable.
And the arrival of Yusuf; by far a more ‘alive’ individual, causes a rupture in his enclosed life. When Yusuf isn’t out and about looking for work (the film takes great pains to capture not only his search for work, but the interim, as he observes the world around him; ironically more aware of things than his photographer uncle), his presence disrupts the usual mechanical procedures that makes up Mahmut’s life. Mahmut is frustrated by him, of course, but I also think he’s shamed to jealousy by his presence; the presence of someone so much more alive than him. One of the pivotal moments in the movie is when he, having lost his silver watch, initially blames Yussef...but when he finds the watch, he keeps that a secret, as a sort of emotional blackmail. Numerous such private moments make up the bulk of this movie.
The film observes both men quietly, capturing a sense of their everyday lives and personalities, but the film has an incredible natural sense to it; something missing from the Antonioni or Tarkovsky, and at times it feels more akin to another great modern film maker, Abbas Kiarostami...though comparisons fail to capture what makes this film, in my opinion, a truly great work. Its realism; not just considering the way the film observes the passage of time but the way the actors perform; subtlety to the Nth degree all around. I was particularly taken by Muzaffer Özdemir, who plays Mahmut...he absolutely embodies the character, right down to his facial gestures. The result is a brilliantly ambiguous film; right up to its quiet and perfect ending, which places Mahmut’s fate in his own hands; much like the end of Gopalakrishnan’s The Rat Trap, though this film has taken an approach that requires even more of the viewer. I look forward to seeing more of Ceylan’s films; especially since almost all of them differ from this one.
94 / 100
A DVD of this film had been available in the states, courtesy of New Yorker Video. The company is defunct, however, and this film is out of print until further notice. I own the Artificial Eye DVD from the UK, and though its not exactly a perfect transfer, it looks pretty darn good. There are some nice extras on this little disc, as well...an English language interview with the director, the director’s first film (a short entitled Koza; a surreal film where both Tarkovsky’s influence and Ceylan’s occupation as a photographer are far more noticable), and some behind-the-scenes footage. I hope that somebody is able to produce a higher quality edition of the film in the states; preferably Blu-ray and preferably Criterion, but for now the Artificial Eye disc is more than a worthy purchase, and can be had quite cheaply. Do it.
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