Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s 196-minute-long film, Winter Sleep, which opens in Toronto on January 9, focuses on fraying and broken personal relationships.
Amid the lunar landscape of Cappodoccia, a rugged region in Anatolia replete with eerie caves and strange rock formations, a wealthy, good-looking man in his fifties struggles to understand the two most important women in his life, his good-hearted and unhappy wife and his divorced and discontented sister.
Aydin (Haluk Bilginer) has inherited his father’s hotel and rental cottages and is rich enough to pursue his intellectual interests. A former actor, he writes a high-brow weekly column for the local newspaper and has just begun composing a book on the history of the theater in Turkey. He works in the hotel, which caters to foreign tourists, but his mind is elsewhere. He’s so consumed by his avocations that he delegates chores to his assistant.
Emotionally detached from his attractive and much younger wife, Nihal (Melisa Sozen), Aydin labors over his articles and lives in a separate bedroom. Virtually the only time they interact is when they share a meal.
Aydin’s sister, Necla (Demet Akbag), hovers over him like a spirit, lounging on a couch as he composes his latest piece on a computer. She praises his current column and compliments him on his ability to come up with new story ideas, but she thinks he could better utilize his talents by writing for a larger newspaper. Aydin listens patiently, but insists he’s content to be a big fish in a small pond.
He doesn’t really belong in this remote, godforsaken place in the badlands of eastern Turkey, far from the theatres, literary salons, restaurants and cafes of Istanbul. Yet Aydin, dishevelled and sporting a stubble, appears to be satisfied with his lot and grateful for the solitude, which enables him to write at his leisure.
Sometimes, though, he needs to attend to pressing business matters. One of his tenants, Ismail, has fallen behind in his rent, and his presence is required. As Aydin and his faithful assistant drive to Ismail’s place, a rock suddenly shatters one of the windows of their sports utility vehicle. The culprit is Ismail’s sullen son. They bring the boy back to Ismail and demand an explanation.
Ismail promises to pay for the damage, but the incident has left a bad taste in Aydin’s mouth. This prompts Ismail’s more socially adept brother, Hamdi (Serhat Kulic), to try to smooth things over.
Although these scenes are integral to the film, the most important ones turn on Aydin’s contentious relationships with his sister and wife. These sequences unfold in the form of quiet and protracted conversations simmering with old tensions and resentments.
Necla, recently divorced from an alcoholic, confesses that she’s miserable at the hotel. She launches into a tirade, suggesting that Aydin’s columns are bloodless and that he’s not as admired today as he was during his 25-year career as an actor. Initially impassive, Aydin is eventually offended by her sharp critique.
“We have such opposite souls,” she retorts, saying she cannot believe she left Istanbul to live with him in isolation. Usually a model of restraint, Aydin responds with a torrent of harsh comments.
Aydin’s verbal confrontation with Nihal is even more unpleasant. Complaining that they lead separate lives, she threatens to leave him. By way of retaliation, he forbids her to convene meetings of her favorite charity at the hotel. He laments that she doesn’t understand him and calls her naive. She hits back, describing him as selfish, spiteful and cynical. And in a cri de coeur, she says, “My best years have been wasted.”
“We set out with good intentions,” he observes cooly. She retorts, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
Winter Sleep, which won the Palm d’Or at the 2014 Cannes Film Festival, is strong and poignant, thanks in no small part to the understated yet powerful performances of the lead actors.
The film is suffused with sadness and despair, and the mood is accentuated by a soundtrack of Schubert’s somber Piano Sonato No. 20 and the barking of dogs in the distance.
Winter Sleep, an exceptionally well-crafted picture, is a glowing tribute to contemporary Turkish cinema.