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.

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.

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.

This film is surprisingly balanced in many ways. It manages to have quirky, humorous characters who are still pretty real and relatable. It manages to have a young star who is likable yet also has some evil thoughts. It's beautiful and slow, but not heavy and profound.

All in all, a very worthy film. However there were a few awkward, overdone scenes that broke the spell for me. In particular, those with a father trying to make his good for nothing sons be useful. One makes do, but the other is both lazy and dumb. These characters never felt real....or even interesting.

Also, a few moments were just a little too telegraphed; a little too obvious. When a girl is running with a little baby down a steep road, for instance...hmmm, I wonder what might happen?

It depicts rural, small town life near the Turkish coast and, accordingly, moves at a pretty slow pace. Might be a bit slow for some, but should be enjoyable nonetheless. The current rating is over 9 points. Way too high, in my opinion, but this film is still a good time.

A tiny poor village of a few hundreds, surrounded by rocky cliffs. Goats and olive trees, as everywhere in the region. The Black Sea can be seen from the cliffs, having the changing color of the sky, gray when it's windy, blue when it's sunny. Poverty of the place continuing in the majesty of the landscape, village life mastered by the moods of nature. The five times of prayer, midnight, morning, noon, afternoon, evening, are just brief moments to realize that you are at the mercy of what time brings.

This is Kozlu, the birthplace of Turkish director Reha Erdem, and Bes Vakit (Times and Winds, made in 2006) is about this village and these cliffs, about the moods of weather and the times of prayer, and about these people.

It is a movie full of love for this universe while devoid of any sentimentalism. The magnificent surroundings, the cliffs and the sea in close distance, pictured with awe, the poor village pictured with love, you feel this tenderness flowing from the screen; where the movie becomes unsentimental is when picturing the moods of people. They are his people, the guys of his village, the director is one of them, it is his universe. It is here love and lucidity. From the elders to the young, they are too challenged by these times and winds, to find space for kindness to one another. The elders are authoritative to the point of arbitrariness, the children grow up feeling the unfairness of the elders, hating them, childishly wishing their death. Three children of some eleven, twelve years are the main characters of this movie. On the threshold of puberty, a coming of age through frustration and resentment, balanced eventually by the miracles of nature they are witnessing. The unexpected coming and going of storms and winds will slowly teach them about the relativity of everything. The animal mating will be an abrupt lesson about the ultimate simplicity of love. The birth of a baby will show them the beauty of life despite all odds. The approaching of death of the father will make the boy suddenly and painfully realize what fear means, the terrible fear of loosing his father, how stupid his hate has been, his wish to see him dead.