Saturday, August 09, 2025

New Cinema of Turkey | Nowe Kino Turcji


Books: New Cinema of Turkey
Nowe Kino Turcji Ed. Jan Topolski [1]

  • Publisher ‏ : ‎ ha!art
  • Publication date ‏ : ‎ 1 Jan. 2010
  • Edition ‏ : ‎ 1st
  • Language ‏ : ‎ Polish
  • Print length ‏ : ‎ 256 pages
  • ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 8361407715
  • ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-8361407713
New Cinema of Turkey is an anthology of texts by Turkish, German, English and Polish film critics and experts illustrated with photos from films and directors’ photographs. Limited by themes and connected with works and artists presented at the 10th IFF Era New Horizons.
The book joins two perspectives, of Western authors who reveal Turkish cinematography to them and of Turkish authors who make an attempt to describe it anew. Articles touch upon social relationships (with particular attention to the figure of a woman, a child and a father/husband), transformations in religion and culture under the influence of industrialization and Westernization, the opposition of provinces and the metropolis, and the presence of history and politics. They show how new Turkish cinema interprets classic genres; they try to provide its stylistic specificity; they look for auteur poetics. The anthology discusses the work of such filmmakers as Nuri Bilge Ceylan, Zeki Demirkubuz, Derviş Zaim, Yeşim Ustaoğlu, Semih Kaplanoğlu, Reha Erdem, Umit Ünal and Kazim Öz.

TOP 20 Filmy tureckie by Agnieszka Czarkowska-Krupa[2]

1. Nabrzeże samotnych (Yalnizlar rihtimi, 1959) – reż. Lutfi Akad

2. Lato bez wody (Susuz yaz, 1964) – reż. Metin Erksan

3. Droga (Yol, 1982) – reż. Yilmaz Guney i Serif Goren

4. Sezon w Hakkari (Hakkari’de Bir Mevsim) 1983 – reż. Erdel Kiral

5. Majowe chmury (Mayis sikintisi, 1999) – reż. Nuri Bilge Ceylan

6. Vizontele (2001) – reż. Omer Faruk Sorak, Yilmaz Erdogan

7. Uzak (2002) – reż. Nuri Bilge Ceylan

8. Wyznanie (Itiraf, 2002) – reż. Zeki Demirkubuz

9. Puszka Pandory (Pandora’nin kutusu, 2008) – reż. Yeşim Ustaoğlu

11. Mleko (Süt, 2008) – reż. Semih Kaplanoglu

12. Lęk przed Bogiem (Takva, 2006) – reż. Ozer Kiziltan

13. Jak się kręci lody (Dondurmam Gaymak, 2006) – reż. Yuksel Aksu

16. Zimowy sen (Kis Uykusu, 2014) – Nuri Bilge Ceylan

17. Spłonie, kto najbliżej ognia stoi (Atesin düstügü yer, 2012) – Ismail Gunes

18. Otchłań: gdzieś pomiędzy (Araf, 2012) – Yeşim Ustaoğlu

19. Sen motyla (Kelebeğin Rüyası, 2013) – Yilmaz Erdogan

20. Mustang (2015) – Deniz Gamze Erguven


[1] Jan Topolski (1982) – musicologist, also studied philosophy at the University of Warsaw. As a music and film critic, he collaborates with media outlets such as "Kino," "Ruch Muzyczny," "Dwutygodnik," "Tygodnik Powszechny," Polish Radio's Second Program, "MusikTexte," and "neue musikzeitung." He was co-founder and, from 2004 to 2011, editor-in-chief of "Glissanda," the only Polish magazine devoted to contemporary music. Since 2010, he has been a consultant to Mariusz Treliński, artistic director of the Teatr Wielki – Polish National Opera, on contemporary opera and commissions from Polish composers. Author of the first Polish monograph on one of the most important composers of the 20th century, Gerard Grisey, entitled "Phantoms and Times. The Music of Gerard Grisey."

[2] Agnieszka Czarkowska-KrupaEditor-in-Chief and Publisher of the Oldcamera.pl website, PhD in Humanities from the Jagiellonian University, author of "Parabolicity in Polish Historical Prose 1956–1989" (Semper, 2014). Co-author and editor of "Faces and Masks. The Last Great Lovers of Cinema" (E-bookowo, 2021). A lover of cinema and literature, she has written for the collective books "The Subject in Polish Literature after 1989. Anthropological Aspects of Construction," edited by Żaneta Nalewajk (Elipsa, 2011) and "Ethics and Literature," edited by Anna Głąb (Semper, 2014). She has published prestigious articles for the Polish Academy of Sciences ("Ruch Literacki"), and articles in scholarly journals ("Tekstualia," "Zeszyty Naukowe KUL"), art periodicals ("FA-art"), and online portals. She worked as an academic lecturer at the Institute of Media and Journalism at the University of Theology and Humanities, where she also served as a supervisor and reviewer of graduate theses. In her private life, she is the mother of Sebastian and Olga.

Snow and the Bear

Snow and the Bear (2023) Runtime (min.) 93 min.

Directed and Written by: Selcen Ergun, co-writer Yesim Aslan
Music by: Erdem Helvacıoğlu 
Director of Photography: Florent Herry 
Cast: Merve Dizdar, Saygın Soysal, Asiye Dinçsoy, Erkan Bektaş, Derya Pınar Ak, Onur Gürçay, Muttalip Müjdeci 

Snow and the Bear was produced by Nefes Films and Albino Zebra Films in Turkey, and co-produced by Riva Film in Germany and Set Sail in Serbia. International sales are handled by ArtHood Entertainment.

Snow and the Bear  (Selcen Ergun) Toronto Film Festival
 

"Snow and the Bear" was shot in the Şavşat region of Artvin. Having its Turkish premiere at the 59th Antalya Golden Orange Film Festival and returning with Best First Film and Best Actress awards, "Snow and the Bear" won the New Directors Award at the 66th San Francisco International Film Festival, one of America's most established festivals.

Review

In a remote rural region during a seemingly never-ending winter in one of Turkey’s eastern provinces, a young and self-assured nurse from the capital named Aslı (Merve Dizdar) is appointed to an obligatory post. Roads to the outside are blocked and, as the mounting precipitation increasingly segregates the population from the outside, tales begin to spread about bears rousing from wintersleep and encroaching upon the town.

