Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (2011)

Directed by: Nuri Bilge Ceylan | 150 minutes | drama | Actors: Muhammet Uzuner, Yilmaz Erdogan, Taner Birsel, Ahmet Mümtaz Taylan, Firat Tanis, Ercan Kesal, Cansu Demirci

Starting the title of your film with ‘Once Upon a Time in…’ immediately arouses expectations: images of endless plains in ‘The West’ or ‘Mexico’, or at the very least a comprehensive epic (‘Once Upon a Time in America ‘). Fortunately, ‘Once Upon a Time in Anatolia’ – winner of the 2011 Cannes Grand Prix – quickly lives up to its name, as after a short prelude it lets the vast expanses of the Asian part of Turkey dominate the picture. We mainly get these at night, with only a set of headlights to illuminate; it is only after an hour and a half of filming that the characters return to the light of day.

None of them enjoy this (beautifully portrayed) nocturnal ramble: it concerns a police patrol who, together with two suspects, have to track down a specific location in the sparsely populated countryside. Was it at that well? Or at the old bridge? The suspects were drunk at the time and do not remember exactly, that is not a very efficient search. The rushed cops, doctor cum coroner (Muhammet Uzuner) and prosecutor (Taner Birsel) all want it to be over quickly and seem barely interested in solving the crime. And that despite the fact that after the prelude of the film, in which we saw the two suspects meet with another man, it quickly becomes apparent that this is a murder.

Nevertheless, the cops are mostly concerned with each other, their health problems and chatting about a certain type of buffalo yogurt – in which a subordinate can never, or rather should know, better than his boss. And just as the main characters in the film see their attention drift away from the murder investigation, director Nuri Bilge Ceylan (known for the wonderful ‘Three Monkeys’ among others) seems to see this as just an excuse to focus on completely different aspects. For example, there are now and then alienating sculptures in the deserted no-man’s-land and Ceylan takes the time to follow a fallen apple that rolls into a stream, while elsewhere there is half a fistfight. As if he wants to make it clear to the viewer: look beyond the basic structure of the plot.

What goes on under that surface is quite enigmatic, thanks to all those mustachioed inner fats we encounter in Anatolia. Rarely, if ever, do they show the back of their tongues, so it takes a lot of guesswork to understand the motivations. The doctor, attorney, cops, and suspects all seem to carry secrets that are sometimes revealed, but just as often not revealed. Most are getting more complex by the minute. What does become clear is that the relationships between man and woman in the emptying, rapidly aging region are invariably difficult and they hold all the men we see in their grip. Among all these men who are tangled up with themselves are women and children, who appear only sparingly, a kind of oases of otherness, of a certain innocence. In particular, the fleeting sight of the beautiful, angelic teenage daughter of a village elder whom they visit stirs the strangest emotions in the men, giving the murder investigation a completely different turn.

Chances are, however, that every viewer will come to completely different conclusions; unambiguity is hard to find in ‘Anatolia’. But that makes the film endlessly fascinating. The fantastic design and cinematography, as well as the simple and easy-to-follow plot, drag you into the film, into an almost unfathomable depth where very little is certain. It’s a film to dwell on endlessly afterwards, and then watch again the next day.