Head On

2004

3/5 Stars

The German language title for Fatih Akin’s 2004 film is “Gegen die Wand”, which translates literally to “against the wall.” I suppose they changed the English title to “Head On” in an effort to emphasize the visceral reaction to watching a violent car crash.

The film received tremendous critical praise upon its release- so much in fact that the back cover of the DVD is overflowing with positive reviews from a wide range of reliable sources and contains little in the way of describing what the film is actually about. A sentence or two reveal that the film revolves around a love story and involves questions of Turkish heritage and tradition in Western society (or something like this).

With this limited knowledge going in, I was shocked by the unapologetic and brutal film that followed. Framed within a Turkish love song, the story revolves around the evolution of the relationship between Cahit (played by Birol Uenel) and Sibel (played by Sibel Kekilli).

In short, both are of Turkish origin and living in Germany. Sibel wants to experience life fully- unrestricted by the conservative traditions of her Turkish parents. Cahit is a lost soul, devastated by the death of his wife. The two meet in a psych ward after both have failed suicide attempts.

Sibel devises a plan for the two to marry – not out of love or any desire to be with Cahit, but in an effort to get her out from under her parents’ roof (and the chance to have sex with lots of men around town). Cahit eventually comes around to the idea- in spite of a rocky “first date” with Sibel- and the “sham marriage” begins.

I won’t give much more away in terms of plot, but I will note that both characters are deeply flawed and have serious psychological problems. The movie portrays an underworld of drug and alcohol abuse that is realistic and unsentimental. This style carries over to the more brutal elements of the film—depictions of murder, suicide, rape, and physical assault- are horrific in their stark realism. In the violent flashes throughout the film, there is no music or slow motion. There are no dramatic speeches given by dying characters. The camera never pans away in the face of the violence (nor glorifies it). Akin goes the opposite direction in fact- he will keep the shot unedited and the camera static both during and after the traumatic violence.

There is also beauty in the film, however. In spite of these shocking flashes of violence, there are also depictions of love and happiness. One sequence involving Sibel at a carnival is particularly memorable (these bits ARE set to music). There are also moments of dark humor scattered throughout the piece- the sequence in which Cahit seeks the approval of Sibel’s parents to get married (with a friend posing as his uncle) is one such moment.

The acting, especially from the two main leads, is phenomenal. In spite of the fact that I did not particularly like either character (he is a bum and she is fucking psycho), I could not deny that the performances by Uenel and Kekilli were indeed outstanding- one can easily forget that these are actors and not actually real people.

The larger commentary that the film provides on the contradictions and difficulties confronting Turkish culture and the East/West divide is also of value. The scene in which Sibel’s brother and his friends openly discuss their experiences with prostitutes and then become enraged by Cahit’s “disrespectful” question as to why they don’t “fuck their wives” - drives home these points effectively.

In the end though, this powerful film left me broken, traumatized and exhausted. It was difficult to finish watching the film, and when the end eventually came (several slashed wrists later), I didn’t really care much what the point of it all was. Spending what felt like a very long 2 and a half hours with such damaged characters left me feeling damaged myself- as the Turkish song that frames the movie wound to a close (with the dramatic line: “I am eternally sad…”) I realized that I didn’t really care why anymore and was eager to move on with my life.

Big Fish

2003

5/5 Stars

Tim Burton’s adaptation of Daniel Wallace’s novel tells the life story of Edward Bloom, a charismatic southerner with a penchant for storytelling. Set mostly in Alabama, the American South plays a major role in the film. There is some irony here as the two stars that portray Bloom- Ewan McGregor as a young man and Albert Finney as an older one- are not even American (Scottish and English, respectively).

This does not matter much, however, as both performances are excellent. Fortunately for the audience, most all of the performances in the film are done very well. The women in the movie are memorable. Jessica Lange and the ever impressive Marion Cotillard play the loving wives to Edward and his son Will. They portray their characters as strong, graceful women, but their different approaches reflect their completely different backgrounds (Lange’s Sandra is born and raised in the American South while Cotillard’s Josephine is a world travelling Frenchwoman). Other notable performances come from Helena Bonham Carter (a Burton favorite), Steve Buscemi (as a failed poet), and Loudon Wainwright (as a creepy but benevolent mayor of a small town).

The main plot deals with a son on a quest to find who is father is. This is accomplished through fantasy vignettes and stories that flesh out “Edward Bloom”. Tim Burton’s distinctive style is well suited to tell these larger-than-life tall tales. These pieces can often be funny, but what makes them memorable are the morals and life-lessons to take away from them. Like all good stories and fairytales, these are the themes that resonate and matter. While the stories themselves are often fantastical, Burton never gets overly preachy or ham-handed in his presentation of the morals behind them. In simultaneously telling the (less fantastical) story of Edward’s present “reality” through the eyes of straight-laced Will, Burton gives the audience a fuller picture of who this character is.

By the film’s finale, the audience comes to realize how much they have come to care about these people. The results are emotionally powerful - particularly for anyone who has loved or been close to a gifted storyteller. There is a great deal of wisdom in the stories told here, but most central is the idea that the love you give and the relationships you have are what matter most in the end.