Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Nuri Bilge Ceylan
Starring: Deniz Celiloğlu, Merve Dizdar, Musab Ekici, Ece Bağcı, Erdem Şenocak, Yüksel Aksu
Screenwriting gurus are notorious for giving terrible advice to budding
writers. Their approach to creating a piece of art usually has all the
nuance of a career guidance teacher instructing a pupil how to polish a
curriculum vitae. One of the most cretinous pieces of advice such
instructors like to give is the idea of getting into a scene late and
leaving it early. It's a mindset that reduces storytelling to little
more than a delivery vessel for a series of key points, and wrongly
believes the point of a scene is merely to get a piece of information
across as quickly and efficiently as possible.
Most great filmmakers ignore this maxim, none more so than Turkish
auteur Nuri Bilge Ceylan. His films usually run past the three
hour mark because he gets into his scenes early and leaves them late.
He's not concerned with spotlighting the point of a particular scene,
rather he prefers to obfuscate it by having his characters bicker for so
long that they reach a point where they forget what they were meant to
be arguing about. This makes his films tangibly real in a way few other
filmmakers have been able to crack. His protagonists aren't easily
defined because he doesn't reduce their development to a few key points
that can be summed up on a wall of post-it notes. We spend so much time
with them that we realise their actions often contradict their words,
and we come to recognise that they may not even understand themselves.
Do any of us really understand ourselves?
With Winter Sleep,
The Wild Pear Tree
and now About Dry Grasses, Ceylan has completed a thematic trilogy centred on narcissistic men
who believe themselves to be above their rural Anatolian surrounds. The
embittered protagonist of About Dry Grasses is Samet (Deniz Celiloglu), a young teacher stationed in, you guessed it… rural Anatolia. Being
the male protagonist of a Ceylan film, he's none too happy about this.
Samet dreams of leaving for a post in Istanbul once the current school
year ends. But first he needs to get through a harsh winter.
Samet's troubles are added to when he and fellow teacher and housemate
Kenan (Musab Ekici) are accused of behaving inappropriately
towards a pair of female pupils. This might seem like the setup for a
legal drama but the accusations are buried by the school board and Samet
and Kenan are allowed to immediately return to their jobs, teaching the
very girls who levelled the accusations.
Samet learns that one of the accusers is Sevim (Ece Bagci), a
precocious pupil to whom he has displayed a highly unprofessional level
of favouritism, going so far as to gift her a make-up mirror and
allowing her to link arms as they walk through the school corridors. A
search of pupils' bags by the teaching staff had unearthed a love letter
penned by Sevim, which Samet retrieved but told her he had torn up and
thrown away. Samet believes this to be the reason behind Sevim's
accusation.
It's never hinted that Samet has any sinister intentions towards Sevim,
whom he seems to view as a kindred spirit, the one pupil he feels might
make something of herself. Viewing her accusation as a betrayal, Samet
sinks further into his disillusionment. We never learn who Sevim's love
letter was actually addressed to, but Samet certainly assumes he was to
be the recipient. There's nothing to suggest that Samet would physically
act on a declaration of love from the child, but he's such a narcissist
that he seems to encourage her placing him on a pedestal.
Like most narcissists, Samet really hates himself, and his inability to
love himself means he doesn't care for anyone else either. After meeting
Nuray (Merve Dizdar), a teacher from another school, Samet
decides to try to pair her romantically with Kenan. You get the
unnerving sense that it's not an act of altruism, rather that Samet
needs to create a love rival so he can feel like more of a victor when
Nuray ultimately chooses him over Kenan. When he realises his plan has
backfired and that Kenan and Nuray have been secretly spending time
together, Samet cruelly decides to disrupt their relationship.
At one point Nuray mentions a detail about her father that suggests she
could be talking about the aging grumpy protagonist of Ceylan's
Winter Sleep. She claims Samet reminds her of her old man, and it doesn't seem to
be meant as a compliment. Samet is a despicable individual, but in a
very recognisably human way. We spend so much time in his company that
we're forced to start questioning if we have a little more in common
with Samet than we might like.
Ceylan's trademark lengthy philosophical discussions/debates/arguments
are present once again. The centerpiece of a Ceylan film is often an
extended scene in which a man breaks a woman's spirit. Here it's a
particularly uncomfortable interaction between Samet and Nuray at the
latter's apartment. Nuray extends a dinner invitation to Samet and
Kenan, but Samet withholds the invite from Kenan so he can spend the
evening alone with Nuray. The scene becomes increasingly skin-crawling
and disturbing, so much so that at one point Samet breaks the fourth
wall and walks off the film's set, as though the actor playing him
needed a break from inhabiting such a cad. Nuray willingly agrees to
sleep with Samet, but it's as close as a consensual coupling gets to
rape. Nuray is a victim of assault; she just doesn't realise it.
You would think spending over three hours in such unpleasant company
would prove an ordeal but About Dry Grasses passes by in
an instant. The length of their scenes makes Ceylan's films seem a lot
shorter than their intimidating run times. We become so immersed and
engrossed in each extended bout that we don't notice the time pass.
Ceylan gets into his scenes early, often leaving a character to
contemplate the ensuing drama before it unfolds, and he forces us to
hang around to a point where we feel complicit in voyeurism. What Ceylan
likes to do is get into his stories late and leave them early. We're
dropped into a point in Samet's life where a lot has already occurred
that we're not privy to, and we leave him at a stage where it seems he
might be about to develop. What we get in between are a few months in
the company of a man at his lowest ebb, embracing his worst self to keep
him warm in a cold winter. It's not always easy to watch, but you dare
not look away.