One long and dreary night, Hasan (Erkan Bektaş) — a local known for his drunkenness, infidelity, and troublemaking — suddenly disappears, further fuelling the town’s rumour mill. Some believe Hasan was eaten by a bear, while others point their fingers at Samet (Saygın Soysal), who’d recently butted heads with the missing party. Soon, a manhunt for the sin-bearing creature ensues and Aslı is buried in an avalanche of local politics and power dynamics. Confronted with the unknown, she must thaw and reach within herself to uncover whether she has what it takes to survive such conditions.

Snow and the Bear is the debut feature of writer-director Selcen Ergun, whose acute and wide-awake direction emphasizes the undertones of a rigid patriarchal society while brilliantly setting the atmosphere for this anti-fairy tale. Her clear vision unveils subtle subversion and presents an unlikely heroine in Dizdar, whose niveous gaze and temperate performance as Aslı inches beyond the snowscape. Shot through Florent Herry’s careful lens, paired with a subtle score by Erdem Helvacıoğlu, Snow and the Bear is a metaphor for living under increased scrutiny and insecurity, a mounting reality for women around the world where violence has become increasingly systematic and preserved.

DOROTA LECH



Snow and the Bear
  the first feature by Turkish director Selcen Ergun, presented in world premiere in the Discovery section at Toronto and now winner of the Cineuropa Award at the Brussels Mediterranean Film Festival, asks itself a question: of what could bears be guilty of? Asli (Merve Dizdar), a young city nurse, is sent for a compulsory service to a small isolated village, in the farthest reaches of Turkey, a place that seems asleep in an endless winter. A thick layer of snow covers the souls as well as the lands. But under the snow, unspeakable secrets hibernate, which plant doubt and suspicion in the villagers. While naming the culprit(s) could well bring down many supposedly honest citizens, the bears stand out as the perfect atoning culprits for all.

We quickly understand that Asli doesn’t have to be there; her father, who doesnt accept her decision, has offered and still offers to find her a job elsewhere, closer to the city, far from this mysterious community where dissent is rife. Arriving in the hamlet like a hair in the soup, she casts her sharp foreign eye on the habits of the villagers, steeped in patriarchal traditions. She will try to integrate herself amongst these silent families, doing her best to help them, offering her medical knowledge despite some reticence. But while the worrisome shadow of the bears that are said to have come out of hibernation very hungry during the abnormally long winter hangs over the village, the disappearance of one of the pillars of the community will exacerbate tensions and awaken resentments. But aren’t the villagers a little too quick to sell the skin of the bear and blame it for Hassan’s murder?

Snow and the Bear begins like a horror film – a young woman alone runs into a stranger after a car accident on a deserted and snowy road –, evokes fairy tales with its title and its mysterious forest, and asks for a more metaphorical and political reading with its catchphrase: “To all those who hope for the fall of this endless winter.” This endless winter is the one that suffocates the village, but also the one that falls like a leaden curtain on Turkish women, confined and oppressed, like Asli and her peers. This hushed drama, in which feelings are boiling up, contained but ready to explode at any moment, portrays the determination of a character caught in a whirlwind of internal struggles and power games, who will find her inner strength to overcome the obstacles.



TIFF REVIEW

Snow and the Bear premiered at the 2022 Toronto International Film Festival.

Asli (Merve Dizdar) didn’t have to come. It doesn’t matter that her compulsory assignment as a nurse was to be stationed in a small Turkish village in the middle of nowhere. Her father had strings to pull to get her reassigned. The reason she went anyway isn’t about not wanting to cheat the system like her parents think when they blame “stubbornness” as the cause of their fear for her safety due to blizzards and bear attacks. It’s because Asli doesn’t want to feel as though she needs protection. She doesn’t. She’s an adult woman who understands all too well the implicit patriarchal demand for compensation that comes with good deeds—that sense of feeling trapped, always owing. She’s tired of not being respected and having no control.

It’s that sense of always being on alert that drove director Selcen Ergun to make Snow and the Bear. During a post-screening Q&A she said this feeling sparked the process before her thoughts about humanity’s treatment of nature helped her and co-writer Yesim Aslan bolster the suspense for how that fear could be augmented by the overarching philosophy of mankind’s need to bend over backwards to blame someone (or something) else rather than own up to their own responsibility. It’s therefore only natural for Asli to be angry when the townsfolk disregard her medical advice while the doctor is stranded in snow a town over. And for her to panic in response to the unyielding aggressive entitlement and hospitality supplied to her upon arrival.

What happens as a result, while tragic, is therefore an accident. Ever since Asli came to town, the residents have warned her about going places alone. They assume she’ll get lost or that the relative of a bear killed earlier in the year by local butcher Hasan (Erkan Bektas) will attack. The only danger she actually finds, though, is them. They’re the ones skulking in the dark, popping up everywhere she turns. They’re the ones quick to dismiss her as an outsider who both doesn’t understand their strength against the elements and is too weak to match that constitution when she dares to act autonomously. So it’s impossible to know who to trust and even more impossible to bestow any benefit of the doubt. She’s in foreign territory.

Can she trust Hasan? The womanizer who “knows what’s best” when making his pregnant wife (Asiye Dinçsoy’s Cemile), who’s prescribed bedrest so as not to lose the baby or her own life, work the shop on her feet? How about Samet (Saygın Soysal)? The kind soul everyone treats like a simpleton who’s never far away when Asli needs assistance? Mahmut (Muttalip Müjdeci) proves the likeliest ally as de facto town elder with a finger on the pulse of everything that goes on inside the village. He attempts to even facilitate a truce between those other two after a tricky situation causes the neighborhood to mistrust each other. Samet turned Hasan in when he killed a bear because they’re protected by the government. And now the village is cursed.

When Hasan goes missing, the rumor mill accordingly swirls. Did he abandon his family again? Did Samet murder him after an escalation of their rift? Did the other bear whispers have been saying is coming near enact revenge for the murder of its kin? Every conclusion imaginable is put on the table; each one is feasible depending on who you ask. Shouldn’t “accident” be the top assumption, though? Shouldn’t everyone be innocent until proven guilty? In a perfect world, maybe. But anyone telling you we live in one is lying. The result is thus a tense escalation of danger with Asli caught in the middle. She’s theoretically an objective observer—except, of course, she’s also a woman. She cannot afford to pretend any of them is innocent.

What’s great about Ergun’s pressure cooker in sub-zero temperatures is that she shouldn’t be able to pretend she’s innocent either. Snow and the Bear is structured in such a way that even Asli could be the reason Hasan disappeared. Just as she can’t trust those around her to not be the cause, however, she can’t trust them not to turn on her if she was. Because who’s she to them? Nobody. They already don’t want to listen to her diagnoses, why would they listen to her when she says there was no intent to injure in her actions? Suddenly all the people who saw each other out that night are as much each other’s alibi as each other’s executioner. It’s why blaming the bear solves all their worries.

