Distant

"I love men – we're so stupid" - John Cassavetes There are times – and it's not terribly often – when a film grabs hold of you and hooks you in from the first frame, and doesn't let go until the very last. Nuri Bilge Ceylan's Climates is one of them. In the sweltering heat of western Turkey, a couple (Ceylan and real-life wife Ebru) wander through ruins. He's taking photographs, she sits on a rock. After some minutes he asks, "are you bored?" She slowly begins to cry, the camera never leaving her face. This lengthy pre-credit sequence speaks volumes about their relationship – a feat not easily achieved, and a testament to Ceylan's gift as a director. It's the kind of scene that in the hands of a lesser director would come off as pretentious, or even pointless, but here manages to fill us in on all we need to know about the doomed couple. Told over three seasons in three locales, Climates is an unflinching and uncompromising portrait of male behavior in a John Cassavetes by way of Hong Sang-soo vein. Like many of Hong's leading characters, Ceylan's Isa is a middle-aged man who finds himself at standstill, both in his career as well as his personal life. An architect who has procrastinated for too many years over completing his thesis, his job as a university professor seems to bring him little satisfaction. His self-obsession is no doubt responsible (in part, at least) for his bachelor status, and he carries himself with a masculine bravado that would make Cassavetes proud. His relationship with the much younger Bahar (Ebru Ceylan), a successful TV art-director, is more an ego-boost than anything else, as evinced by his utter lack of concern for her on their summer vacation. Isa is a man who takes what he needs from people, unable to give anything in return. (Distant, the title of Ceylan's previous feature, fits suitably here as well.) Even a visit to his parents is prompted by a need to have his pants sewn. He wants what he does not have, but only to feel victorious for having obtained it – the act of winning the game (at it were) is what satisfies his desire. Seducing an ex-girlfriend on his terms (in an uncomfortably aggressive sex scene) brings greater pleasure than the sex itself. When, on their next meeting, she becomes the aggressor, he offers a laughably lame excuse for avoiding intimacy. (Sort of a dark variation of Hong's Turning Gate.) Isa's pathological behavior drives the film's final act, which finds him pursuing Bahar once again, this time in the snowy mountains of eastern Turkey. With an increased sense of desperation disguised as a desire to change, Isa makes a concerted effort to reclaim Bahar's heart, but is he even capable of knowing what he wants? Climates' quietly devastating conclusion is somewhat like a paper cut – a simple act that leaves a disproportionate sting. There's no question that their real-life relationship is a factor in the film's success. The film is practically a love letter to Ebru Ceylan, who is simply radiant throughout, and whose performance stems out of an incredible trust. Not since John and Gena has a director gazed so lovingly at his spouse. That the couple made the film just two months after the birth of their son (the film is dedicated to him) is also remarkable, adding yet another emotional layer to the proceedings. I'd be lying if I said the film was optimistic – it opens in ruins and ends in a graveyard – yet great breakup films shouldn't be, by design. With the beauty of La Notte combined with the brutal honesty of films like 5x2, Climates is a masterpiece of the breakup genre (is there such a thing?), and without question one of the best films of 2006. Climates is currently playing in New York and California, and will be rolling out to other states in coming months. Click here for details. Do not miss this one.

Comments

[HarryTuttle]

I like a lot your comparison to Hong Sang-soo, who portays imperfect/vulnerable people unable to express sentiments coherently and finally communicate through silence, food and sexuality, as clumsy and animal as could be.
The mood of 5x2, or Suwa's Un Couple Parfait are also very close in mood.
I'm not so sure about Antonioni (L'Avventura maybe) and Cassavetes (he's more into verbalized acted-out drama than passive circumvolutions IMHO)...

Isa is a prick, machist and selfish, and we don't know whether what pull him back toward Bahar is his fear of solitude, or him missing her so much that it could almost be love. I admire particularly the ending that refuses to retributes the protagonist with a happy reconciliation after showing how much he suffered throughout the seasons. The impossibility to live together despite mutual attraction is what is beautifully explored in this film.

p.s. Does she cry before him in the opening sequence? or is it when she hides behind the wall. I think Isa doesn't even understand how he neglects her untill too late in the film. Both pretend everything is fine.

[Filmbrain]

I think it was Isa's macho swagger that reminded me of Cassavetes. Then again, I've had JC on the brain for a few weeks now.

Note: spoilers follow.

Bahar does not cry in front of him in the opening sequence. However, I don't think Isa ever understands about his neglect. His horrible treatment of her at the end -- this isn't calculated -- it's just the way he is. At least that was my reading of it.

I think Bahar is the only one pretending. The final days of the vacation -- the dinner, the day on the beach -- this is when she comes to terms with it all.

Was she really convinced by his speech on the bus? Did she really believe he changed? It seems that way, judging by her reaction at the end. Tragic.

[HarryTuttle]

Yes you're right, probably Isa never figure out what is wrong with Bahar, with their relationship, with himself... that's just the way he is. Like Cassavetes says, we men are so stupid. ;)
I don't think she truly believe him in the end, because she only come back to his hotel room as a "friend", not as a lover. And she let him go. Her strengh is precisely not to fall for his speech, despite the obvious pain it causes in her.

