Enciclopedia de Estambul

This movie is not really about Istanbul per say, except as a metaphor, as many big cities are, for escaping to the masses.

Meaning away from the fishbowl of where you came from, and the limiting borders of your previous existence, and to the generic mass of humanity, where you either lose yourself or find yourself. Or possibly both.

The premise is interesting, if not fully fleshed out. Students of architecture are asked to share the impact the city has had on them.

Our two leads, both female, have come to the city from a smaller city many hours away. One came a long time ago, and one just recently. You see the before and after effects. The seasoned, hardened mature woman, and the fresh-faced acolyte.

You never see any of the students sketching things. Yet you would think that architecture majors would be constantly drafting. There is very little discussion about buildings or urban planning.

But there is plenty of narration about the neighborhoods of the city as experienced by the young lead. The mature woman is done with this city and the country. That's an important part of the story.

The combined forces of a complex and perhaps suffocating culture, and her personal baggage have beat her down.

There is no action in this movie whatsoever, nor sex. It is strictly discussions, arguments, crying, and philosophical observations.

The main characters feel torn between obligation, and the yearning to be free. People who make movies are generally liberal and sometimes free spirits.

So don't be surprised that this film presents traditional religion as burdensome to women. Some may find it offensive. There is some graphic symbolization.

Casting was impressive. The mature lead has a gravitas about her that draws you in. The young one is radiant.

The cinematography is excellent. There are interesting shots of the city and creative angles.

But be ready for potential boredom too. Because there is an enormous amount of talking, shots of people listening or thinking, and crying.

Turkey is an ancient place. Let's hear more about what exactly plagues the city and country, that is driving out one lead and baffling the other.

It felt like opening a timeworn diary - one written not with ink, but with cobblestones, faded photographs, and the echo of seagulls. The rhythm was slow, like a city stretching awake at dawn, revealing its soul not all at once, but piece by piece. What moved me most was how the ordinary became sacred: a street name, a forgotten café, the way light touched old windows. It didn't just inform - it embraced. Watching it felt like walking hand in hand with memory, through fog and golden light. There was sorrow, yes - the ache of what's been lost - but also wonder in what remains. It reminded me that a city isn't just buildings or history, but layers of lives, stories, and breath. When it ended, I felt quiet - not empty, but full of something ancient and alive.

Istanbul has been at the crossroads of humanity since the human story began. However, this is not a story about Istanbul. Neither Istanbul's history, nor its beauty, nor its complexities are addressed in this series, but they are always there, always pressing against the lens. Istanbul is the backdrop for a well acted, well told tale of two women struggling to define themselves in a city that has witnessed entire civilizations come and go, a city of ancient lore and modern rhythms, and like most huge cities, a place of abundant indifference.

This is the story of a young, bright eyed Zehra, off to the big city to start her life. Zehra quickly takes refuge with Nesrin, the estranged cousin, and once best friend of Zehra's mother. Nesrin, who came to this city as a young girl herself, is now a middle aged doctor, hardened by her time here, and desperate to escape.

The title of this movie is taken from "Istanbul Encyclopedia", an incomplete guidebook that was first published in 1944. It is a guidebook that our young protagonist Zehra is using to learn about her new environment. It is through select points of interest in this book that Zehra tells us what she learns from her experience in Istanbul.

Both my wife and I enjoyed this series very much, partly because we have been to Istanbul and fell in love with it, but mostly because this series was well made. The casting of actors were excellent choices, and those actors did an excellent job of bringing their characters to life and making them believable. The direction, the cinematography, and the writing were also very well done. Our only disappointment was that it didn't show off more of that magnificent city. But, Istanbul is always there, always leaning in.

Istanbul Ansiklopedisi is not a documentary-it's a quiet act of remembrance. Watching it feels like walking through a half-forgotten dream, where every alley and voice holds a story you didn't know you missed. It's not about nostalgia for the sake of beauty; it's about memory, identity, and the layers we live on without always noticing.

There's no rush, no dramatization. Instead, the film lets Istanbul speak through people, places, and pauses. Its rhythm is slow but steady-like the city's own heartbeat. You don't just learn about Istanbul; you feel its breath, its wounds, its wit.

By the end, I felt like I had been handed a photo album with no captions-just moments, quietly powerful and impossibly familiar. It's a love letter, not to the city we see, but to the city we sense-just under the surface, still whispering.

It felt like leafing through an old book where each page was scented with memory - textured, intimate, and quietly alive. The city wasn't just a backdrop; it was a breathing character, shifting with time, watching silently as lives unfolded within its veins. Every episode was like wandering through a different street at dusk - where laughter echoed off the walls of the past, and shadows whispered stories you almost remember. What moved me most was the tenderness in its gaze - it didn't try to impress, it invited. It let the city's poetry speak in gestures, glances, and shared silences. Watching it felt like returning somewhere you've never been, but somehow missed. And when it ended, I didn't feel like it was over - I felt like I had been entrusted with a secret, one only the heart could translate.