05 · 18 · 18

The Poetics of Nuri Bilge Ceylan

Alonso Díaz de la Vega @diazdelavega1

La de Nuri Bilge Ceylan es una filmografía breve pero consistente. Desde 1997 no pasan más de cuatro años sin que el director turco estrene una nueva película o sin que ella represente una nueva búsqueda en el lenguaje cinematográfico. Heredero de Andrei Tarkovsky y Antón Chéjov —uno el gran cineasta de Rusia; el otro su gran dramaturgo—, Ceylan es una de las voces fundamentales del panorama contemporáneo. Su cine es una silenciosa reconstrucción de la monotonía que busca la maravilla cotidiana y los diversos significados del sosiego. Incluso sus películas más intensas se desarrollan más en los ratos muertos que en las explosiones de los gritos y la violencia pero la quietud no significa la paz sino la tensión de una cuerda que está por romperse.

Even though Ceylan dedicated Clouds of May to Chekhov, it wouldn’t be until Winter Sleep (2014) that he’d decide to adapt his work and create a film unlike any other he’d made. This is all the more noticeable if we consider that his former feature, Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (2011), had deconstructed police procedurals and rebuilt the genre with some of its remains. The result was a story where the most trivial things reveal the deepest ones and the main mystery is set aside in favor of contemplation. Contrary to this film, the action in Winter Sleep never stops and the dialogue is imbued with the signification that only could a major playwright might achieve. It’s an unexpected but brilliantly executed formal turn that criticizes bourgeois artists overwhelmed by abstractions as poverty devours the most vulnerable members of society. Thematically, at least, it seems to be the testament of one of the greatest filmmakers of our time. Aesthetically? In the future, his last film will tell.