It’s what we do. Pass the buck. We lord our superiority over nature in one breath and deny we have the power to change it in the next. Men do the same to women, seeking to dominate and steal their power before blaming them for daring to think they could possess it in the first place. We create enemies in order to absolve ourselves of guilt, knowing full well that we’re the ones who manufactured the conditions that force them to fight back. Survival perpetually becomes paramount to truth. Even more so when you’re isolated in the dark with nowhere else to turn. That’s where Asli exists (uncertain what man will accost her in the street). Same with Samet (the town pariah blamed for everything) and the bear.

Ergun presents it with the harsh sound of wind whipping through apparently serene landscapes that hide the potential for violence we all know exists regardless of evidence. And those with the most to lose prove to be those with the answers the others seek. Do they speak or stay silent? Put yourself in their shoes and register your impulse. Pay attention to the details of the circumstances, too—some of these characters confront an almost identical situation twice with opposite responses. The reasons are valid too since we live in nuance. Dizdar and Soysal brilliantly deliver what that means via complex performances breathing life into morally imperfect people reconciling the prejudices held against them with the difference between wrong and right. Nothing is ever black-and-white.




The German-Turkish Co-production Development Fund


Applications are now open for the "Germany-Turkey Co-Production Development Fund," 

Turkish Cinema never widely captured film market unless a well-connected European distributer has the rights or proven auteur Nuri Bilge Ceylan makes his next film.

Turkish films are rarely present in ‘Main Competition Selection’ of major film festivals save second-tier competition programs for first films or up and coming talent mainly catering to Art House audiences usually produced with multi country co-productions.

Opportunities are limited for making films that appeal to festival programmers. The support provided by the Ministry of Culture to the cinema industry nearly doubled in 2024, only reaching 2.4 million US dollars divided between 22 projects in feature, co-production and post-production. It is a small amount at par with Nasreddin Hodja adding yeast into a lake hoping to make yogurt. However, there are other small and successful funds with a proven record.

Application Deadline Announced

Applications are now open for The Germany-Turkey Co-Production Development Fund, established in 2011 by the Istanbul Foundation for Culture and Arts (İKSV), with the support of Anadolu Efes, as part of the Istanbul Film Festival, in collaboration with Medienboard Berlin-Brandenburg and the Hamburg Schleswig-Holstein Film Fund, will be held for the 15th time this year. The fund, launched to support feature-length co-production projects between Germany and Turkey, is open to all feature-length German Turkish co-productions that have not yet begun filming. 

The fund aims to support feature-length co-productions and cultural exchange between the two countries. This fund is still a valuable resource for encouraging new voices and expanding the boundaries of international co-productions. The fund is small and has provided only a total of €1,096,000 in support until this year in total to bring original cinematic stories to the screen.

The rules and regulations of the "Germany-Turkey Co-Production Development Fund and Application form are available for the 2025 cycle. And questions can be sent to: onthebridge@iksv.org 

A Fund with Results

No matter how small, the fund’s financial support for of the 67 films gained a place and recognition by premiering at festivals such as:

Kız Kardeşler (Sisters) (Emin Alper) Berlinale Main Competition. 
The Album (Mehmetcan Mertoğlu) Cannes Film Festival Critics' Week. 
Ansızın (Aslı Özge) Berlinale Panorama. 
Until My Breath Stops (Emine Emel Balcı) Berlinale the Forum. 
The Blue Bicycle (Ümit Köreken) Berlinale Generation
Sesime Gel (Hüseyin Karabey) Berlinale Generation. 
My Father's Wings (Kivanç Sezer) Karlovy Vary Film Festival Main Competition. 
Kardeşler (Ömür Atay) Karlovy Vary Film Festival Main Competition. 
Bir Nefes Daha (Nisan Dağ) Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival. 
Zuhal (Nazlı Elif Durlu) Antalya Golden Orange Film Festival. 
Les Enfants Teribles (Ahmet Necdet Cupur) Visions du Reel. 
Ela and Hilmi and Ali (Ziya Demirel) the Istanbul Film Festival winning four awards, 
Snow and the Bear  (Selcen Ergun) Toronto Film Festival
Yurt (Nehir Tuna) Venice Film Festival.



Wednesday, August 06, 2025

Metin Erksan neden öldürüldü? [Turkish Article]

A name who argued that one cannot be universal without being national, who responded to those who said, “Cinema is a festival,” that “Cinema is a culture,” who maintained his independence despite everything as a dissenting intellectual, who could also be a director who provoked discussion and debate with his writings on cinema, was made to pay the price for not cooperating, for standing in a contradictory position with his thought and cinema, for declaring certain film circles the “Istanbul Culture Mafia” in a country where creativity is taken over by the concept of rationality, and thus was rendered unable to make films in Yeşilçam before reaching the age of fifty.

The speech he delivered in 2004 upon receiving the Ministry of Culture and Tourism's Grand Prize for Culture and Arts from the President reflected the sorrow of a combative, ill-tempered director, an intellectual, a lonely man whose cinema had not been understood and had not found the recognition it deserved: "Throughout my life, I have never been a member of any organization or association other than the Cinema Workers' Union and the Cinema Directors' Association, which I founded. I have never been a supporter, advocate, or defender of any ideology or ism. Even though I have never encountered a positive attitude from any government, I have never been resentful of my state or my nation."

SUSUZ YAZ IZLE


Metin Erksan neden öldürüldü?

(...)1947’den bu yana gazetelerde ve dergilerde sinema makaleleri yazan, üniversite öğrencisi olduğu 1950’de Yusuf Ziya Ortaç’ın “Binnaz” adlı eserini senaryolaştırarak sinemaya adım atan, “Kamera” müstear adıyla Dünya gazetesinde film eleştirileri yazdığı 1952’de, ilk filmi “Aşık Veysel’in Hayatı-Karanlık Dünya”yı çeken, Bedri Rahmi Eyüboğlu’nun yazdığı senaryonun çekiminde, tamamı TKP’li olan bir oyuncu kadrosu oluşturan, ilk filmiyle sansürün gazabına uğrayan ‘bir isim’di.

