----------Warning: This article may contain spoilers!
Among the notable figures of Turkish cinema who have achieved limited international recognition, such as Metin Erksan, Ömer Kavur, and the controversially acclaimed Yılmaz Güney, Nuri Bilge Ceylan stands out as the first director to attain lasting prominence on the global stage, and this article focuses on the distinguished filmmaker. Ceylan views the world through the lens of Anton Chekhov, whom he reveres as a great writer capable of conveying life's daily but tragic dimensions with meticulous details despite the plain expression, thus the Chekhovian storytelling filter permeates his films quite a lot. He is heavily influenced by Andrei Tarkovsky and Abbas Kiarostami as well, with his work prominently featuring visual symbolism, settings predominantly featuring rural and small-town environments, and exceptional cinematography and art direction. Additionally, he draws from Bergman’s use of silence to convey narrative depth and Rohmer’s seemingly inconsequential storytelling that, in reality, reveals profound insights.
Ceylan's casting choices evolved from using relatives to professional actors, with even his parents appearing in his films. He frequently collaborates with his wife (Ebru Ceylan) too, who contributes significantly as an actress, art director, and screenwriter. Regarding the relations with his entourage, his friendship with Zeki Demirkubuz, another esteemed modern Turkish director, has been marked by public and social media discussions about festivals and allegations of plagiarism. This former friendship, now turned into a feud, also found place in both side’s films through overt or veiled accusations, has even led to Ceylan being dubbed the "Mayor of Cannes" by Demirkubuz. Although initially a mocking title, in my opinion, it actually fittingly acknowledges his success and recognition in arthouse cinema. Eventually, Ceylan, an auteur who prefers to let his art speak for itself, has crafted a remarkable filmography that showcases his unique vision and cinematic voice. His filmography starts with the (short) film, Cocoon (Koza), offers early glimpses of themes he later explores in his "Provincial Trilogy" (Kasaba, Mayıs Sıkıntısı, Uzak), and in the following his feature films including those that form the trilogy will be subjected.
His first feature film, The Small Town (Kasaba) portrays the daily life of a three-generation family living in a small Anatolian town, capturing the visual simplicity and beauty of nature while deeply exploring the inner worlds and relationships of its characters. Released in 1997, this first film of the Provincial Trilogy (Taşra Üçlemesi) presents us the characters who are directly or at least spiritually connected with the following two movies. Covering approximately 24 hours, the film portrays the monotonous lives of the family with fleeting moments of detail. The film's overarching theme is feeling trapped in life: hopeful children seeking fun and exploration, disdainful adults surrounded by aggression due to pessimism, and elderly characters seemingly resigned to their fate, living with memories but still demands from life. Also, the opening classroom scene hints at critiques of the educational system, though not powerfully. During two other significant and connected scenes, the audience sees a child's act of turning a turtle upside down and later seeing it in his nightmare in which debates of child innocence and confrontation with conscience are shown, motifs recurring in the director’s later films.
Years later, Ceylan regarded this film as his least favorite due to issues with dialogue and dubbing, which significantly influenced his subsequent works. The screenplay is weak and mostly relying on a lengthy and climactic sequence where the family converses in the forest, forming the backbone of the narrative and culminating in a confrontation about life. However, that part feels pretty tedious, requiring the audience to invest considerable effort to contextualize and digest it. Generally, the film's high ambition to be an arthouse piece brings to mind the saying, "The difference between medicine and poison is the dose." Although it aims to convey a message of alienation from the roots at least from time to time as far as one can assume, the screenplay's stagnation, suboptimal realism in dialogues, and relatively unsuccessful transitions hinder effective communication of this theme to the audience. Additionally, the performances, hampered by dubbing, come across as mediocre. Despite these drawbacks, the film can be seen as part of Ceylan’s journey in discovering his storytelling language. It serves as a precursor in both the trilogy and Ceylan’s cinema, managing to attract some attention in local and international film festivals.
The second film of the trilogy, Clouds of May (Mayıs Sıkıntısı), was released in 1999 and follows young director Muzaffer as he returns to his small Anatolian hometown to shoot a new film. Using his family and local townspeople as amateur actors, Muzaffer faces various challenges, both from his cast and due to financial constraints. His father, Emin, is skeptical of Muzaffer’s filmmaking and is more focused on preventing the cutting down of trees in his field by the state, while his mother continues with her daily routines. This film contains autobiographical elements, referencing Ceylan's own journey in cinema. The narrative occasionally suffers from a lack of fluidity due to the editing, and the amateur acting can be problematic, though this may not be evident to viewers watching with dubbing or subtitles. The film’s script prominently features the stories of a selfish director and a father resisting the system (played by Mr. Ceylan’s own father). Despite his lack of professional acting experience, Mehmet Emin Ceylan’s heartfelt performance lends a modest credibility to the film’s critique of the system.
While the screenplay doesn’t provide a direct sequel to "The Small Town," it makes numerous references to the previous film and maintains thematic, stylistic, and spiritual connections. Although films about making films are often intriguing, this one isn’t among the best in that genre. It touches on the challenges of filmmaking but remains somewhat superficial. However, the clash between the filmmaking son and the realities of town life is convincingly portrayed especially through the dialogues. Overall, the film demonstrates the director’s growth since the previous film, and the trilogy's increasing quality is evident. The story, though not particularly captivating or engaging, at least ensures that viewers become invested in the characters’ journeys, making them curious about their developments and outcomes. The political aspect of the film, conveyed through the father's character, adds a layer to the criticism of the system, though it’s not the film’s strongest element and gets somewhat lost in the narrative rather than making a mark on the story. Mr. Ceylan once again by foregrounding the town life, explores themes of systemic neglect, selfishness, and the questioning of innate innocence and morality. It effectively serves as a precursor to the next film, "Distant," which spends only a short portion in the town. Eventually, this work also contributed to the director’s recognition through nominations and awards at both local and international festivals.
The third film of the trilogy, Distant (Uzak) released in 2002, tells the story of Mahmut, a lonely and melancholic photographer living in Istanbul, and his cousin Yusuf, who comes to the city from the countryside to find work. Mahmut struggles to adapt to Yusuf’s presence, disrupting his orderly and isolated life. As Yusuf roams the city in search of a job, the contrast between the characters becomes even more pronounced due to Mahmut’s urban loneliness and disappointments, and as Yusuf's plans clash with reality, the tension also deepens. Considered one of Ceylan's best films, alongside “Once Upon a Time in Anatolia” and “Winter Sleep”, “Distant” portrays two men who have failed to achieve their main goals in life. Yusuf, the younger man, is talkative, warm, enthusiastic, and an optimistic dreamer with naive courage. In contrast, Mahmut, the middle-aged man, is misanthropic, has stopped dreaming, is devoid of expectations, and is a realist verging on pessimism. Their shared loneliness and difficulties with women are other significant aspects of the narrative.
Generally, the film's character designs and their dynamics are exceptionally well-crafted. It provides the strongest sense of continuity within the trilogy, particularly in terms of story and character development, surpassing the connection felt in the previous films. The pastoral atmosphere present in the first two films enriches the visuals once again, with refined use of both Istanbul and rural settings. Despite its minimalistic script, the film is far more engaging and intriguing than the other films in the trilogy. At the Cannes Film Festival, it won both the Grand Prize of the Jury and the Best Actor award - for both lead actors: Muzaffer Özdemir and Mehmet Emin Toprak. Tragically, Ceylan’s favored actor in his early career, Mr. Toprak, passed away just a day after learning that the film had been selected for Cannes. This poignant backstory adds a layer of depth to the film's reception and legacy.
The first film after the trilogy, Climates (İklimler), released in 2006, tells the story of the fragile relationship between academic İsa and art director Bahar, and the emotional transformations İsa undergoes during its collapse and after. Following their breakup, İsa briefly rekindles a re-connection with his ex-girlfriend Serap, which also fails to meet his expectations, though his level of expectation is quite debatable. Later, learning that Bahar is working on a film set in Eastern Anatolia, İsa decides to follow her in an attempt to salvage their relationship. The film poignantly reflects the transformations in the characters' inner worlds and the fragility of human relationships, paralleling the changing seasons.
