“ONCE UPON A TIME IN ANATOLIA” My rating: A- (Opening April 6 at the Tivoli)
153 minutes | No MPAA rating
I cannot begin to explain how “Once Upon a Time in Anatolia” does what it does.
That’s part of its greatness, the way in which it slowly worms its way into our consciousness and blossoms, not in big melodramatic moments but in little ripples of thought and suppressed emotion that create a mood unlike just about any film I can recall.
After a brief prologue that shows three men drinking in what appears to be a run-down car repair shop, Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s unforgettable drama begins at night in the rolling hills outside a medium-sized Turkish city. In a wide shot we see three pairs of headlights in the distance. They finally pull to a stop and men get out, some in uniforms, some carrying shovels, a couple in handcuffs.
We soon surmise that this is a police investigation. Two men have been charged with murdering a third; this expedition was organized to find the body.
One of the prisoners is so thick as to be childlike. The other, a painfully gaunt but weirdly handsome fellow named Kenan (Firat Tanis), seems shellshocked. He moves and thinks in slow motion. Often his eyes are dull. At other times they are filled with pain.
He says he remembers burying the body in a field near a fountain, a bridge and a “round tree.” But now it’s dark and nothing looks familiar.
Members of the search party are getting frustrated. They keep driving through the dark, stopping, looking around, getting back in their cars and driving some more. They get lost. With every hour they are farther from their homes.
Frustrated they pull up at small village and impose on the mayor for an after-midnight snack and some tea. The mayor learns of their mission and — realizing it could be years before anyone of importance again visits — makes a pitch for a better morgue for his little burg, one with refrigeration. When an old person dies, he says, the body is usually reeking by the time the younger relatives can make the journey from the city for the funeral.
The two prisoners have a moment with the mayor’s beautiful daughter, who brings them food and drink. All the men from the city know she’s going to waste in this dusty collection of hovels.
“Once Upon a Time in Anatolia” (the title parodies Sergio Leone’s spaghetti Western “Once Upon a Time in the West”) at first glance looks like a police procedural. We witness the sort of bickering and joking — good-natured and otherwise — that often occupies men who spend their days on the job together. The pecking order is revealed.
Among the searchers are a handful of overweight cops. A couple are irritating in their stupidity.
Others are professionals required to come along for the ride. Like the medical examiner, Doctor Cemal (Muhammet Uzuner), a decent but lonely man. Or Commissioner Naci (Yilmaz Erdogan), a police bigwig whose home life is little short of heartbreaking. Or the nattily-dressed, dignified prosecutor (Taner Birsel), to whom everyone defers and who is trying not to lose patience as the fiasco unfolds.
The film is more than 2 1/2 hours long, and two thirds of it takes place in the dark. But Gokhan Tiryaki’s cinematography is so beautiful — stars twinkling above a darkened land lit only by the sweep of moving headlights — that you wonder if it wasn’t all computer generated. How could they control the lighting in these vast landscapes?
Little by little the inner lives of the key characters are revealed. The doctor was married to a beautiful woman, but that’s over. The commissioner has an invalid son and is consumed with frustration and sadness. The prosecutor struggles with his past transgressions.
Ceylan and his co-writers (his wife, Nuri Bilge Ceylan, and Ercan Kesal) aren’t trying to solve a mystery here, and those looking for a tidily wrapped up narrative are out of luck. The film is messy in the way real life is messy. You think you know things, but maybe you don’t.
With its slow pace and quiet power, “Once Upon a Time in Anatolia” will appeal to only the most patient viewers. For those who stick with it, the rewards are enormous.
| Robert W. Butler
Mr. Butler: I am not generally the type who wirtes such comments or letters to the editor or such. I have followed your work and respected your opinions for years. I missed you when you were gone from the KC Star and have enjoyed it when I found your blog. I enjoy it very much. Over the years you have
directed me to many many films that I would not have otherwise seen and appreciate that so much. I think we have generally been in tune to what we like. I do not care for the standard Hollywood explosion fest. I love the movies and consider myself an intelligent person.
That all being said, I really think one of us missed the boat on Once Upon a Time in Anatolia. It was well reviewed by Roger Ebert in the Star as well. I found it to be a complete mystery. I have no idea what this filmmaker was trying to tell me. Yes, there were a lot of long emotional shots of peoples faces…but not sure what was trying to be conveyed. I am ok with there being no story, no real plot…but at some point there had to be something more than a guy staring out a window. There was nothing there. They tried to fill in a back story for some of these guys, but even that was incomplete and vague. We were given no real reason to care for any of them. The doctor could have been interesting , but who knows. We have no idea about him,other than he lost his wife. They took 153 minutes of my life, they certainly had the time to tell me more. It was an overly long ordeal.Each and every scene drug out at a snails pace. I am not easily bored by a film, but I was begging for this one to go someplace, any place and it never did. The lengthy scenes that never went anywhere nor ultimately had any meaning….the apple that falls from the tree and rolls down the hill into the stream. Huh??? The conversations that really never supplied any insight. Oh well, it is likely me….You rarely give an A or A-..so I had to see it, but on this one, I just didn’t get it.
Nonetheless,m please keep up the otherwise great work.