Peyami Safa’nın “Server Bedii” takma adıyla yazdığı “Beyaz Cehennem”i, Halide Edip Adıvar’ın “Yol Palas Cinayeti”ni sinemaya uyarlayan, ömrü boyunca Türk Edebiyatı’nın önemli metinlerini senaryolaştırma çalışmalarından vazgeçmeyen de O’ydu…
’50′li yıllarda birçok sinemacı ve entelektüelin burun kıvırdığı Osmanlı’yı bir sosyolog titizliğiyle incelediği “Dokuz Dağın Efesi”ni Türk Sineması’na armağan eden; setlerde sigara paketlerine senaryo yazılan yıllarda akademisyen titizliğiyle, uzun araştırmalar sonucu yazdığı metinlere hayat veren, neredeyse çektiği tüm filmlerin senaryosunu kendisi yazan da ‘bir isim’di.
Türk Sinema Sanatçıları Derneği’nin kurulmasına öncülük eden, Türkiye Sinema İşçileri Sendikası’nı ve Film Rejisörleri Derneği’ni kuran, kurulma aşamasında destekleyip arşivinin oluşturulmasına katkıda bulunduğu İDGSA Sinema-TV Enstitüsü’nde -Türkiye’de ilk sinema eğitimini bu kurum verdi- “Sinema Kuramı” dersleri veren de O’ydu…
Şoför Nebahat, Mahalle Arkadaşları, Hicran Yarası, Çifte Kumrular, Sahte Nikah, Ateşli Çingene, Feride, Hicran, Makber, Keloğlan ve Can Kız, İstanbul Kaldırımları, Süreyya, Dağdan İnme gibi ticari filmler bir yana; William Peter Blatty’nin yazıldığı dönemde bestseller olan romanından uyarlayıp teknik imkansızlıklar içinde çektiği gerçek anlamda ilk Türk korku filmi “Şeytan” bir yana; gösterime girdiği yıllarda anlaşılamayıp yıllar sonra “başyapıt” olduğuna hükmedilen “Kuyu” bir yana; imza atma cesareti gösterdiği Türk Sineması’nın en ilginç deneysel filmi Kadın Hamlet bir yana; sinema tarihimizin ilk toplumsal gerçekçi filmi “Gecelerin Ötesi”ni, sansür karşısında verdiği mücadeleden zaferle çıkarak “Yılanların Öcü”nü izleyicisiyle buluşturan; “Acı Hayat” filmi sonraki yıllarda başka yönetmenlerce de tekrar tekrar çekilen, “Suçlular Aramızda” ile seyircisine beylik sinema kalıplarının, klişeleşmiş metaforların ötesinde bir dünya sunan ‘bir isim’di.

Dünyaya Türk Sineması’nın varolduğunu duyuran “Susuz Yaz"da, adı hiç duyulmamış oyuncularla çalışıp star sistemini yerle bir eden, sinemamıza ilk uluslararası ödülü kazandıran, 1965 seçimlerinde TİP listesinden İstanbul Bağımsız Milletvekili adayı olan; kısacası Türkiye’nin temel siyasal düşünce doğrultusu ile hiçbir zaman uyumlu olmayan da O’ydu.
Oyunun ilk perdesinde olan ise şuydu: Daha 1 yıl önce, 35 yaşında ülkesine ilk uluslararası ödülü kazandıran rejisör, başladığı filmi bitirebilmek için ev eşyalarına varıncaya dek satmış, nihayet filmi tamamladığında gösterecek sinema salonu bulamamıştı. Birkaç özel gösterimde kısıtlı bir izleyiciye sunulabilen “Sevmek Zamanı”na, Türk sinema çevrelerinde “psikiyatrik bir vaka” diyenler de olmuştu, “başyapıt” diyenler de… (Fransız sinema tarihçisi Sadoul, sinemada sert bir sınıf çatışmasının en net göründüğü metin olarak Sevmek Zamanı’nı göstermişti.) Filmi değerlendirme konusunda fikir ayrılığına düşenler, “Bu film toplumsal sorunları çözme, Türk Sineması’na yeni bir şeyler getirme gibi savlardan uzak, sadece insanın dramını anlatmaktadır” diyen, “Yalnız kendim için film çekerim” sözleriyle meydan okuyan yönetmeni kınama konusunda hemfikirdiler. Ne de olsa toplumcu fikirler modaydı, varsın o yönetmen sinemada siyasetin esamesi okunmazken, TKP’li oyuncularla çektiği filmi sansüre ve yapımcıların insafına kurban versin; varsın ilk toplumcu-gerçekçi Türk filmini yapsın, varsın dünyanın en saygın-en önemli sinema ödülünü alsın… “Kendi için film çekmek”, sonradan sinemacıların diline pelesenk olurken; siyasette de, sanatta da toplumunun önünden gitmenin talihsizliğini yaşayan ‘bir isim’di.



Milli olunmadan evrensel olunamayacağını savunan, “Sinema bir şenliktir” diyenlere, “Sinema bir kültürdür” cevabını veren, muhalif bir aydın olarak her şeye rağmen bağımsızlığını koruyan, sinema üzerine yazılarıyla da tartışan- tartıştıran bir yönetmen olabilen ‘bir isim’e; yaratıcılığın rasyonellik kavramıyla teslim alındığı bir ülkede, işbirliği yapmamanın, düşünce ve sinemasıyla aykırı bir yerde durmanın, bazı sinema çevrelerini “İstanbul Kültür Mafyası” ilan etmenin bedeli böyle ödetilmiş, ellisine varmadan Yeşilçam’da film yapamaz hale getirilmişti.
Sinema filmi çekemediği yıllarda; Sait Faik Abasıyanık, Kenan Hulusi, Samet Ağaoğlu, Sabahattin Ali ve Ahmet Hamdi Tanpınar’ın birer hikayesini TRT için filme aldığında; çok sevdiği tutku, saplantı temaları üzerinde yoğunlaşan ve ağır temposu seyirci tarafından anlaşılamayan bu filmler, tartışmalara yol açmıştı. Ve tartışmalar, ‘bir isim’in, “Kemal Tahir’den sonra Türk Edebiyatı ancak kese kağıdı olur” sözüne karşılık, TYS Genel Başkanı Aziz Nesin’in, “ …’in düşünme ve yaratma özgürlüğü elinden alınmalıdır” açıklamasıyla son bulmuş, perde işte böyle kapanmıştı. Gelin görün ki, ‘bir isim’, sinema yap(a)madığı zamanlarda da, sinema üzerine, Türkiye üzerine düşünmeye devam etti. “Atatürk Filmi”, “Avrupa Topluluğu”, “Türk-Yunan İlişkileri” kitaplarını yazdı. Tartışılan bir aydın ve yönetmen olmayı sürdürdü.
2004’te Kültür ve Turizm Bakanlığı’nın Kültür ve Sanat Büyük Ödülü’nü Cumhurbaşkanı’nın elinden alırken yaptığı konuşma, sineması anlaşılamamış ve hak ettiği yeri bulamamış kavgacı, hırçın bir yönetmenin, entelektüel bir aydının, yalnız bir adamın hüznünü yansıtıyordu: “Hayatım boyunca kendi kurduğum Sinema İşçileri Sendikası ve Sinema Yönetmenleri Derneği dışında hiçbir örgüte, derneğe üye olmadım. Hiçbir ideoloji, hiçbir izm yanlısı, yandaşı, savunucusu da olmadım. Hiçbir hükümet tarafından olumlu bir tutumla karşılaşmamış olsam dahi, devletime ve milletime küsmedim.”
Varsın ticari filmlerinden gayrısına tv kanallarımız burun kıvırsın, varsın bazı filmleri arşivlerde dahi bulun(a)masın, varsın tezgahlarda filmlerinin DVD’leri- VCD’leri satılmasın; ‘bir isim’ dimdik ayakta, karşımızda duruyor, yaşıyor. Türk Sineması varoldukça da yaşamaya devam edecek… Bugün O’nu yok sayma gücüne sahip olanlar da dahil, hiçbirimiz, O’nun adını tarihten silmek kudretine sahip değiliz.
Her dakika calib-i hayret menazır arzeder
Bir temaşa hane-i ibretnümadır perdemiz
Kaynak: Reyhan Yıldız, tiyatro.net, 2007