Ceylan himself plays the lead role, aware that better performances could have been achieved with other actors. This decision is not driven by ego but by his experimental approach to filmmaking. However, the performances are generally lackluster, contributing to my overall unfavorable view of the film. Alongside "The Small Town," "Climates" is one of Ceylan’s weakest films, featuring a cumbersome story centered entirely around the characters' relationships and development, which, influenced by seasonal changes as the trademark of the story, falls short of its potential. Despite the film's weak narrative and performances, it benefits from its diverse geographical settings and their visual appeal. The characters, though portrayed with mediocre acting, still possess a certain realism that allows viewers to connect with their own past, present, or possible future. The characters' indifferent and self-centered traits are effectively conveyed through the dialogue. After this film, Ceylan moved away from amateur actors, also marking the beginning of what I consider his prime period, despite the exceptional quality of "Distant”. However, "Climates" won the FIPRESCI Award at the Cannes Film Festival, and managed to contribute to Ceylan's growing recognition.
The 2008 film Three Monkeys (Üç Maymun) tells the story of a small family on the brink of collapse due to a car accident and the subsequent events. Politician Servet, involved in that car accident one night, refuses to take responsibility especially due to the upcoming elections. He offers his driver, Eyüp, a large sum of money to take the blame. Eyüp, aiming to improve his family's financial situation, accepts the offer and goes to prison. While he is in prison, his wife Hacer and son İsmail face a complex period. Hacer begins a secret relationship with Servet, and İsmail, who is already mingling with unsavory characters and unable to stay out of trouble, becomes even more detached from the family meanwhile. Upon his release, Eyüp senses the transformations and the truth within his family, primarily due to their lack of communication which even hinders the confrontation.
The film mainly delves deeply into the difficulties of confronting ignored truths, lies, and secrets. The family in this film is the most spiritually fragmented compared to Ceylan's previous works, playing three monkeys to each other throughout most of the film, and the politician, the only other character deeply connected to the family, is similarly selfish and insensitive. Relevant and correlated to this given background, many impactful scenes in the film suggest significant actions without directly showing them, leaving the audience to imagine while being fully exposed to their effects. The character designs are overall successful, aligning well with the harsh and realistic story. Yavuz Bingöl's performance as Eyüp individually stands out, fitting his role with a calm and subtle portrayal, making it one of the best casting choices in Ceylan's cinema. The film is also notable for being the first to use CGI, with strong efforts and touches to enhance the atmosphere and viewer experience. Although the underlying message (and the visualization) is powerful, the over-simplicity of the plot sometimes feels noticeable. While simple and minimal stories can be highly effective, as seen a lot in the director’s filmography "Three Monkeys" sometimes feels like watching a TV movie, nevertheless, it remains a significant work in Ceylan's career and make him even won the Best Director award at the Cannes Film Festival, marking his first major impact on the international stage.
Ceylan's 2011 masterpiece, Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (Bir Zamanlar Anadolu’da), follows an overnight search in the rural Anatolian countryside for a murder victim's body. A prosecutor, a doctor, police officers, gendarmes, and the murder suspect embark on this journey as the suspect struggles to recall the burial site. During the search, the film dives deep into the personal lives, inner worlds, and relationships of the characters. The prosecutor and doctor engage in profound philosophical and personal conversations, while the tension between the police and the suspect escalates. This nocturnal journey not only aims to solve a murder but also transforms into an introspective journey for the characters themselves. The film also offers a nuanced look at how bureaucracy operates in rural settings and the inferiority complexes that manifest among many individuals within these environments.
The standout performance of the film comes from Taner Birsel, who delivers a remarkable portrayal of a prosecutor grappling with his sins, initially avoiding and eventually confronting them. The Mukhtar Scene, featuring Ercan Kesal who is also one of the screenwriters, also became iconic, largely because the story is based on his real-life experiences as a doctor in Anatolia. The film's cinematography, set choices, and overall landscape backgrounds emphasize a pervasive sense of emptiness—spiritual, existential, and intellectual as well as a mesmerizing appeal! This film, in my opinion, is his best work, excelling in visuals, direction, character development, and performances. It is deceptively minimalistic yet engaging, seamlessly blending elements of a road movie, family drama, soft thriller, and social realism, making it a unique cinematic experience. While it is a predominantly masculine film, which also incorporates a subtle Western-ish tone with an air of mystery befitting its title, with few mentions of women, its strength mostly lies in its exploration of male dynamics and masculinity. The film didn't leave Cannes Film Festival empty-handed, winning the Grand Prize of the Jury, further solidifying Ceylan's international acclaim.
The 2014 film Winter Sleep (Kış Uykusu) centers on Aydın, a former actor now running a small hotel in Cappadocia, and his emotional and intellectual conflicts with his wife Nihal and his sister Necla. Set against the backdrop of Cappadocia's winter landscapes, the film deeply explores the characters' inner worlds and their complex relationships. Aydın spends his time writing for a local newspaper and managing his hotel and properties, while Nihal has grown distant from him, focusing on her charitable works. Necla, having moved from Istanbul to live with Aydın, leads a life filled with unhappiness and regret. Throughout the film, the characters' conflicts, arguments, and reckonings provide deep insights into their inner lives. Aydın's self-reflection, Nihal's hopes and disappointments, and Necla's regrets are intricately woven with the cold of winter and the harsh nature of Cappadocia, offering a profound narrative on human nature, moral responsibility, and personal confrontations.
The story generally revolves around characters from different levels and backgrounds who have not achieved their desired goals. All the main characters, especially the leads, disdain each other's semi-pitiful and semi-idealistic efforts to exist, driven by an immense fear that the other might succeed and find happiness, thus, there is a significant desire but some very passive efforts to bring each other down. Related to that, the most compelling parts are the passive-aggressive, novelistic dialogues, which sound pretty natural under the film’s atmosphere, between the three 'intellectuals' (Aydın in Turkish) in the film. "Winter Sleep" also addresses cultural and class conflicts and the lack of communication between these divides, adding a sociological layer to the narrative. Despite the film's general abundance of dialogue, it does not detract from its pacing or engagement. The film's heavy reliance on dialogue necessitates a theatrical experience, which is brilliantly delivered by seasoned actors Haluk Bilginer, Demet Akbağ, and Melisa Sözen. In addition to the spellbinding performances, atmosphere, and art direction enhance the film's impact through visual medium. "Winter Sleep" made a significant impact at the Cannes Film Festival, winning both the FIPRESCI Prize and the Palme d'Or, marking the pinnacle of Ceylan's career.
Ceylan's 2018 film, The Wild Pear Tree (Ahlat Ağacı), begins with the return of a young literature enthusiast named Sinan to his hometown after graduating from university. Sinan dreams of publishing his own book and gaining recognition as a writer. However, the economic difficulties he faced in his hometown and the issues within his family make it challenging to achieve his dreams. Sinan's father, İdris, a teacher, has driven the family into financial and emotional turmoil due to his gambling addiction. Sinan's mother, Asuman, struggles to cope with this situation, which strains her relationship with his son. As he tries to find the money to publish his book, he reevaluates his relationships with old friends and the townspeople. The film deeply explores his internal journey, his conflicted relationship with his father, and his struggle to become a writer. Once again, Ceylan places village life at the forefront of his narrative, with the director focusing heavily on the father-son dynamics. The film concludes with Sinan ultimately reconciling with his father, both in fate and character, ending on a note of despair.
