Des temps et des vents

To begin with, I must say I was impressed with the cinematography. Turkish cinema is really going in a good direction. In general, I liked the movie as it is but the content did not satisfy so much. During the whole movie, you are exposed to very nice scenery that really reflects the Turkish rural life. The acting was professionally done as well. So the base components of the movie were quite good. The only missing part was a story. I mean it. You can start watching at any time and you wouldn't feel like you missed something. May be the story was so deep that my poor soul couldn't get it but I really asked myself what was this whole thing about, after the movie. I don't want to ruin the reputation of the movie but scenery without content should not be praised that much.

Times and Winds is a portrait of family life in rural Turkey centred on the lives of three young children: Omer, Yakup and Yildiz. The village that they live in is a slightly ramshackle affair; many houses are showing their age and the cobble roads are worn and wonky. The surroundings, on the other hand, are sumptuously beautiful, ranging from lush green woodland to spectacular rocky cliffs and the gloriously shining sea. Director Reha Erdem uses Steadycam to track the characters as they travel through the village and the countryside, creating a sense that the little settlement and its grand surroundings are a seamless, congruous whole.

The village, however, is not a harmonious place: there is great distrust between different generations, from the oldest to the youngest, and Omer, Yakup and Yildiz are caught up in this. The three young children all earn the displeasure and disappointment of their elders, and in turn become disillusioned and resentful.

Omer's father, a local imam, is ever disappointed with his eldest son, and does little to hide his preference for Ali, Omer's bright younger brother. Omer begins to devise ways of killing his father, who is already suffering under the effects of a disease. Meanwhile, Yakup, Omer's close friend, is upbraided by his father, the muezzin, for trying to steal cigarettes, but finds – to his dismay – that he is being lectured by a moral hypocrite. The women in the village are not free from this futile cycle where the old alienate the young and the young resent the old: Yildiz, an intelligent young girl, has to look after her baby sibling on behalf of her mother, and suffers increasingly under the stress of this responsibility.

It is no wonder that in their complicated, unrewarding family lives these children yearn for an escape, and so they gather together in the wilderness around their village to plot and play and dream. Recurring images show the young children lying prone – dead or asleep – out in the wilderness, a sad reflection of a world where they already feel like a disappointment.

That is not to say that this is a wholly bleak portrait of life in rural Turkey. It is cheering to see the work done by the village committee members, who gather together to discuss pressing local issues. They condemn the beating of a local shepherd boy by his acting father and they organise the building of a new roof for an elderly lady as the winter sets in. There are also some very funny moments in Times and Winds, including the scenes where the children giggle over procreating animals. Even these scenes, however, are ultimately permeated with the same sadness found throughout the film: the boys catch the girls watching a pair of copulating horses and chase them away, in the belief that girls should not be allowed to see such things. In a place where religious figures such as the imam and the muezzin fall far short of the lofty ideals to which they aspire it is sad to see the wrong-headed behaviour inspired in these children.

The film finds the perfect accompaniment in the music of Finnish composer Arvo Part. The sombre, haunting strings that swell periodically throughout Times and Winds mingle with the sounds of nature and of everyday life, and fittingly reflect the torment of human relationships against the most serene and beautiful of backdrops. Though nearly two hours long and driven by only the loosest of plots, Times and Winds does not feel like a slow film. There are so many characters and incidents that the film can be a little confusing in places, but it is relentlessly engaging. Times and Winds is all the more remarkable film for having come seemingly out of nowhere and it will hopefully win some much-deserved attention for new Turkish cinema.

BAS VAKIT (TIME AND WINDS) is less a narrative film than a suspended contemplation on the cycle of life, the passage of time, and the persistence of family traits. It is a work from Turkey of rare beauty visually, musically, and natural grandeur. Writer/director Reha Erdem is a poet as well as an accomplished filmmaker.

Three young children are approaching the torrents of adolescence, each carrying emotional scars and family histories that will forever alter the way they reach adulthood. Omer (Ozkan Ozen) is the son of the local imam who climbs the minaret five times a day to chant the call to prayer: Omer's younger, smarter brother is favored by the father and Omer copes with the loathing for his father by planning his death. Yakup (Ali Bey Kayali), Omer's closest friend, has a crush on his teacher (Selma Ergeç) but is deeply disillusioned when he spies on his own father (whom he has always defended against his grandfather's abuse) attempting to court his teacher. Yildiz (Elit Iscan) is a girl under-appreciated by her mother and is stunned to overhear her parents coupling. The three children attempt to engage in a normal childhood, reacting tot he beauty of the natural surroundings of their poor little village to the point of learning animal husbandry first hand! They befriend another young orphan Davut (Tarik Sonmez), the town shepherd, when he sustains physical abuse from his guardian. The sensitivity of the children's reflections of their parents' maladaptive behavior creates a bond that sustains their daily trials.

