The Edge of Heaven
Directed by Fatih Akin
at Film Forum
May 21-June 3
The promise of a film whose seemingly disparate characters reach an emotional climax through a series of intersecting storylines rarely delivers the expected cathartic circus. Like any other gimmick, the shaggy-dog trick often becomes enamored of itself, to the detriment of the actual stories. In The Edge of Heaven, director Fatih Akin is so dedicated to his six main characters that we almost forget we’re being pulled back and forth between them like so many less impressive films of the same genre.
The film begins in Bremen, where a widowed Turkish immigrant offers to pay a Turkish prostitute to live with him. His son Nejat is disgusted with the arrangement at first—he’s visibly eager to leave Turkey behind—but warms up to her when she tells him all her money goes towards her estranged daughter Ayten’s university education. Nejat makes it his mission to find her daughter, and eventually moves to Istanbul to look for her. The focus then shifts to Ayten, a political activist who flees Istanbul and arrives in Bremen looking for her mother. She’s taken in by a student named Lotte; shortly after the two fall in love, Ayten is arrested and sent to prison. Lotte goes to Turkey to help her, and meets Nejat along the way; eventually Lotte’s mother comes to Istanbul as well, closing up the cycle of parents and children running from each other.
The strength of each character’s convictions and point of view keeps these intersecting stories from the usual lock step. With sharp features and a fiery presence, Nurgul Yesilçay’s Ayten is a perfect complement to the soft, blond Lotte (Patricia Ziolkowska), who looks like Heidi of the Swiss Alps as a twentysomething lesbian.
Akin captures his characters’ movements, both physical and emotional, with poetic fluidity. The film flow back and forth between hope and dread like the Black Sea lapping at the Turkish shore, where Nejat sits silently in the film’s haunting final shot.
Directed by Fatih Akin
at Film Forum
May 21-June 3
The promise of a film whose seemingly disparate characters reach an emotional climax through a series of intersecting storylines rarely delivers the expected cathartic circus. Like any other gimmick, the shaggy-dog trick often becomes enamored of itself, to the detriment of the actual stories. In The Edge of Heaven, director Fatih Akin is so dedicated to his six main characters that we almost forget we’re being pulled back and forth between them like so many less impressive films of the same genre.
The film begins in Bremen, where a widowed Turkish immigrant offers to pay a Turkish prostitute to live with him. His son Nejat is disgusted with the arrangement at first—he’s visibly eager to leave Turkey behind—but warms up to her when she tells him all her money goes towards her estranged daughter Ayten’s university education. Nejat makes it his mission to find her daughter, and eventually moves to Istanbul to look for her. The focus then shifts to Ayten, a political activist who flees Istanbul and arrives in Bremen looking for her mother. She’s taken in by a student named Lotte; shortly after the two fall in love, Ayten is arrested and sent to prison. Lotte goes to Turkey to help her, and meets Nejat along the way; eventually Lotte’s mother comes to Istanbul as well, closing up the cycle of parents and children running from each other.
The strength of each character’s convictions and point of view keeps these intersecting stories from the usual lock step. With sharp features and a fiery presence, Nurgul Yesilçay’s Ayten is a perfect complement to the soft, blond Lotte (Patricia Ziolkowska), who looks like Heidi of the Swiss Alps as a twentysomething lesbian.
Akin captures his characters’ movements, both physical and emotional, with poetic fluidity. The film flow back and forth between hope and dread like the Black Sea lapping at the Turkish shore, where Nejat sits silently in the film’s haunting final shot.