Sinan's journey from conflict and resistance against mediocrity to eventual surrender is portrayed exceptionally well, despite the actor’s performance being somewhat overshadowed by Murat Cemcir who plays his father, İdris. The father-son relationship is masterfully handled, showcasing Sinan's initial rejection of becoming like his father, his rebellion, his gradual understanding, and his eventual acceptance and submission to this reality. While the conflict and its setup are compelling, the depth of the main character at times felt lacking, which I attribute more to the acting than the writing. The screenplay also sometimes feels disjointed not in its themes but in their execution. For example, I found the famous dialogue between Sinan and the writer in the village to be less effective than it could have been, feeling misaligned and overly theatrical within the film's overall flow. Nonetheless, the film's harsh realism is commendable, especially in clearly depicting Sinan's ultimate failure and reinforcing this with an unreal but impactful suicide sequence, which serves as a powerful narrative and thematic decision. Overall, the film effectively captures the struggles of its protagonist against a backdrop of familial and societal pressures, earning its place as a significant work in Ceylan's filmography.
The 2023 film About Dry Grasses (Kuru Otlar Üstüne) tells the story of Samet, a young teacher on mandatory duty in Eastern Anatolia. Samet dreams of being assigned to Istanbul while struggling with the loneliness and despair of his current village life. The film centers on Samet's relationships with his colleagues Kenan and Nuray, and one of his students, Sevim. Nuray enters Samet's life distantly, in fact, Samet wants to make her get together with Kenan at the beginning, but as Samet changes his decision later, his relationship with both of them becomes jeopardized. Meanwhile, Samet also faces a complex emotional bond with Sevim that puts him in an unforeseen situation in his career.
The film, most importantly, boldly breaks two paradigms: Firstly, it shatters the fourth wall, reminding viewers during a tense scene that they are watching a film. Secondly, it challenges the notion that children are symbols of innocence, portraying them as beings who can harbor natural malevolence due to undeveloped moral judgments. This film touches on political subjects in its subtext too, such as the Ankara Central Railway Station Massacre (2015) and the conflict involving young people who become terrorists/guerillas (depending on which side do you look). However, these elements feel somewhat disjointed from the main narrative, seeming more like supporting the conflict between characters rather than integral parts of the story. Thus, this could be seen as the film’s weakest aspect. Despite this, the film excels in portraying the protagonist's dark and disconnected nature from his surroundings through a compelling character and societal portrait, supported by strong performances and well-chosen settings. Although Merve Dizdar won the Best Actress Award at Cannes for this film, I found the lead actor’s (Deniz Celiloğlu) performance far more impressive. The character’s depth and the actor’s portrayal make for a highly engaging and thought-provoking film, despite its heavy dialogue and political subtext. Furthermore, the photography, a recurring influence in Ceylan’s films, is prominently, innovatively and boldly featured, bringing originality to the narrative in this work too.
As can be seen, Nuri Bilge Ceylan's films consistently explore the theme of feeling stuck in the rural Anatolian setting, highlighting individuals who have either failed to achieve their dreams or never dared to dream at all. Through poetic visuals and starkly realistic dialogue, his storytelling captures the essence of these people's lives. His career began with photography, and its influence permeates his filmmaking. Personal nuances from his life, such as his experience in product catalog photography, are evident in films like "Distant", where the financial concerns of making films with limited resources are explored, much like in "Climates". The inclusion of his hometown Yenice, Çanakkale’s rural settings, as well as featuring his family members in some of his films, adds an additional autobiographical layer to his work. While his recent films are often considered long by many, they flow seamlessly for those ready to immerse themselves, with the duration becoming unnoticeable.
Ceylan views the filmmaking process as a journey of learning, researching, discovering, and therapy, which keeps him motivated. His dialogues have become more extended towards the end of his filmography, with a significant emphasis on the seasons, especially winter. The long take durations, meticulously detailed, reflect his photographic background, with precise timing and object placement. Related to this, the collaboration with cinematographer Gökhan Tiryaki, starting with "Climates," has been crucial, as Tiryaki's touch is evident in nearly all of Ceylan's subsequent films. Ceylan's practice of recording rehearsals contributes to his exceptional actor direction, making it hard to distinguish between rehearsals and actual takes, thus enhancing the naturalness of the performances. He is so skilled that he can lead even amateur actors to win international awards, and in the second half of his career, he has been convincing enough to bring popular and experienced actors to their peak. In his earlier films, Ceylan favored classical music, and throughout his entire filmography, near-silent sound mixes, demonstrating his mastery in sound direction too. As a result, his films have consistently been respected at international festivals, solidifying his reputation as a filmmaker of profound depth and artistry.
Mert Konuk
January 2026
----------Warning: This article may contain spoilers!
Michael Haneke, the Austrian director who has won the Academy Award for Best International Feature Film once and the Palme d'Or twice, began the well-known part of his career at the age of 47 with he directed his first feature film. Haneke, whose roots lie in an artistic family, studied philosophy, psychology, and drama at the University of Vienna—fields that have influenced his work. Before embarking on his journey as a feature filmmaker, Haneke worked as an editor, dramaturge, television film director, and critic. Notably, one of his most famous TV films is The Castle (Das Schloß), a 1997 Kafka adaptation. An obsessive reader throughout his life, Haneke's films reflect his profound understanding of communication, which he uses to craft a unique cinematic language. The term Haneke film has come to signify a style that is unsettling, narratively static, yet compelling in its thematic and subtextual intensity.
Haneke's films tackle a broad spectrum of social issues, including migration, miscommunication, perpetual senseless wars, class, race, violence, guilt, and gender. Despite being born in 1942, he has produced some of his most significant work in the later stages of his career, earning critical acclaim and prestigious awards. Influenced a lot by the legendary Robert Bresson, Haneke has always strived to maintain his artistic independence. Throughout his career, his films have featured remarkable acting and quite consistent casting choices, though the spotlight often remains on Haneke's directorial prowess rather than individual performances. Noteworthy exceptions will surely be highlighted, emphasizing the synergy between his vision and the actors' craft. Let's delve into the filmography and distinctive characteristics of a director who is proudly embraced not only by his native Austria but also by German and French cinema.
The Seventh Continent (Der siebente Kontinent) is his debut feature film from 1989. It subjects the alienation and existential crises of modern society through the mundane and monotonous daily life of an Austrian family by using a pretty veiled story. On the surface, this family—comprising a mother, father, and children—appears to lead a perfect life, with their quality of life improving (such as the father's promotion). However, as the film progresses, we gradually feel and finally understand their inner emptiness and unhappiness, particularly through the film's powerful conclusion.The story examines the family's journey to escape their meaningless existence and embark on a new and eternal chapter in their lives, encapsulated by the meticulous and impactful portrayal of their preparation for this irreversible journey, including the dramatic destruction of their home, which both symbolizes and realizes their unlivable life ending in death.
This film, which is the first in Haneke's Glaciation Trilogy, is characterized by its calm exterior and slow pace, yet it harbors intense internal turmoil. The depiction of a collective suicide makes it a bold beginning to Haneke's feature film career and introduces his signature fragmented storytelling style. The film offers a striking spectator experience, making viewers feel closely involved with the family's plight. This immersive quality is undoubtedly one of the elements that make the film not only successful but also unique.
His second feature film, Benny's Video (1992), explores the disturbing obsession of a teenage boy, Benny, with video cameras and violent imagery. The film takes an early dark turn when Benny records himself killing a young girl at his family's home. His parents attempt to cover up the crime, but Benny's cold-blooded murder and the ensuing events offer a profound critique of modern society's relationship with violence. As the second film in Haneke's “Glaciation Trilogy”, it is powerful and compelling, with the narrative revolving around Benny’s parents trying to conceal his crime, only to be betrayed by Benny himself at the end. This serves as a metaphor for the inescapable truth of societal violence, regardless of how much it is denied.
Unlike the first film in the trilogy, "Benny's Video" presents a strong conflict between the boy and his parents, marking a critical turning point in the story. Neglected by his family, 14-year-old Benny spends most of his time watching footage he has shot with his camera, blurring his perception of reality. The situation escalates to the point where crossing the fine line between life and death becomes as simple for him as pressing the play and rewind buttons on a remote control. This film is also the first in Haneke’s repertoire to feature scenes that are not easy to watch, directly unsettling the audience. Unlike his many other works, which critiques the portrayal of news in the media and the state of the world, "Benny's Video" focuses on the protagonist's own media, emphasizing the critique of an alternative, subjective reality disconnected from the real world.
