Can (2011)

Directed by: Rasit Çelikezer | 106 minutes | drama | Actors: Selen Uçer, Serdar Orçin, Yusuf Berkan Demirbag, Erkan Avci, Zeynep Yalcin, Cengiz Bozkurt, Idil Yener, Serhat Nalbantoglu, Erdal Cindoruk, Sait Genay, Nisa Melis Telli, Kürsat Alniaçik, Güray Görkem

Turkish filmmaker Rasit Çelikezer touches upon interesting themes in his second feature film ‘Can’: the social pressure exerted by Turkish society on young married couples to start a family and the unconditional love of a mother for her child, which is taken for granted. With the somewhat remarkable form he has chosen for this, he earns points, but unfortunately the effectiveness of the two stories running side by side is lacking.

‘Can’ revolves around Cemal (Serdar Orçin) and Ayşe (Selen Uçer), one of those newlyweds from the previous paragraph. Their history means that only one befriended couple lives in the Istanbul where they live. Cemal has a job in a factory and the couple wants a child. But when Ayşe, despite the many attempts of the two to produce offspring, fails to conceive, the duo has no choice but to visit the doctor. The inexorable outcome: Cemal is barren. He feels hurt to the depths of his manhood. A colleague friend has a way out: adopt a child on the black market. But that still means a loss of face for the proud Cemal: after all, with that he admits his ‘shortcoming’. His solution – with which he puts Ayşe directly in front of the block in a humiliating scene – is as simple as it is bizarre: Ayşe has to pose as a pregnant woman with a constructed, uncomfortably sitting belly piece and when the ‘due date’ approaches, they adopt illegally have a baby. Ayşe does not feel much for this decision, but nevertheless goes along with the absurd plan. Her initial reluctance seems to take revenge after the ‘birth’: she feels nothing, absolutely nothing for the cute baby.

The second storyline in ‘Can’ revolves around a single mother (again Selen Uçer). Every day she leaves with her seven-year-old son, leaves him on a bench in a square near the harbor, and then goes to work to pick him up after her shift. She ignores his longing glances at the playground that adjoins the apartment where the two live, he doesn’t get a pat on the head, no kiss, no hug, nothing. The ritual is repeated several times, until the boy, who turns out to be called Can, gets a piece of chalk from a street artist. The crayon seems to give him the opportunity to finally become part of the world around him: like a modern Little Thumb, he crosses to find his way back and so he follows his mother to work.

That the single mother and Ayse are the same person is only clear later in the film due to the jumping between the two stories. After an hour we see how Ayse and her adoptive son have ended up in this situation: Cemal can no longer take his wife’s aversion to his son and runs away. Ayse is left alone with the child she detests, but with no friends and family left to take care of him and herself.

Aside from the title character, who will steal your heart – if only based on his looks, it’s hard to find an adult character in ‘Can’ to sympathize with. To some extent it still works. It is easy to imagine how much pain Cemal feels that he cannot father children; Ayse’s reluctance to grant her husband’s wish (or is it society’s?) is plausible. But that a woman who takes care of a child as endearing and sweet as Can for years without building an emotional bond with him is unimaginable, however much that is the very subject that Çelikezer wants to denounce. There is simply not enough explanation to make clear her inability to be motherly love. The lack of understanding for the main characters is not what kills ‘Can’. In the second half of the film there is a disturbing mistake in time that causes certain characters to go through a development that simply does not fit in the time that has passed.

All this does not make ‘Can’ a failed production. The acting is good, Selen Uçer’s continuous drooping corners of his mouth make you wonder if the actress will ever be able to smile again. The cinematography is passable, with some very inventive shots (including the opening scene, which sets a tone at odds with the rest of the film). And as unsympathetic as the characters may be, the story keeps you on your toes. ‘Can’, which won the Special Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival, won’t leave you indifferent – ​​at least during its playing time.