«The Wild Pear Tree»

Cinema Wednesdays - Loris S. Musumeci

A strange experience. It even provokes a certain unease. A fairly normal reaction for a film d'auteur. The wild pear tree. For this is an authentic auteur film, and not the least. However, it doesn't connect with every viewer. Is Nuri Bilge Ceylan's latest feature film really that bad? Is it inaccessible? Does the excessive arrogance of Sinan, the main protagonist who wants to become a writer, and of the film itself, veil a masterpiece? Or is the arrogance, on the contrary, a reflection of a false great director who has made a false great film?

In any case, The wild pear tree is of genuine interest in its own right. Its philosophical tone seriously—yet not without a touch of irony—examines the relationship between a young person and his family, and more specifically between a son and his father. In doing so, it also explores the relationship that develops between a man and his homeland, between a man and the land and the animals that inhabit it. The cinematography, for its part, draws its power from the desolate sadness of the landscapes, in the tear-inducing gray skies of Anatolia, and in the all-too-human ugliness of people who dress poorly, neglect their appearance, and appear banally miserable on screen.

These strengths of the film also have their limitations. The cinematography employs techniques that, while certainly original, feel rather heavy-handed. The 360-degree rotation of the camera around Sinan seems intended to speak for itself—or to prove something. Nevertheless, the weariness caused by a verbose and drawn-out screenplay, as well as the sense of detachmenta story that feels too distant prevent the viewer from grasping the meaning of this technique, as well as that of the cross-fade in the storefront scene at the beginning or the halos of light filtering through the leaves of a tree.

Moreover, the screenplay in question, though seemingly polished and well-crafted, does a poor job of hiding its banality—a disappointing banality, a grotesque banality. Yes, Sinan yells into the phone with his militiaman friend, joking about oppression, and this friend goes even further—with the speakerphone blaring in the middle of the city—by mocking the «leftists» and other proud admirers of Erdogan. The character’s discussion with two young imams is already being hailed as a cult cinema scene; yet, what comes of it? «If you start reforming religion, you’ll open the door to all manner of human fantasies.» Well, these imams don’t seem very smart. «Religion prevents people from accessing their own truth.» And as for Sinan, he’s not exactly any more profound; it’s basic relativism spouted by a teen If it's lively, it's a success.

Nevertheless, Ceylan’s artistic approach is commendable and deserves to be treated with respect, if only for the director’s courage in Turkey and his phenomenal international reputation. Moreover, discovering the works of such a director means discovering in vivo a part of film history. The film’s concept is therefore commendable, and yet heartbreaking—at the very least in the eyes of a viewer who has likely never been able to taste the precious fruit of the Wild pear tree.

Write to the author : loris.musumeci@leregardlibre.com

Photo credit: © trigon-film