The third and final film of the trilogy from 1994, 71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance (71 Fragmente einer Chronologie des Zufalls), presents the daily lives and challenges of seemingly unrelated individuals through 71 short scenes. These scenes feature various characters, including a university student, a refugee child, a couple seeking to adopt, and a bank employee. The film focuses on the social and personal crises that lead to the unexpected intersection of these individuals' lives, highlighting the alienation and violence in modern society.
The film's unique narrative structure, with sequences that appear disconnected yet are interwoven with black pauses, creates a distinctive storytelling style. Throughout the movie, news broadcasts relay conflicts occurring in different parts of the world, ensuring that the film's message extends beyond its immediate setting and characters, resulting in a powerful narrative. While this film shares themes of societal disconnection with Haneke's first film, it parallels the second film in its depiction of conflict. As the most original film in Haneke's "Glaciation Trilogy," it does not follow a single main character. Despite the fragmented narrative and limited character development, the film is remarkably successful in conveying its themes.
Haneke’s first international sensation Funny Games (1997), is a psychological thriller that tells the story of Anna, Georg, and their son Georgie, a wealthy family on vacation at their summer home. Their peaceful getaway is shattered when they are taken hostage by two young men, Peter and Paul, whom they meet through their neighbors. The intruders force the family to participate in a series of sadistic games, turning their struggle for survival into a horrifying ordeal.
One of the film's most revolutionary and iconic moments is the breaking of the fourth wall followed by the rewind scene. During one particularly brutal game, Anna manages to grab a shotgun and kills Peter. However, Paul finds a remote control and rewinds the film, effectively reversing the events and preventing Peter's death. This technique allows Paul to engage the audience more directly and personally, making viewers feel complicit in his actions when the scene is rewound. Haneke uses this rewind scene also to subvert traditional thriller and horror conventions, such as who lives and who dies, and whether justice is served by the end of the film. The characters delivering the violence also exhibit a comedic demeanor, emphasizing the absurdity and even strengthening horror of the situation. That particular scene boldly declares Haneke's omnipotence as the director, underscoring his control over the narrative which I believe is the strongest aspect of this work.
Haneke's focus on critiquing the European (upper) middle class is also evident once again, particularly in how they handle violence, both as perpetrators and as those insensitively unable (and also incapable) to prevent it. This film led to his first Palme d’Or nomination and laid the groundwork for his later films featuring superstar leads. Despite the film's impeccable tension, Haneke faced criticism for what some viewed as his mistreatment of the audience due to the scenes that include pure violence. Nevertheless, "Funny Games" was a pivotal step in Haneke's international recognition, also leading to the creation of an American version. Arno Frisch’s remarkable performance is noteworthy as well; having first appeared as the main character in "Benny's Video," Frisch delivers an unforgettable performance in this film too.
Code Unknown (Code inconnu: Récit incomplet de divers voyages) (2000), predominantly set in Paris, weaves a narrative where the lives of people from different social classes intersect. The story begins with a young man named Jean throwing a piece of paper in the face of a beggar woman named Maria. This seemingly trivial act sets off a chain of events affecting the lives of various characters. Anne, an actress, faces challenges in her career while her boyfriend Georges works as a war correspondent. Maria, who is an immigrant, is forced to return to Romania after all. Amadou is arrested temporarily by the police while forcing Jean to apologize to Maria, and Anne believes that Amadou attacked Jean without any cause. The film explores the interconnected lives of these characters, highlighting social discrimination and the impact of miscommunication at all levels.
This film marks Juliette Binoche's entry into the Haneke universe and represents Haneke's own introduction to French cinema. Utilizing the fragmented narrative style that has become popular in world cinema, Haneke delivers strong social messages, diving that much deeper into the issue of immigration for the first time. Although set in a new geographical context, Haneke focuses on issues that disturb him, based on both his direct observations and the experiences of the people he encounters. Despite some similarities, unlike "71 Fragments of a Chronology of Chance", this film contains several missing pieces, requiring viewers to actively engage in understanding and internalizing the story. Scenes are abruptly cut and shifted to others, with underlying themes more subtly presented compared to his previous films, which may be more challenging for some viewers.
Haneke’s first film in the 21st century, The Piano Teacher (La Pianiste) (2001) is a psychological drama centers on Erika Kohut, a piano teacher living in Vienna with her oppressive mother. Erika, emotionally and sexually repressed, enters a complex and destructive relationship with her young and talented student, Walter Klemmer. This relationship, which allows her to release suppressed desires, reveals some extreme tendencies and deep psychological issues. Thus, as Walter uncovers Erika's dark desires, their relationship becomes increasingly disturbing and dangerous. The film's atmosphere is incredibly unsettling, with toxic relationships playing a central role. Erika is not young, having stayed at home, and her mother is also old. She even brings the younger Walter home despite her mother's presence, and her sadomasochistic inclinations make their relationship extraordinarily chaotic as well. The film masterfully portrays the transformation of the aforementioned repressed sexuality into a wounding neurosis, with Erika representing the middle class.
This film marks Isabelle Huppert's entry into the Haneke universe, delivering an exceptional performance that explores the fundamental issue of problematic parental relationships. I believe Huppert's performance in this film is the best in all of Haneke's works, leading to her appearance in three more of his films and earning her the Best Actress award at the Cannes Film Festival (with co-star Benoît Magimel winning Best Actor). The film also earned Haneke a Palme d’Or nomination and won the Grand Prix, the second-most prestigious prize at the Cannes Film Festival. Additionally, Haneke's profound interest in music is evident, considering it the art form closest to cinema and the element nearest to heaven. The presence of classical music, especially Schubert, in the film underscores this passion. Thus, the film's setting in the world of music adds an aesthetic dimension to its narrative.
Haneke’s most unusual film, Time of the Wolf (Le Temps du Loup) (2003) tells the story of a family struggling to survive in a post-apocalyptic environment. Anne, Georges, and their children flee the city in search of safety but are confronted by intruders in their summer home, forcing them out. This incident intensifies their survival struggle. The film starkly portrays the darker aspects of human nature and how moral values deteriorate during crises. The narrative unfolds through the challenges the family faces and their interactions with other survivors.
Isabelle Huppert stars in another lead role, delivering a commendable performance. However, compared to Haneke's overall filmography, this might be considered one of his weaker films. The dystopian world he creates is incredibly realistic, but the story and its execution, aiming to convey an evident subtextual message, might not be entirely convincing to viewers. Despite this, the film is worth watching for its atmosphere anyway. Although not successful at the box office, the film's distinctive feature lies in its focus on behavior, setting it apart from typical sci-fi/disaster films. Haneke aimed to depict events as banal as possible, ensuring viewers could relate and not dismiss the events as improbable.
Caché, also known as "Hidden," is a 2005 thriller centered around the life of Georges Laurent, a television host in Paris, and his wife, Anne. One day, the Laurent family starts receiving anonymous video tapes recording the exterior of their home and their daily lives. These tapes reveal dark secrets from Georges' past, plunging the family into increasing fear and paranoia. As they attempt to uncover the source and purpose of the videos, Georges' childhood memories and his relationship with an old friend resurface. The film explores hidden guilt (as well as the efforts to suppress it) and the evolving impact of collective memory over the years.