Ismail Metin Karamanbey
Awards
  
Golden Boll Award for Best Director (1969),Golden Orange Honorary Award (1987)
Movies
  
Dry Summer, Time to Love, Seytan, The Angel of Vengean, Dokuz Dagin Efesi

Thursday, July 17, 2025

One of the Days Hemme Died | The 98th Academy Awards Nominee

 






The 98th Academy Awards Nominee

Under the direction of Directorate General of Cinema, the 15-person Selection Committee of representatives from various filmmaking organizations, determined the Turkish nominee for the Best International Film category at the 98th Academy Awards which will be held in Los Angeles on March 15, 2026.

Each country selects and nominates one film for the Academy Award. The two-stage vote of shortlisted 15 films will narrow to five films. No Turkish film has yet made it to the final five in this category and competed at the Academy Awards.

After evaluating 14 films sent to the Union of Cinema Professional Associations for considerations, Murat Fıratoğlu’s [1]"One of the Days Hemme Died/ Hemme’nin Öldüğü Günlerden Biri " [2] was selected by a majority vote as Türkiye's Best International Film nominee.

First stop Venice Film Festival

Murat Fıratoğlu’s film, "One of Those Days When Hemme Dies," received the Special Jury Prize in the Orizzonti section which focuses on innovative films, recognized his debut feature film for its unique storytelling at the 81st of the Venice International Film Festival.

Paris based Sales agency Luxbox[3] has acquired “One of Those Days When Hemme Dies!” which has its world premiere in the Horizons section of the Venice Film Festival.

Türkiye was well-represented at the festival with two more films. Turker Suer’s “Edge of the Night” is also shown in the “Orizzonti Extra” section, and Cansu Baydar’s “Almost Certainly Wrong” is included in the “Orizzonti Short Films” category.

Murat Fıratoğlu’s film after its world premiere, was selected as the "Best Film" at the 31st International Adana Golden Boll Film Festival, one of the most prestigious film festivals in Türkiye, which has been running for 30 years where Nuri Bilge Ceylan chaired the jury, and later at the Ankara Film Festival.

After his win at the Adana Golden Boll Film Festival/ Altın Koza Film Festival, Fıratoğlu stated that the idea for the film began when he saw a lone tree in Siverek, and that the limited budget spurred creative inspiration. The familiarity of the locations used in the film and the fact that he spoke the same language as the actors also helped the production process.

Fıratoğlu plotted his screenplay as a powerful outlet for social criticism, using the harsh conditions of the countryside and using local nonprofessional characters, mostly his family members and few professional actors.

When Hemme Dies!

The film tells the story of Eyüp returning to his hometown of Siverek in southeastern Türkiye after financial troubles in the West coast town of Izmir. People dance at a wedding is the first image. The scene changes to him working under the blazing sun during harvest to dry tomatoes under the pressure of an impending debt and unable to earn his daily wages. He argues with his foreman, Hemme. Furious and desperate, Eyüp leaves the field on his red motorcycle, in search of a possibly radical solution to exact revenge.

The Producer Director Murat Fıratoğlu acting as the lead actor as Eyüp uses a simple narrative while he devises a plan for revenge. His villagers continuously divert him with trivial tasks throughout the day, which ends with Eyüp dancing side by side with Hemme at a wedding.

This is a film which forces us to observe the small everyday actions of life, the small but significant acts of rebellion with no intention of laying down arms while engaging the audience to live at Eyüp’s introspection, pace and, pauses, his moments of anxiety and existential doubts with visual pauses sometimes as long as eight minutes where seemingly nothing happens. We feel the urgency in his active mind seeking a solution with subtle visual cues matching red tomatoes to his red motorcycle that constantly stops working. Visual stability makes the viewer feel the suffering under the heat of the yellow sun, empty dust roads, and dry fields becoming characters unto themselves.

The film moves forward without the use of flashbacks except the beginning and ending circle of scenes, with a reluctance for quick editing cuts builds up a slow suspense that deserves to be recognized an important debut and patiently enjoyed making us wait for Murat Fıratoğlu’s follow up with high expectations.

 

Trailer of the movie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSgYQxjydP8


[1] Murat Fıratoğlu

Murat Firatoğlu

Murat Firatoğlu was born on September 7,1983 in Siverek. He studied law at Dicle University. He lives in Istanbul and works as a lawyer. He has been active in the film industry by attending film-making workshops between 2004 and 2017, including programs organized by Diyarbakır Art Center and film director Reha Erdem. His films have been featured in multiple festivals, including the Antalya Film Forum and the Sabancı Foundation Film Competition.