There is not a lot of narrative here, but the sensory pleasures of the film are immense. Divided into sections labeled Night, Evening, Afternoon, Noon and Morning, the film follows the marriage of the calls to worship that clock the lives of these people with the atmospheric cinematography by Florent Herry and embellished by the sumptuous musical score by Arvo Pärt. It is a long film (just short of two hours) that takes its time to unfold the mysteries of coming of age and it is a film that will haunt the viewer long after the credits have ceased. In Turkish with English subtitles. Grady Harp

While there's nothing wrong with creating a film that says life is pretty much a drag for young people who are innocent victims of their parents and grandparents traditional ways, this film beats the theme to death.

For me, the film primarily rings with one quality: hopelessness. Filled with symbolism designed, I believe, to express the filmmaker's view that the preadolescents we meet are pretty much resigned to life as it is, and without even a hint that they have any way out of their situation, the film, while photographed beautifully, and with competent acting by most of the characters, emerges as little more than a turgid overview of a rural life that few westerners have been witness to on the screen.

There are far better films that do the same thing. I think of Bicycle Thieves, of the Apu trilogy, of Sugar Cane Alley, and of several other titles that bare witness to humans (young people especially) living lives of "quiet desperation" (as Thoreau put it), but which do so in ways that indicate the reasons, and which also present their characters as people who at least make an attempt to struggle against a situation they little understand and of which they are the victim.

Don't avoid the Times and Winds. See it, but do so as a lesson in how an inadequate film could have been so much more.

Dan Bessie / danbes@volcano.net

Two pre-teen boys and a girl endure pain caused by the inbred generational habits of their parents in Reha Erdem's minimalist Times and Winds. Set in the remote village of Kozlu in Northern Turkey overlooking the sea, the film reflects the traditions of the culture in which it occurs, showing how parents repeat the mistakes of their own parents and those that came before them. Times and Winds is shown in five parts beginning with night and ending with morning, mirroring the daily time that is divided by the sound of the call to Salah, the compulsory ritual prayer, performed five times each day after ablution. The film stresses the importance of religion and prayer in the life of the simple villagers but it is apparently not enough of an influence to prevent them from mistreating their children.

Omer (Ozkan Ozen) holds feelings of bitterness towards his father, the local imam, who not so subtly favors his brother and is not hesitant to say how much smarter the younger boy is. Omer dreams of ways to kill his father – opening the window over his bed so his cough will worsen, emptying the capsules of the medicine he is taking for his illness, pushing him over a cliff, or simply getting together a group of local scorpions to pay him a visit. Omer's best friend Yakup (Ali Bey Kayali) is upset when he sees his grandfather constantly demean his father, calling him useless and lazy. Yakup also has a crush on his teacher (Selma Ergec) and refuses to wash the thumb that is stained with the teacher's blood from a foot mishap. When the boy sees his father furtively peeking into the window of his teacher's house, he is devastated.

The boys' female cousin, Yildiz (Elit Iscan), has a strained relationship with her mother who favors her younger sister and uses her as a household slave. Though sexuality is barely touched on in the film, Yildiz is brought to confused tears when she hears her parents making love. Other scenes show the children's embarrassment when they watch animals mating in the field, reminiscent of the film Japon by Carlos Regadas, whose poetics seem to have been an influence in this film. Another boy, Davut (Tarik Sonmez), an orphan who is the town shepherd, shows the scars on his back to the town council after he is physically beaten by a villager, but can only cringe when they tell the offender that what he did was wrong but exact no punishment.

Times and Winds has a poetic look and feel with beautiful pastoral scenes of the Turkish countryside in summer captured by cinematographer Florent Herry, but shots such as the children sleeping outdoors are repeated once too often to maintain interest. While the music of Arvo Part lends atmosphere, it is overly dramatic and is used to the point where it becomes irritating and distracting. In a film of this nature where there is little narrative drive, it seems that the ambient sounds of nature would have better served the director. Times and Winds has strong performances from its non-professional cast and contains some poignant moments that can be powerful, but Erdem seems to be trying too hard and the film lacks flow and the kind of emotional pull to make it truly memorable.