This is my favorite Haneke film, both for the gripping and mysterious treatment of the main storyline and for how it deftly shifts the focus to the underlying themes of class struggle without disrupting the narrative flow. The casting of the lead couple is superb, with extraordinary performances by Daniel Auteuil (Georges Laurent) and Juliette Binoche (Anne Laurent). The film powerfully addresses issues of immigration and Europe's exploitation of Africa, highlighting both the guilt felt by some Europeans and the indifferent consciences of others. In terms of the accolades, the movie garnered numerous awards at the Cannes Film Festival, including Best Director, solidifying its status as a critical masterpiece. Two scenes from the movie also became extremely well-known, the chicken scene which stems from Haneke’s childhood trauma and the shocking suicide scene that is designed to jolt the audience, both can currently be counted among the symbols of the director’s art.
The following one, Funny Games (US) (2007) is the shot-for-shot remake of Haneke's 1997 film, created for the American audience. Starring Tim Roth and Naomi Watts as middle-class parents, the film closely mirrors the original. Despite its high-profile cast, the remake did not achieve significant success in the market. Given the success, uniqueness, and artistic beauty of the original, discussing the US adaptation here does not seem very necessary in my opinion.
In 2009, Haneke made The White Ribbon (Das weiße Band), a 2009 film, set in a small Protestant village in Germany during 1913-1914, just before World War I. The story revolves around a series of mysterious and violent events that disturb the village's strict social structure and moral values. The village children become involved in a string of brutal and unexplained crimes, shaking the foundations of their community. The narrative is told from the perspective of the village schoolteacher and examines the influence of authority figures like the pastor, doctor, and baron (mostly) on the children.
While many interpret the film as a critique of the origins of fascism or Nazism, the director himself stated during the Cannes Film Festival: "I wanted to show that any ideal is corrupted as soon as you take it to the absolute extreme." The film transcends national or ideological boundaries, illustrating how oppression breeds authoritarianism. Although set in a historical context, the film includes sequences inspired by the director's personal experiences, focusing not on creating a historical film but on highlighting the individual and cumulative societal impacts of these themes over time (until today). The film's narrative style and art direction achieve this flawlessly. "The White Ribbon" also features a notable milestone for a Haneke film as it led to his first Palme d'Or win and garnered his first Academy Awards nomination for Best International Feature Film.
Amour (2012), perhaps his most renowned film, is a poignant drama that tells the touching story of Georges and Anne, an elderly couple living in Paris. Both retired music teachers, they lead their lives with a deep love for each other and for music. However, their lives are irrevocably changed when Anne suffers a stroke. As her condition deteriorates, Georges cares for her with immense patience and love. Throughout this ordeal, Georges faces significant physical and emotional challenges but remains steadfast in his devotion to his wife. In essence, their once livable lives end in suffering which embodies one of Haneke’s greatest fears.
"Amour" is one of the most starkly realistic films about love, aging, and death. The performances by Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva (supported by Isabelle Huppert) are monumental, making it difficult to single out which actor—or character—deserves more praise. Haneke manages to depict an intense love story without any conventional romanticism, causing viewers to feel the depth of emotion so profoundly that it can be dizzying. This ability to evoke discomfort without overtly disturbing elements is a hallmark of Haneke’s work. The film, drawing from Haneke's observations of bitter experiences similar to those portrayed, starts from a deeply personal place. The characters' snobbishness is well portrayed in specific scenes, yet they are also open to communication when necessary, striking a delicate balance.
The movie stands as Haneke’s most recognized work, winning the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival and the Academy Award for Best International Feature Film. The legendary actors, Trintignant and Riva, deliver performances that serve as a glorious highlight in their illustrious, albeit nearing-end, careers.
After “Amour”, Haneke made Happy End (2017), a film that delves into the lives and conflicts of the wealthy Laurent family living in Calais, France. Georges Laurent, the elderly patriarch, is depressed due to dementia and old age and is highly inclined towards suicide. His daughter, Anne Laurent, manages the family business while dealing with her irresponsible and rebellious son, Pierre. Anne's brother, Thomas Laurent, grapples with past mistakes and a new relationship while taking responsibility for his young daughter, Eve. Eve moves in with her father's family due to her mother's severe health issues, which brings hidden conflicts and secrets within the family to the surface at some level.
This film features Haneke's most all-star cast and serves as a continuation of "Amour," so it's beneficial to consider the intersecting characters from the previous film. "Happy End" is intriguing, portraying a wealthy yet incredibly depressed, deceitful, and hypocritical family. The film borders on dark comedy, addressing class differences and harshly criticizing society through everyday events. It also marks Haneke’s first film to include Generation Z to those who are subjected to criticism, but especially, the ending is particularly striking, reinforcing the theme of emotional glaciation as powerfully as in his "Glaciation Trilogy." Relevant to that apathy seen so many times throughout the movie, one symbolic and significant scene involves the two wealthy siblings, separately and unknowingly, warning their Moroccan maid's family that if they’re not careful, the family dog that bit the maid’s daughter could bite them too. They deliver these warnings right after spending only a few seconds with the girl and also almost near her.
While "Happy End" is a strong sequel, it feels as if Haneke has grown weary of humanity, tired of warning and displaying its flaws, and this sentiment is palpable in the film. Despite its important messages, the story and emotional depth might feel somewhat lacking. The film’s title, of course, is deeply ironic, highlighting the disparity between the characters' outward affluence and their inner turmoil.
If one had to summarize Haneke’s work in a single phrase, it would be brutal realism. He is practically the father of this concept, mercilessly critiquing human nature and the privileged Western society that shares the continent with him. Many find his work pessimistic, and rightly so; he does not claim a bright future but rather calls humanity and society to face themselves. His stories, often bleak and unresolved, end without much optimism. Valuing his message so highly, he intentionally includes plot holes in many of his films as well. Though he has never been a box office titan, his style and works have certainly left a mark on film history.
Haneke is truly an extraordinary artist if art is about concretizing emotions and thoughts through specific means. Without presenting anything as commonly displayed in popular cinema, he evokes powerful emotions, making his films intense experiences. And despite the intense discomfort of his films, their aesthetic weight keeps you glued to your seat. He plays with audience expectations, presenting violence in the most primal form without dramatization, even often off-screen, which does not diminish its impact at all. His film endings leave you curious, but he places even more importance on the audience internalizing the processes and messages within. Additionally, as one of the emotion-delivery channels, Haneke's approach to music, is fragmented, interrupted, and often punctuated by silence or noise, paralleling his thematic obsessions with alienation, fragmentation, and numbness. Classical music frequently appears in his films as it is one of his passions, often featuring music teacher characters, relevant to his focus on the European middle class.
While reaching to the end for this article, it is important to emphasize that he believes in the responsibility carried in his work and messages, refusing to treat sensitive subjects as entertainment. This dedication leads him to create films that totally stand against the mainstream, drawing attention to fundamental issues rather than offering unrealistic solutions. Describing himself as “not unhappy”, he enjoys the paradoxical satisfaction within melancholy as a life principle. Fears and anxieties reflect on the screen, which he sees as a blessing, further solidifying his status as an auteur. He also believes that the more extreme the experiences you portray, the more genuine they need to be. Thus, it is clear that his vast range of experiences and observations deeply influenced his priceless work.
Mert Konuk
May 2025
---------- This review may contain spoilers!
In this article, I will discuss Gaspar Noé, who is often seen as a contributor of the New French Extremity (a variety of provocative transgressive films produced around the turn of the 21st century stirred controversy and generated substantial debate as well as discussion) movement, but goes beyond that and, actually stands as a unique auteur in his own right, in a league with legendary French cinema figures such as Godard, Resnais, Rohmer, Truffaut, Bresson, and Varda. Born in 1963 in Buenos Aires, the Argentine-born director’s background is quite significant, particularly due to his father, painter, writer, and intellectual Luis Felipe Noé. Additionally, (Gaspar) Noé also has collaborated with his spouse Lucile Hadžihalilović on multiple film projects. He operated the camera and functioned as cinematographer for two short films directed by her, while she produced and edited his early short film “Carne” and his first feature film “Seul contre tous (I Stand Alone)”and continued to contribute with “Enter the Void”, and so on. Despite the argument that his close circle facilitated his entry and progress in the art world, his works, except “Irréversible (Irreversible)”, have not been particularly successful at the box office. So why is he still such an important director? This article will explore his distinctive characteristics and delve into each of his feature films in detail.