Filmography

One of Those Days When Hemme Dies – 2024 WATCH

The Photo of Kholoud Ahmed – 2016 – Short film

Albatros Dreams – 2008 – Short film

The Edge of All Possibilities – 2008 – Short film

Straw Dust – 2007 – Short documentary






[2] Credits

One of the Days Hemme Died/ Hemme’nin Öldüğü Günlerden Biri

2024

Türkiye, France, Bosnia and Herzegovina, United Kingdom

Running time: 82 min / Ratio: 1.85  in Color / Sound: 5.1 /

Directed, Written and Produced by:  Murat Fıratoğlu

Cinematography by:  Semih Yildiz, Nedim Dedecan, Abdurrahman Öncü

Edited by: Eyüp Zana Ekinci

Language: Turkish

Cast: Salih Taşçı, Murat Fıratoğlu, Sefer Fıratoğlu, Güneş Sayın, Ali Barkın, Çetin Fıratoğlu.

Festivals & Awards

2024

Venice International Film Festival – Orizzonti Competition – Special Orizzonti Jury Prize

International Adana Golden Boll Film Festival – Nature Feature Film Competition – SIYAD Best Film Award

Mostra Internacional de Cinema de São Paulo

Eurasia International Film Festival – Central Asia and Turkic World Competition – Special Jury Award

Stockholm International Film Festival – Discovery Section

Marrakech International Film Festival – Competition

Singapore International Film Festival – Panorama Section

Hainan Island International Film Festival – Panorama

[3] International Sales by: Luxbox, a Paris-based company, dedicated to international sales of selected projects. Based on a solid film catalogue and an enthusiastic pool of world cinema directors. https://luxboxfilms.com/

6 Rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 75011 Paris, France

Théophane Bérenger, Festivals Manager & Marketing

T: +33 6 58 82 25 20 / E: theophane@luxboxfilms.com


REVIEWS

Composed of long, meditative sequence shots, One of Those Days When Hemme Dies - the debut feature film by Turkish director and lawyer Murat Fıratoğlu, winner of the Special Jury Prize in the Venice Film Festival’s Orizzonti section - takes us inside the private world of a character wrestling with the injustices of a world where worth depends on earnings. Of a seeming and disarming simplicity, One of Those Days When Hemme Dies is a film which forces the audience to stop and observe the small everyday actions of life, the small but significant acts of rebellion carried out by souls who have no intention of laying down arms.

Eyüp, the film’s protagonist (played by the director himself), slaves away beneath the relentless sun harvesting tomatoes in south-eastern Turkey. He subjects himself to this inhumane regime because he desperately needs to pay a debt which might otherwise land him in prison. Following a clash with his supervisor, Eyüp roams the city devising a radical plan which might return a little stability and dignity to his life.

One of Those Days When Hemme Dies doesn’t focus on urban life or modern society; instead, the director looks to explore the human, existential problems which torment his protagonists. Composed of poetic, introspective sequence shots which can sometimes last as long as eight minutes, Fıratoğlu’s first feature film encourages the audience to live at Eyüp’s pace, sharing his pauses, his moments of introspection, but also his anxiety and existential doubts. During these pauses, viewers can reflect on their own lives, on the small and seemingly insignificant ups and downs of day-to-day life. In this sense, Eyüp guides us towards a world where taking a break becomes essential, a gentler world which allows us to slow down and observe the beauty around us. Sustaining this state of poetic apathy are the silences - the undisputed protagonists of this film which conveys more with images than with words. The director seems to be looking to capture the pace of life itself, the inevitable moments of stasis where nothing happens, where the body appears immobile but the mind is furiously active.

Just like the silences, the landscapes - places where human beings don’t dare venture - becomes characters unto themselves. The images of fields covered in dazzling white tarpaulins and bursting with red tomatoes, all surrounded by seductively barren, yellow mountains and by a sky too blue to be real, are stupendous in this sense. But, when the workers arrive, this Eden-like land turns into hostile ground where abuse becomes common currency. The working conditions are terrible, without any form of social security, as if this paradise had suddenly morphed into hell. Even though One of Those Days When Hemme Dies focuses on the rural workers’ struggles, on the right to having basic needs met and to having a dignified job that’s respectful of the individual, the director also dares to tackle the topics of toxic masculinity, violence and pride. The film is, in fact, dominated by men, and by characters who sink to grotesque measures to impose and preserve their dominion. Eyüp seems to want to escape this vicious circle to seek out a balance and “respect” which aren’t based on the law of the jungle but on tolerance and solidarity. One of Those Days When Hemme Dies is an aesthetically powerful first film which turns simplicity into a battleground.

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 One of Those Days When Hemme Dies sold worldwide by Luxbox.

Review: One of Those Days When Hemme Dies - Cineuropa

In what can most appropriately be described as a collision between Samuel Beckett and Abbas Kiarostami, we find Murat Fıratoğlu standing at the helm of one of the most ambitious debut directorial efforts of the year, One of Those Days When Hemme Dies, a tragicomic account of a conflicted laborer in modern-day Turkey who forms a vitriolic vendetta against the foreman that has taken advantage of him, and decides to plot revenge, which stirs many polarized opinions from those around the periphery of the situation. A simple but very effective drama that carries immense weight in terms of both its thematic content and socio-cultural underpinnings, the film is a fascinating character study in which the director takes an intriguing premise and allows it to flourish into a bold and daring examination of the human condition, albeit one that begins to veer away from convention the further it dives into the layers of subtext found throughout the story. Considering this is his first directorial outing, there are several impressive details in terms of both the narrative and its execution that signal Fıratoğlu’s potential to be an exciting voice in contemporary cinema, and the intrepid style of storytelling aids in overcoming some of the slight flaws that are embedded in the film as part of the director’s development of his artistic voice. The perfect blend of peculiar and melancholic, One of Those Days When Hemme Dies is a deeply unnerving examination of revenge and the toll it can take on those unprepared for the consequences.

There are many fascinating narrative and thematic strands that make up One of Those Days When Hemme Dies, a film that is much deeper than we would expect based on a glance at the premise. On the surface, this is a film about death, which is presented in the vengeful actions of the protagonist against the man who has chosen to abuse his power, and now has to face the consequences. Fıratoğlu crafts something that sits at the intersection between a classical fable that carries an important moral, and a slightly theatrical revenge tale, which are essentially two sides of the same thematic coin, particularly in how they both intend to explore fate and consequences. Interwoven into the central narrative are conversations around culture, particularly life in contemporary Turkey for the working class. Taking place almost entirely in the countryside with a few brief sojourns into the local small town, the film uses its limited scope as a way of exploring the daily routine of these characters, quickly homing in on one particular character as he launches a one-person crusade against a notoriously difficult superior. This unearths some fascinating discourse around class structure, social stratification and the plight of the blue-collar workers who are viewed as expendable labor, but possess both a disdain towards authority and a desire to seize control by any means necessary. Fıratoğlu combines these ideas together in creative and engaging ways, and finds unique components in an otherwise quite straightforward premise.

