Winter Sleep (15)

Directed by Nuri Bilge Ceylan

5/5

WHEN Shakespeare wrote:“All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players,” he presumably had no conception that if we’re all typecast, then we’re not able to change.

That’s the message of Nuri Bilge Ceylan, an outstanding contributor to Turkish cinema, who relates people’s struggle in the tradition of the great communist cineaste YIlmaz Guney. 

Ceylan’s recent film Once Upon a Time in Anatolia was almost silent, shot largely in the dark that slowly illuminated the characters of the hunters looking for a murderer.

In contrast, Winter Sleep features many conversations, most of which question roles, accepted values and how lives can change.

As usual, the Anatolian landscape dominates, with the setting of a Cappadocian village moving from autumn to winter to illustrate an inner journey.

The film focuses on Aydin (Haluk Bilginer), an ageing actor from Ankara who’s set up a farm-cum-hotel and who fancies himself as a local journalist, despite not having a clue about the suffering around him. 

This is evidenced early on when a surly boy (Emirhan Doruktutan) throws a rock at him, provoking responses that trigger a chain reaction.

Slowly we’re introduced to the boy’s family, especially the lad’s drunken father Ismail (Nejat Isler) and humble brother (Serhat Kilic), an ingratiating imam wanting peace.

It turns out that Ismail can’t pay the rent to Aydin who’s evicted the family and seized their fridge and television.

It’s not as if Aydin is completely insensitive. Along with the silent complicity of his staff, he simply occupies a different stage of consciousness.

 But the bubble is burst somewhat by the powerful interjection of his divorced sister Necla (Dermet Akbag) which begins to crack the facade.

And then Aydin discovers his younger wife Nihil (Melisa Sozen) is running a local community protest, which he could have financed had she not wanted to prove her independence.

The moral point of life having more value than money is demonstrated as class hatred and injured pride contend over the debt Ismail’s family owes. 

With great characters and cinematography, Ceylan’s film suggests that we don’t accept conventions, resort to distractions and rest on our laurels if we truly want change.

Yet Aydin symbolises autocratic authority and the film forcefully implies that it takes a change in consciousness to transform society.

Winter Sleep runs over three hours but you’ll hardly notice, given it’s political weight and poignancy.