Noé addresses subjects that can be considered taboo or dark, such as violence, sexuality, morality, drugs, incest, rape, and death. These are mostly the core elements of life but are generally and quite naturally connected to the darker side of humanity. His films, therefore, appeal to a very small portion of the general audience but have an impact that extends far beyond this. "I want to make movies out of blood, sperm, and tears," he says in his film "Love," summarizing his approach. However, he is much more than that. Deeply embedded in France’s underground culture, nightlife, and drugs play a significant role in his life, to the point of obsession. Well, it is actually quite rare to find a good director who isn't obsessively attached to something as their creative signatures are often formed by those and Gaspar Noé is one of those who can translate his obsessions onto the screen effectively. He is incredibly consistent and determined, ignoring the reactions and conveying his message uncensored, pushing boundaries as he pleases. He is a man who says, "I want to make a film about X" and does precisely that. The disturbing nature of his films stems from presenting events with all their realism, without resorting to moralizing in a populist way or pandering to mainstream sentiments. This means that, while it might appear that his work aligns with the interests of the mainstream industry, in certain reality, it surely does not. His distinct thought process and worldview are evident, and it’s easy to assert that he has a unique cinematic language, full of provocative images that challenge the audience's experience.
Gaspar Noé's 1998 film Seul contre tous (I Stand Alone) marks his first feature-length project, evolving the story from his earlier short film Carne, which also won an award at the Cannes Film Festival. Noé maintained the core cast from Carne and expanded the narrative. The film tells the story of a butcher, who, after mistaking menstrual blood on his daughter's dress for evidence of rape, stabs the man he believes responsible, resulting in his imprisonment and the subsequent need to sell his shop. Now released, he attempts to start over, with his daughter in an institution and his new partner pregnant. His sole focus is to reopen his shop, rebuild his life and fight against the world.
The film stars Philippe Nahon and is considered Noé's most normal work, reflecting fewer of his later characteristics, especially in terms of visuals. The scenes are more static compared to his subsequent films, indicating an innovative effort within classic cinema, and motivating viewers to focus on the story and its messages. The protagonist, portrayed by Nahon, is a reflection of societal ills: a lower-class, racist, homophobic, misogynistic, and obsessively sexual man. The character embodies the negative aspects of male societal norms and critiques issues like unemployment and nationalism of the time. The butcher's incestuous desire for his daughter also is a recurring theme, culminating in the film's shocking finale. Thus, it can be said that Noé uses the butcher to question the foundations of masculinity and, in a broader perspective, to critique the average Frenchman. "I Stand Alone" seems like it is designed as a Dostoyevskian dark comedy, but the pain and turmoil within the character’s mind deeply engage the viewer. The protagonist's sparse dialogue is offset by a continuous inner monologue, exposing his unfiltered thoughts, which keeps the film gripping and enables a striking beginning for Noé’s feature-length career.
Then, Gaspar Noé’s paths crossed with Vincent Cassel and Monica Bellucci as he initially couldn't get the script for "Love" accepted by them. However, their desire to work with Noé led them to accept a new script he prepared, resulting in the creation of the sensational, controversial, and most likely the most popular (and successful in terms of box office) film, Irréversible (Irreversible) (2002). The film begins by showing the aftermath of the character from "I Stand Alone" and then shifts to its main characters. The story, told in reverse chronological order, is a tale of love and revenge. It follows the aftermath of a woman’s rape and her boyfriend and ex-boyfriend’s search for the rapist, unfolding from end to beginning.The subject is incredibly simple, even cliché, but the film received intense backlash, even among the French audience, who are accustomed to daring cinema, particularly due to its graphic scenes, including a 10-minute long single-shot rape scene and a face-smashing with a fire extinguisher. These scenes, especially at the Cannes Film Festival, caused a significant uproar.
The film's revolutionary reverse narrative structure intentionally disrupts the viewer’s ability to connect with the story and prevents the comfort of a linear progression, drawing more attention to the themes and also technique. Additionally, having star actors surely contributed to Noé's international recognition. With this film, Noé began to break away from classical storytelling, exploring new narrative approaches.The cinematography, which literally and figuratively breaks boundaries, and the use of red and flickering lights foreshadow the psychedelic color palettes in his future films. The soundtrack by Thomas Bangalter, featuring memorable dance tracks in the nightclub and later (or actually earlier) sequences, is unforgettable. In 2019, Noé even submitted a linear cut version of the film to the Venice Film Festival, which was shown in countries such as France, Germany, Russia, and Japan, offering a different perspective where everything is more evident. However, I prefer not to comment beyond the original version.
The next film, Enter the Void (2009), is a project Noé wanted to make early on but was delayed due to budget constraints. It narrates a day in the life and the subsequent death of the main character, Oscar, in Tokyo, offering viewers a visual feast illuminated by the city's bright lights. Additionally, it aims to take the audience on a spiritual journey by depicting the experiences of the protagonist, a drug addict, both through its narrative and visual style. Though it might seem like a typical drug trip film, it stands out in many ways. The film is told from a first-person viewpoint, with the protagonist only visible in a scene where he looks in a mirror. After his death, the narrative shifts to a more bird's-eye perspective, following the protagonist's floating spirit, providing a unique viewing experience.
Noé wrote the film during a period when he was highly interested in astral projection and religions, particularly their views on the afterlife. He chose to shoot the film in Japan due to his deep admiration for its culture, arts, and especially its cinema. The story, art direction, and colors could be discussed extensively, but what sets this work apart from the rest of Noé's filmography is its originality as a cinematic experience, which he describes as a psychedelic melodrama. The camera technique immerses the viewer in the protagonist's psyche, blinking along with him, achieved through a visually stunning use of colors that resemble a music video aesthetic. Until "Enter the Void," the elements Noé wanted to portray in cinema—"blood, sperm, and tears"—were more content-driven. By 2009, with "Enter the Void," Noé's aesthetic began to assert itself most strongly through various camera techniques, art direction and visual styles.
Gaspar Noé's next film, Love (2015), is notable for its unsimulated sex scenes, making it quite pornographic by cinema standards despite not being particularly unconventional in France. The film follows Murphy, an American film student living in Paris, who secretly continues seeing Omi after including her to a no-strings-attached threesome with his girlfriend, Electra. When Omi becomes pregnant and decides to keep the child due to her anti-abortion stance, Electra leaves Murphy, later leading to Murphy and Omi raising the child together with an emotional purgatory. The film can be seen as highly personal, with many references to Noé himself. While the depiction of sexuality is striking, the portrayal of love is even more profound and impactful. The film explores jealousy, a harsh companion of love, and the inescapable path to becoming a family, capturing the feeling of being trapped.
Examining Gaspar Noé’s filmography reveals that he critiques the crises of contemporary society, focusing on existential struggles, psychological collapse, alienation, and exhaustion. In "Love," he approaches these themes through the simplest storyline in his filmography, stating, "I show you what is yours as if it were not." While the film includes artistic pornography, it is so deeply embedded with emotions that it is more likely to leave you filled with emotional disappointment rather than lust by the end. Murphy's desperation, lostness, and entrapment reflect the hunger and fragile nature of youth. Noé views the film as erotic rather than pornographic, comparing the frequent and explicit portrayal of the male genitalia to the necessity of a gun in a Western film. Additionally, it's worth noting that the film was released in 3D, aiming to make the viewer's sexual experience more liberating by breaking the barrier with other viewers through the use of glasses.