[Filmbrain]

Harry --

That's an interesting intepretation, and one of course that would change one's outlook about the ending.

I thought she *did* believe his story -- all that he told her on the bus. The look on her face, after she's told him this lenghty story about her mother, was (to me at least) one of total heartbreak. I believe she was ready to return with Isa to Istabul. That's how I read her breakdown in the graveyard at the end.

[HarryTuttle]

She cries because she still cares for him, but she can't allow herself to get back with him again... That's what I thought. It's not an easy ending (either she loves him or not), it's more ambivalant.
This scene under the snow fall is absolutely beautiful by the way! :)
But the actual ending (if I remember correctly) is a long scene of Isa alone, taking a picture of a church with his cab driver posing in the foreground. Which takes us back to a scene of his previous film, Distant. Thus the film closes on the man's solitude. (Bahar is out of the picture so to speak).

[deb]

I have seen the preview and the poster for this movie, but can't bring myself to see the actual film, because I find the star's rhinoplasty to be too distracting.

[Russ]

Great post, Filmbrain. I really admire the film as well.

I think Bahar knows the speech in the bus is bullshit-- how could she not? It's such rubbish. He says he wants to be married and have kids, which doesn't seem to have ever crossed his mind before his mother nags him about having kids in the preceding scenes in Istanbul. I think she just loves him, with the sort of love that hopes and believes all things, and clings to a wish that he'll eventually mature. (And he says she's the young one.)

Harry, the closing shot in the film is Bahar in the graveyard, watching the plane fly away and fade away in the snowy sky. Then Bahar fades out of the picture, leaving just the background. It's a formally strange choice, it seems to me, given the way the rest of the film is laid out. I suppose at one level I can make sense out of it as an extension of Isa's self-obsession; when he no longer wants her, she ceases to exist.

[KushCash]

Wow. Thanks for the heads up. Another film to put on the list in my wallet that I forget about until I clean it once every couple of months.

[HarryTuttle]

Ok thanks for the correction Russ. (So the scene I talk about is before he joins her in the snowy mountains?)

[Russ]

Harry, my recollection is that he goes to see Bahar, talks to her in the bus, then they separate. I can't remember whether his photographing the church and cab driver occurs before or after his night with Bahar and subsequent rejection of her, but both come before the shots of her in the graveyard where her show is filming.

There's also that shot of Isa in the bar after photographing the church where he finds the piece of paper the cab driver had scrawled his address on and Isa puts it in the ashtray. We're left just short of watching him kick a crippled puppy.

[HarryTuttle]

Well I kept the impression that the shot with the taxicab driven had an "ending touch" to it I guess (maybe that's what I thought during the screening). But I was mixed up. I didn't remember Bahar found the address of the cabdriver.

Was the church to photograph his excuse to go where Bahar worked (in Eastern Turkey)? I obviously need to watch it a second time at least...

Isn't it great that we can assume so many possible scenarii about what Bahar believed and about why Isa behaved that way. I think it's part of the added value of a contemplative narration, without overstated plot points. Each viewer can project their own fantasy onto a scene we can only apprehend partialy from outside. :)

[acquarello]

"That the couple made the film just two months after the birth of their son (the film is dedicated to him) is also remarkable, adding yet another emotional layer to the proceedings."

Very interesting, I didn't know about this piece of information, but one thing that particularly struck me about Climates was how much it reminded me of Atom Egoyan's Calendar. In that film, Egoyan (photographer) and Arsinée Khanjian (translator) also play the couple in the disintegrating relationship, and they're basically on an extended trip through Armenia to take photographs of churches for a calendar. (There's even one scene in Climates where he decides to take a picture of a mosque and uses the cab driver as a stand in for the picture.)

Anyway, ironically, the Egoyans also became parents around the time of the film's release, and people who saw the film actually thought that they had separated, especially since Khanjian wasn't around to promote the film because of the baby. It sounds as though Ceylan and his wife were tapping into the same emotional vein.

[Brian]

Fascinating. I love Calendar (my favorite Egoyan film), and I'm all the more excited to see this when it works its way up to Northern California early next year.

[Discourses]

The delay of reading this post the first time round, and finally being able to see it this month at a private view in London is frustrating.

Nonetheless, thanks Filmbrain for hotting up my interest in this particular film. Also since this is my first post, may I say this is a fine blog, a delightful discovery.

[Filmbrain]

Why thank you, Discourses. I'm glad you enjoyed the film.

[cynthia]

oh filmbrain, i'm so disappointed you fell for this one... :)

i really didn't like it. it felt like a grab-bag of arthouse tricks, mixed up and stamped with Ceylan's name. i saw kiarostami, i saw antonioni, i saw cassavetes...and nothing new added to the mix, just a rehash. and i felt the ex-girlfriend was MUCH more compelling and substantial than ebru, whose acting seemed stiff to me.