Based on the simplicity of the narrative, One of Those Days When Hemme Dies could have ventured in many different directions in terms of tone and overall execution. Mercifully, the director chooses to avoid overt sentimentality or an abundance of heavy-handed social commentary, instead crafting the film as a more slow-paced, ruminative piece that develops into a meditative existential odyssey, following the protagonist as he goes through the motions of plotting revenge. The film is told in a bare-bones, mostly unfurnished style, where the camera places the viewer at a distance from these characters, creating the sense that we are peering into their lives rather than actively participating in the journey alongside the protagonist, which situates the audience as voyeurs into their day-to-day routine and its gradual dismantling during the day when the film takes place. For some, this approach is cold and clinical, and can lack the substance to honor the complex components of the narrative, but the director clearly possesses the self-assurance to use this intentional distance as a powerful narrative tool. The approach also massively benefits from the cast, with Fıratoğlu (who also stars in the film) in particular being a fascinating protagonist, playing the part of this man caught between abiding by the law and falling victim to the continuous cycle of abuse and exploitation faced by the working class, or making a bold decision that may stir extreme consequences for him, but improve conditions for those that come after him. It’s often quite brutal and sharply defined, but this only further amplifies the underlying message. The more measured pace and slightly ambiguous conclusion should not be cause for misunderstanding or misinterpretation – One of Those Days When Hemme Dies is a radical work, albeit one that reveals itself in a steady, gradual manner, choosing to approach its themes as a slow burn rather than an explosion. There are many layers to this film, and it takes time to fully understand each one of them. Fıratoğlu weaves a complex depiction of the human condition, which he views as something simultaneously beautiful and savage, and impossible to condense into a single coherent stream of ideas. He takes a concept that could have potentially been overwrought under the wrong approach, and pieces together a harsh but captivating story of revenge and the consequences that exist on both sides of a violent act. The answers to the lingering questions are not always clear, and it can sometimes come across as somewhat frustrating to see how the film meanders at certain points – but by the time we reach the striking conclusion, everything has fallen into place. A strong debut in terms of both narrative and style, One of Those Days When Hemme Dies proves to be an extremely effective blend of social issues and existential ponderings, and firmly establishes Fıratoğlu as an essential new voice in contemporary cinema.

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Venice 2024 review: One of Those Days When Hemme Dies (Murat Fıratoğlu)

People dance at a wedding in the first image of One of Those Days When Hemme Dies by Turkish director Murat Fıratoğlu, presented in the Orizzonti section of Venice 81. A cut takes us away from this fixed, lingering shot to a field covered in an immense white sheet, stained red. There are a myriad of tomatoes, being dried with salt and sun. One of them, Eyüp, is impatient; he hasn't been paid for too long. An argument breaks out, his boss candidly calls him a "son of a bitch." Eyüp can't see anymore. The motorcycle he wants to take home to get a gun, however, jams. He is forced to push it. Arriving in a residential area, two acquaintances of his are sitting at a table and greet him. They invite him to stop and have tea with them. But he's in a hurry. He sets off again, but the motorcycle jams again.

Like the motorcycle, the thriller that One of Those Days When Hemme Dies might seem like from its opening minutes also stalls. And that's a great thing. Because Fıratoğlu's debut and the story of his protagonist (played by himself due to a lack of actors) opens up to a myriad of other films. Starting with the cinema of Elia Suleiman, a clear reference for the entire central section, composed of small, often fixed scenes, where small stories pierce the main narrative line. The motorcycle stalls completely; Eyüp leaves it near a tree to continue on foot. He encounters a fast-talking winemaker who pins him to a table. An elderly uncle walks him home, carrying the watermelon he bought. “Before you leave, cut it up. Eat a piece. You can't leave without eating.” While Eyüp eats a piece of watermelon, his uncle falls asleep.

Glimpses of futile everyday life shatter any pretense in One of Those Days When Hemme Dies, all scrutiny is futile. This simplicity, if looked at at a glance, will remain completely silent, impassive. Eyüp is sitting on a bench, the impasse seems now certified. He stares into space. A man kicks a can abandoned on the ground in front of him. After a couple of steps, he picks it up and puts it back where he found it. A few seconds later, a boy with a plastic gun shoots Eyüp fleetingly (if there's a gun in the story, it must shoot, as Chekhov said), then a little girl interrupts the can's rest by kicking it off-screen. If we accept Murat Fıratoğlu's kind invitation, if we take the time to savor a piece of watermelon or kick a can and resist the incessant rhythm of passing time, something luminous unfolds before our eyes. Paths to poetry, spirituality, peace open up. But only if we surrender to the dance of life, futile, banal, and yet extraordinary.

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One of Those Days When Hemme Dies, la recensione

The film begins with scenes of workers drying tomatoes in the Siverek district of Şanlıurfa. We observe the tomato-drying process in detail, gaining a fair understanding of the process. Because tomato-drying is seasonal, we witness the moments that begin with a quarrel between seasonal worker Eyüp (Murat Fıratoğlu) and his superior, Hemme, but then escalate into a physical altercation, giving the film its theme. The film follows a series of routines that unfold: long walks, casual conversations, and pleasant encounters. We meet all these people through Eyüp's crossing paths. This connection between them actually begins when Eyüp encounters Hemme, the gun he's strapped to his waist, on his way to kill her.

The entire film is built upon Eyüp's encounters with people he knows and the dialogues he engages in. The film's greatest success lies in its authenticity. The story is real, the characters are real, the locations are real, and the costumes are real. The characters are not caricatured; on the contrary, they are ordinary people we often encounter in society. It's safe to say that this genuine story and character development can only be achieved through keen observation.

The director's near-complete mastery of the film's direction and his complete conviction in his work are among the factors that solidify the film's success. For 83 minutes, "One of the Days Hemme Died" doesn't even give the audience a chance to blink. Even in the dialogue-free scenes, boredom is unavoidable; we watch each scene unfold with the knowledge that we'll witness a genuine human routine.

We meet Eyüp on his journey to kill Hemme. We watch him carry an elderly man he doesn't know, stranded in the heat because he can't carry a watermelon, to his home with a slow rhythm. As he travels with the watermelon on his shoulder and the elderly man in his arm, we are convinced that Eyüp is a good person and incapable of killing someone. The dialogue between him and the woman, a childhood friend who comes to the stationery store while we realize she's actually his childhood crush, is heartbreaking. The fact that a simple conversation can touch the heart so deeply inspires us to praise the script's subtleties. In the scene where Eyüp sits on the bench, we can only imagine his thoughts after a day spent like a soda can being tossed around.