My favorite film of the director as the one I found the most enjoyable, aesthetically enriching, yet incredibly tense, is Climax (2018). The film is set in 1996 and follows a dance group from various parts of the world as they rehearse their choreography in an abandoned rural school. During the after-party celebrating the successful end of their rehearsals, they drink sangria without knowing it is laced with LSD, leading to catastrophic chaos. They neither know who spiked the drink nor why, unfolding a "bad trip" that reveals the deepest, darkest aspects of their psyche. The film is loosely based on a true story, but the adaptation is seamless without any exaggeration or pseudo-fantastic elements. As in many group dynamics, individuals harbor hidden tendencies and fantasies of expressing their true emotions (e.g., lust, violence, jealousy), the film successfully portrays the realization and consequences of these tendencies. It would also be remiss not to mention the large French flag behind the dance floor when discussing the film, as it is possible to infer that the film is actually and essentially a representation, depiction, and critique of the country. Very multicultural yet sociologically tense, where prejudices remain fixed, and hatred begets hatred, the film's single setting is presented as an isolated one, with the snowy exterior indicating that there is no escape from this situation.
"Climax'' features a lot of improvisation, with the cast consisting almost entirely of dancers that Noé evidently put significant effort into finding the best. The LSD trip sequences are inspired by sources like YouTube, and the choreographies are, in general, stunning. Most of the cast was found online and through dance battles, with the exception of Sofia Boutella, who has both professional dance and acting careers. The film was shot chronologically in just 15 days, giving the illusion of one continuous shot. The production and set designs of the film are exceptionally well-handled, utilizing a single large location with various sub-areas, such as a large hall and several corridors and rooms, reminiscent of but smaller than Kubrick’s 'The Shining.' This compact and controlled setting ensures continuity and greatly enhances the thriller aspect of the film. As expected from its premise, the film showcases excellent art direction and an extraordinary soundtrack including Thomas Bangalter, again. Notably, the opening credits appear mid-film, just before the chaos ensues, effectively saying, "Welcome to the madness, take your seats."
Gaspar Noé’s 2019 film Lux Æterna is arguably his most experimental work. The film by making the audience feel like a space for improvisation was given to Charlotte Gainsbourg and Béatrice Dalle, focusing on the production process of a film called "God's Craft" and simultaneously depicting the experiences, conflicts, and clashes the two lead actresses had during the shoot. While the premise is intriguing, the film’s distinctive feature is not its plot. "Lux Æterna" heavily employs epileptic imagery through gray and color strobe lights, as well as split-screen techniques, which Noé also uses in his subsequent work, and thus, due to its experimental nature, I prefer not to be overly critical. The viewing experience is challenging, primarily for technical aforementioned reasons, but remains as a unique one nevertheless. The narrative behind the scenes is deliberately chosen by the director, and combined with stellar performances, it serves as an exposé and commentary on the industry. Moreover, Noé pays homage to legends like Luis Buñuel, Carl Theodor Dreyer, and Rainer Werner Fassbinder by including their quotations, showing his respect for these influential filmmakers. Surely not his best work, but still leaves a strong mark.
Now, it is the turn of Gaspar Noé's latest film, Vortex (2021), dedicated to all those who lose their minds before their hearts. Starring Françoise Lebrun and Dario Argento, the film invites us into the home of an elderly couple, witnessing the vortex they are drawn into as one of them suffers from dementia. Set in a Paris apartment, the film focuses on the couple living out their final days among the remnants of their shared years and allows many viewers to find traumatic pieces from their own lives. Instead of themes like love, revenge, or pornography, Noé tackles the more helpless period of old age, where everything has been lived and is slowly fading away. The film continues Noé's overarching theme of confrontation, effectively depicting the merciless and incurable nature of aging, the undeniable reality of death, and the unbearable agony of the brain dying before everything else.
Throughout the film, tension and discomfort are maintained above a certain standard by raising questions such as whether the spouse with dementia will wander off, take the wrong medication, or be given the wrong medication by her partner on purpose, or leave the gas stove on. The emotional impact is strong, but technically, the film is equally impressive. The use of split-screen is particularly well-executed, with no sequences that disrupt the flow and allows viewers to follow both main characters simultaneously without continuity or spatial errors. Even when they occasionally appear in the same frame, the split-screen still continues, which I found to be a bold and impressive choice.
Gaspar Noé's stories are often very minimal, but his unique narrative style is his trademark. Despite the significant gaps between his films, as his comments suggest, the writing process is not overly lengthy. Contrary to what many might think, the ideas for his films are usually quite simple and straightforward, not stemming from overly artistic or complex backgrounds. It is the way he processes and presents these ideas that sets him apart. If we consider that what separates art from straightforward storytelling is the manner of expression, Noé's originality in narrative style has propelled him to the pinnacle of art, through paths that are not as easy as they might seem.
Noé is not only innovative in his narrative but also in his editing techniques. Including unconventional credits that start at the end or in the middle of the film, his approach feels fresh and original. He reuses scenes and sequences in a way that makes them seem new, showcasing his open-mindedness and boundary-pushing creativity which are perhaps also among the many reasons I respect him the most. In cinematography, Noé has also developed a distinctive style. He often portrays his grotesque themes through both visuals and script, gaining momentum and reflecting the fundamentals of cinema without relying on the most creative scripts. Each film surpasses the previous in terms of art direction, encompassing not just technical aspects but also the form: colors, textures, music, and flow are so well integrated that even with a simple plot, he manages to shake the audience. Elevating the cinematic experience is something that only a handful of directors worldwide can achieve and his films are worth watching multiple times for various reasons, but still, the striking and unique impact is best experienced on the first viewing.
Noé places significant importance on interacting with the audience as well, drawing inspiration from Godard. In Godard's films, intertitles, plain sentences, characters and questions disrupt the dramatic structure and storyline, enhancing audience engagement. Noé follows this strategy, maintaining his unique creativity in communicating with viewers. To conclude this extensive praise-based article, I'll end with a quote from the director (in 2021): “One year-and-a-half ago, I had a brain hemorrhage and almost died. I survived it miraculously without having any brain damage.” Well, I genuinely believe that, similar to him, us cinema lovers were also incredibly lucky and blessed because of that!
Mert Konuk
February 2025
---------- This review may contain spoilers!
Il Cinema Italiano has produced many phenomenal directors throughout the history, especially since the Italian Neorealist era, these directors have reached wide audiences both in Europe and beyond. Rossellini, De Sica, Antonioni, Fellini, Argento, Bertolucci, Pasolini, Tornatore, Moretti... and for the recent period, Paolo Sorrentino, who is subjected in this very article. With visually stylish and intense art direction, postmodern storytelling inspired by life itself, dynamic and striking camera use, magnificent use of music, short choreographies reminiscent of music videos, the harmony of beauty and absurdity in his scenes, and picturesque landscape choices, let us get to know this man and his cinema, from which art flows from his veins, more closely.
Born in Naples in 1970, Sorrentino, as one might guess from his place and year of birth, spent his youth years like most of the city's inhabitants, watching and idolizing the legendary Argentine football player Diego Armando Maradona. So much so that when he won the Best Foreign Language Film award at the Academy Awards in 2014 for “La grande bellezza (The Great Beauty)”, Maradona was among those he thanked during his speech. His work in series and films also bears the mark of Maradona and his team, showing his deep admiration. Most importantly, he plays a crucial role at a turning point in Sorrentino’s life. While young Paolo, at the age of 16, a fanatical supporter of his local team, SSC Napoli, went to watch them in a game during a time when Maradona was the superstar of the team, both his parents were poisoned in their bed by carbon monoxide fumes from a faulty heater and passed away. Thus, he does not hesitate to say “Maradona saved my life” while defining that tragedy that made him grow up much earlier than he should have. Afterwards, he chose to embrace a parallel reality to overcome the indescribable pain brought on by the tragedy, and his cinema journey began, inspired by Sergio Leone, Martin Scorsese, Bernardo Bertolucci, Michelangelo Antonioni, Giuseppe Tornatore, and perhaps most of all, Federico Fellini, along with his homie Massimo Troisi.
