Ahlat Agaci

The main character has a very rich and interesting personality, as well as the other characters that surround him. The cinematography is amazing as usual but some of the weird things that happen during the moving shots make them far less impressive than the glorious still shots.

It's very easy to find things from your own life within the story and the dialogues that occur which makes a lot of the little-longer-than-usual scenes very engaging and that makes you wonder how the dialogue is gonna develop and conclude.

I normally don't care too much about the length of movies but I'm a little bit on the negative side with this one. That's mainly because of what I told myself halfway through the movie which was; "Ohhh, we're only halfway" instead of "Yeahhh, we're only halfway".

It's about a young writer who recently finished university. He must move back to his village from the city where he went to school. So his struggles start as he doesn't want to get used to the village life.

I felt every minute of this very long Turkish film.

Long because it's, well, long (clocking in at just over three hours). But also long because the main character, who's in virtually every frame of the movie, is such an unpleasant person to hang out with. And part of the reason that he's so unpleasant is that he's recognizable, as I've been that person myself. He's young, fresh out of college, and thinks he knows everything there is to know about life despite having almost no experience of it himself. He's cocky, condescending, and unbearable. What ultimately makes him worth spending time with, and for that matter makes the whole movie worth sticking with, is the final scene, in which he comes to understand that the father who he's shunned because of all the life mistakes he's so determined not to make himself is perhaps the one person in his life who most understands him and most emulates the ideals the son goes around shoving down everyone's throat.

This is the kind of movie I wish I had seen with someone else so I could have someone to talk about it with. Throughout the film, the protagonist has little moments of.....I'm not sure what to call them.....daydreams? hallucinations? A scene will play out one way, and the it will abruptly shift gears and play out another, leading us to believe that the first version was in the protagonist's head. I'm not sure what to make of these breaks from reality. He's written a book that he's trying to get published, so maybe these episodes are a glimpse into how events play out in his book rather than how they did in reality? Or maybe it's the reverse. Maybe the movie we're watching is the book he wrote, and these moments are what actually happened. Or maybe it's neither and I'm overthinking. Maybe he's just a writer who is always attuned to alternative paths a person's narrative might take.

The ending didn't exactly make me feel like all of the three hours preceding it were necessarily worth it. I don't know why the movie had to be quite so long. But it did linger in my head and it's made the whole movie grow in stature for me when I think back on it. I don't know that I'd want to watch it again, but I'm glad I watched it once.

Grade: A

It has been 21 years since Ceylan shot his first feature film Kasaba, whose main theme was an intellectual young man's desperate, family-stuck life in the countryside with no way out. After this film throughout his film career he focused on different themes as well of course, from middle class criticism (Climates) to film noir (Three Monkeys). But, being from Turkey, eventually in his last movies he returned to the countryside tales again. Especially this movie, The Wild Pear Tree, seemed to me as if Ceylan suffered from a partial amnesia and forgot that he shot the movie Kasaba. So he blended this "brand new film idea" with his recently developed film aesthetics and here we have The Wild Pear Tree.

In his first movies Ceylan barely had a story, he only had "themes". The rest of the movie was wonderful photography and this is what he got famous for. Then, founding clever collaborations, he learnt how to tell stories as well. But the question here is: does he really have a new story to tell? Turkey has changed a lot since Kasaba, but Ceylan's representations look like they are here to stay eternally. For instance, while Ceylan still hold on to the "intellectual stuck in the countryside" stereotype, intellectuals in the Turkish countryside either made it to the metropolises or they are replaced/outdated by the emerging religious elite.

So instead of telling a new story, Ceylan seems like he chose to "garnish" what he already has, with neverending dialogues unattached to each other. Dialogue with the girl, dialogue with the mayor, with the businessman, with the writer, with the police friend, with the imams and with this and this and this. Kind of a video game, one "countryside monster" at a time. So I think this movie is a rococo remake of minimalist Kasaba.

So if you tolerate the theatrical lines in the first dialogues, the movie is a nice one to see. But in comparison to the last 2 movies of Ceylan, this is certainly a step backwards (and surprisingly, this backwardness is evident also in the photography).

Is it possible to feel the same things with somebody struggling to build his own life, the difficulties he faces to be free from his parents' expectations or oppressions, to realize that they are not his supporters but his obstacles?.maybe a part of it, yes the duration of the film may be longer than the standards (who determines them?) at the end i felt that every scene was necessary to get closer to Sinan's feelings. Asuman who watches a Yilmaz Guney's film, the mother slapping his son's face scene in that film, maybe inspired her to make "why you didn't get the money from him" conversation with her own son or the imams and Sinan's debate about faith, the famous writer's and Sinan dialogue then conflict..even the scene about the tight budget of the lottery salesman maybe reminded Sinan his father's situation. I feel very lucky to watch this film in its original language and I'm still digesting it but as soon as the film ended, i felt like Idris, Asuman, Sinan and all other people around him are still living there, in that town Çan!

The film depicted a cliche plot of life that happen everywhere in the world that nobody in hollywood would ever produce. it's a loser story, something that might not be "inspiring", "uplifting", and just plain depressing and plays at key minor at an instrument (even tho there's some note changes at the end). it's a taboo song that people often treat as a myth. it's like discovering Bicycle Thieves and Mouchette once again.