The Dynamics of the Film

We see in many scenes that the director references and is influenced by numerous directors. Is this a bad thing? Of course not. Cinema is, above all, a matter of passion. It's impossible to make good films without loving it. Loving cinema, however, begins with the directors of films we admire. Therefore, it's not wrong to create a film without copying it, but simply by emulating and envying it. It's a normal occurrence, especially for someone so early in their career.

The film's dramatic structure is built on solid bricks. The narrative isn't overly complex, the language is simple, and the story is enriched by simple building blocks. The combination of its simple dialogue and familiar human figures makes it feel like another provincial story that has entered our cinematic landscape. However, it may not be for everyone. This film won't please those who dislike long scenes without dialogue, those who can't watch independent cinema, and those who say rural stories aren't for them. But you never know.

The film's title could be considered one of its most interesting factors. It gives the film an identity. Above all, it piques curiosity. It makes one wonder whether the film's title is metaphorical or a reference to reality. It appeals to audiences in many ways and received rave reviews from festival audiences.

The ability to make routines that wouldn't interest anyone follow a flow without blinking an eye… That flow never gets boring… This is the impact One of the Days Hemme Died has on the audience.

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Director/Screenplay: Murat Fıratoğlu

Cast: Salih Taşçıoğlu, Murat Fıratoğlu, Sefer Fıratoğlu, Güneş Sayın, Ali Barkın, Fırat Bozan, Çetin Fıratoğlu

Türkiye / Drama / 83 min.

We learn that Eyüp (Murat Fıratoğlu), the man on whom the story revolves, is from Izmir, unlike the other workers. This is undoubtedly one of the reasons why he's a bit more vocal than the others and demands his rights against the injustices he's faced. We see that Hemme (Salih Taşçı), their leader and employer, hasn't paid their daily wages for a long time and wants to make them work harder than usual. This is precisely where things get out of hand. Just as Eyüp is about to argue with Hemme, the people there stop him. While two or three people try to stop Eyüp, no one stops Hemme. Hemme, meanwhile, says things like, "Let her come." In this scene, we see Hemme's authority over Eyüp. After this scene, Eyüp decides to kill Hemme. However, the path he takes is not what he expected.

Eyüp, wanting to go to his home in Siverek to retrieve his gun, decides to get on his motorcycle and leave. The engine's constant stalling and breakdown along the way serve as a sign that Job shouldn't embark on this journey. Despite the engine stalling repeatedly, when he reaches Siverek, he puts his gun back on his belt, and the story takes a very different turn. Meanwhile, we see that the people in Siverek, like his engine, are also "staggering," hindering Job even if he doesn't do anything. We realize that while Job's day in Siverek may be an unusual day for him, it's just another day for everyone else. In fact, it's one of the days when Job kills the person he wants to kill. Life follows its normal course, and this normality creates obstacles for Job.

The slow narrative that continues throughout the film is particularly evident in Siverek. Many people unconsciously, without any intention, slow Job down. Job's dialogues and his patience in the face of what he experiences remind the audience of the Prophet Job. While all this is happening, the slowing pace transforms the audience into the prophet Job. One of the Days Hemme Died Film Review Arakat Mag Murat Fıratoğlu Ali Barkın Fırat Bozan MUBI

A Film Prone to Different Interpretations

One of the Days Hemme Died is a hybrid film that simultaneously evokes the influence of many directors and cinema from many countries, with its scenes, the character's transformation, its minimalist humor, and its supporting characters.

The slow pace of its story and the cast of amateur actors also reminded me of the Italian Neorealist movement. The films of Vittorio De Sica came to mind as films from this movement. While watching Eyüp, I was particularly reminded of the character's journey in Umberto D. (1952).

When it came to the film's minimal humor, I was reminded of the films of Aki Kaurismaki. Of course, the location choices and cinematography are quite far removed from Kaurismaki's films. But how can a filmgoer not make connections between the texts? It's also a significant film for its use of deadpan humor, a style often seen in Aki Kaurismaki's films and rarely seen in our own cinema.

Perhaps the most significant connection between One of the Days Hemme Died is Iranian cinema. Except for the aesthetic image of tomatoes being shown from the sky at the beginning, we see the oppressiveness and unaesthetic side of the countryside in many of the scenes. In comparison, the minimalist humor within inevitably reminded me of Abbas Kiarostami's films. Furthermore, the character's journey and the transformations along this journey brought to mind the Iranian film Where is the Friend's House? (1987). In this respect, I can say that One of the Days Hemme Died represents the intersection of the aforementioned Italian Neorealism Movement and the cinema of Aki Kaurismaki.

I must say that the film lends itself to interpretation within the context of the "hero's endless journey"—not to mention the cinema of all these countries and directors. One Day Hemme Died is a film that can be further layered and intertextualized with many other films as we reflect on it. One Day Hemme Died Film Review Arakat Mag Murat Fıratoğlu Ali Barkın Fırat Bozan MUBI

A Well-Considered Technique

Murat Fıratoğlu generally doesn't want to draw us closer to Eyüp or the other characters. That's why he and cinematographer Nedim Dedecan generally set the camera far away. Sometimes we see the camera static, with characters entering from the left and exiting from the right, for example. Sometimes we see characters moving away from the camera along the way. In all these scenes, the camera is positioned more as a witness than as a tool. In this respect, we see a film that complements itself with minimalist camera movements that match the film's tempo.

When we look at the film's editing, we see that we are watching an example of slow cinema. Since we're watching a film that doesn't cover a very long period of time, we have a director who also wants to tell it slowly. So much so that even in the scenes where Eyüp occasionally recalls his childhood in Siverek, we see that he remembers his past from where he is, without going back in time.

From this perspective, we see that he doesn't even use flashbacks. Furthermore, the most significant issue with editing is that the camera often doesn't cut. We see that many scenes consist of long-take sequences, and that the editing is based on camera movements. This makes the film a film that requires some patience for unfamiliar cinemagoers.

When we look at the colors used in the scenes, we notice the red accompanying the overall color of the setting, yellow. We see that red continues to haunt Eyüp, starting with the endless tomato display. Even Eyüp's motorcycle is red, and at some point, we notice that many objects around him gradually turn red. One of the Days Hemme Died is an unplanned, unexpected, and quite surprising film in our recent Turkish cinema. It's a very good film, especially considering the director and the cinemas of the country it has established relationships with.

Can Ahmet Çelik