Actively involved in the writing process of his feature films and TV series, Sorrentino's first full-length film, L'uomo in più (One Man Up), made in 2001, stars Toni Servillo, who would become the actor most frequently cast in leading roles by the director and even accompanied him on stage at the aforementioned Academy Awards. The film, belonging to the comedy-drama genre, tells the story of two men with completely different lives, yet sharing the same name and a similar fate, one a singer and the other a footballer. It is also notable as his first film to be honored with a growing number of national and international nominations and awards.
The film that significantly elevated Sorrentino in the eyes of critics and audiences was his second film, made in 2004, the crime-drama Le conseguenze dell'amore (The Consequences of Love). It narrates the story through the interactions of the extremely cold, mysterious, and reticent main character, Titta Di Girolamo (Toni Servillo), who finds himself in service to the mafia and also develops a relationship with a waitress at the hotel where he stays. The contribution and impact of the film’s geographical setting (Lugano, Switzerland) to the story from an art direction perspective, the meticulously prepared lonely main character with his background and dialogues, and the innovative and artistic filming tricks (like the famous 180 degrees camera flip), indicate that this film is the first to feature the distinctive qualities we will encounter frequently in the director's later works, in such a strong and successful manner. Therefore, it's possible to say that one of the strongest works in his filmography was accomplished at the very beginning of his career.
Following that, in 2006, Sorrentino directed L'amico di famiglia (The Family Friend), which tells the story through a socially-awkward character who develops an obsession with the young bride-to-be daughter of a family he lends money to, embracing the absurdity he loves to include in his cinema. Then, in 2008, he made the controversial biopic Il Divo, subjects Giulio Andreotti, a figure who was elected prime minister of Italy multiple times and whose career was marred by numerous allegations. Reuniting with Servillo for this film, Sorrentino won the Jury Prize at the Cannes Film Festival.
Sorrentino's first purely international film was This Must Be The Place (2011), working with Hollywood actors like Sean Penn and Frances McDormand. This film follows the journey of a retired rock star, who, without compromising his gothic style, seeks to complete the unfinished story of his father, with whom he hadn't spoken for years, following his death. This journey rekindles his excitement for pursuing the meaning he has long been missing. While the film might not have brought him the international recognition he desired, his next film, which is a modern classic, would secure his place in Italian, European, and world cinema, even beginning comparisons with Fellini.
In addition to many awards in his country and Europe, the 2013 film La grande bellezza (The Great Beauty) also won the Academy Award for Best International Feature Film and the Golden Globe Award for Best Foreign Language Film. The film delves into the life of 65-year-old Jep Gambardella, who, after receiving the news of the death of his first and perhaps only love—who was also his youthful love—faces life anew. Jep, unable to continue his writing career due to a creative block since decades, has become a sought-after figure in journalism and an art critic within high society. This masterpiece is not just a melancholic journey through (post-)middle age; it also hosts one of the best party scenes in cinema history, features the magnificent city of Rome as a splendid supporting character, pays a postmodern tribute to Fellini, and includes surprising mise-en-scènes, a wide range of striking music choices, impressive dialogues, a truly visually stylish direction, and hosts one of Toni Servillo, Sorrentino's favorite actor's, best performance. Death and related themes, as in many of the director's previous and subsequent films, represent the breaking point of the story and script in this film, much like in his own life.
Following his participation in the 2014 Brazilian anthology Rio, Eu Te Amo (Rio, I Love You), where 10 directors from various nationalities each directed a short story, Sorrentino's next major international work came with the 2015 film La giovinezza (Youth). In this work, which carries many of the characteristics of his cinema, Sorrentino collaborated with Michael Caine, Harvey Keitel, Rachel Weisz, Jane Fonda, and Paul Dano. The film confronts various opposites such as death and life, youth and wisdom, past experiences and future possibilities, productivity and satiation, through the story of two elderly friends -one a retired composer and conductor, the other a film director- spending a luxury resort vacation together in the Swiss Alps. Just like its main characters, the film mentally and emotionally provokes the viewer, delving into themes of youth and the past, as well as the future and old age. In this aspect, it boasts strong imagery, dialogue, and distinct sequences. However, some might say the film falls short in terms of having a cohesive and strong narrative; it feels somewhat disjointed, especially by the end. Thus, it is a very beautiful work, but still, it gives the impression that it added numerous thought-provoking and artistically inspiring sequences it found, yet forgot to connect them all.
In 2016, Sorrentino directed The Young Pope, a series co-produced by Sky Atlantic, HBO, and Canal+. The show features the fictional story of the first American Pope, Pius XIII, and his rise to leadership within the Vatican. The cast includes international stars such as Jude Law, Silvio Orlando, Diane Keaton, and James Cromwell. Watching the series, it becomes apparent that Sorrentino, as a non-believer, takes a critical and bold perspective on religion and its clergy's influence and controversial aspects on society. Yet, it's interestingly anecdotal that he still finds the Catholic Church inspiring from a theatrical standpoint. Thus, the series' strongest aspect is undoubtedly its unapologetic satire - even showcasing the Pope's God dilemma - along with its art direction. The series, released under different names for its different seasons, saw its follow-up season shot three years later.
Before moving to the second season of the series, in the intervening years, Sorrentino directed Loro in 2018. This film, another of Sorrentino's political biopics, this time delves into a segment of the life of Silvio Berlusconi, one of the most famous as well as sensational politicians and businessmen in modern Italian and European history. Berlusconi, portrayed by Toni Servillo, has been accused throughout his life of being corrupt and hedonistic, yet remains immensely popular among certain segments of the populace. In this work, Berlusconi is subjected to an intentionally grotesque biography, securing the film a unique place due to its originality, which serves to strongly imprint the director's critical points in the viewer's mind. However, despite its success in cinematography and art direction, the film’s overemphasis on its unique style and artistic qualities may have led to a loss of narrative momentum.
In 2019, Sorrentino directed the second season of the international series titled The New Pope. This season retained most of the cast from the first season, with John Malkovich joining as the lead role and delivering a remarkable performance. Additionally, Cecile de France, who was also part of the first season, played a prominent role. Following the coma of the character Pius XIII, the series explores the chaos within the Church, power struggles, and the extraordinary ascension of the British Pope John Paul III, portrayed by Malkovich. It delves into the dynamics between the Church and the state and culminates in the chaotic process following Pius XIII's awakening from the coma. Visually and audibly, this series is just as fulfilling as its prequel. Despite potential gaps in the storyline, it successfully distinguishes itself from the shadow of its predecessor. Furthermore, it delves into the clash between human emotions, logic, and dogmatic connections through its main character, adding depth and complexity to the thematic exploration.
In 2021, Sorrentino also directed his most personal film to date, one that perhaps exposes his joys, traumas, passions, and motivations the most, but consequently and interestingly, struggles the most to achieve script and narrative coherence: È stata la mano di Dio (The Hand of God). Set in 1980s Naples, the film revolves around the main character Fabietto, who can be seen as Sorrentino’s alter ego, and his core and extended family, loss of the parents, passion for SSC Napoli and Maradona, and journey to cinema, struggle to establish sexual, romantic -and therefore healthy- relationships with the opposite gender while growing up... all portrayed with a unique narrative style and appropriate absurdities. Making a film that centers around a critical period of growing up too early in life cannot be easy, but considering both this circumstance and his previous works, the drawbacks of this film can be easily tolerated. In fact, a part of me still believes the movie can be fully saved through a revised cut.
In conclusion, Sorrentino isn't a director who created his own school of filmmaking like Fellini, but he is a director who has made his style accepted in world cinema. Just think about how much his latest Italian-language film was promoted by Netflix, going even beyond his English-language works! I believe his style generally encompasses loyalty and consistency, evident in his preference for Toni Servillo in lead roles, collaborating with cinematographer Luca Bigazzi, the melancholic atmosphere in his characters, and the impact of the film's setting on its atmosphere. Taking all of this into consideration, especially when viewers watch his films with an open mind ready to empathize with the main character and embark on an artistic journey, the experience is definitely one that leaves a lasting impression, both emotionally and mentally!
Mert Konuk
January 2025