As Eyüp gets paroled, Hacer still rages after Servet, to the point of stalking him, while the indolent Ismail grows more and more resentful of his mother, and watches his father slowly come to realize that something is now amiss in the clan. One of the few points that could have lifted the film out of soap opera territory and into Ingmar Bergman realms (for these characters are requisite Bergmanian archetypes) is the revelation of a fourth family member, Ismail’s brother (Gürkan Aydin), who died, likely of drowning (for the child is perpetually wet), as a tot. We see images of the child (oddly like the Kubrickian Starchild of 2001: A Space Odyssey) haunt Ismail and Eyüp, while Hacer, the mother, oddly, seems to never think of her baby. The why could have led to a real sense of drama: did she suffer from postpartum depression and drown the boy? Was it an accident? But this thread is raised, tantalizingly, only to be discarded.
As a symbol, the dead child works, but in the overall arc of the film, it seems a cheap ploy (the dead child’s grip on his sleeping father is the only moment of physical warmth in the film, and it’s not real) to excuse bad characterizations of the three family members; as if the viewer needs to fill in the blanks. This would be fine if the characters revealed were empathy worthy. They are not, so their memories of the dead boy come off as self-pitying wallow rather than a real reason to explain their actions. In short, as limited a critical tool as T.S. Eliot’s objective correlative has been over the decades, this is an instance where its dictum rings true, and Three Monkeys’ failure to pass that bar is an obvious flaw. As such, it is emblematic of the pros and cons of this film - such great potential, and only good, solid realization, at best. It’s the sort of film that, the more you think of it, despite its visual razzle-dazzle, the less it sticks with you.
The film ends with Eyüp finding out of his wife’s affair when (soap opera alert!) he picks up Hacer’s cell phone only to hear his boss’s voice on the other end; he then hangs up when he asks who it is (ugh!). Hacer threatens but not follow through on suicide, then Ismail kills Servet, only to have the now wealthier Eyüp try to get him off by bribing an even poorer man he knew, Bayram (Cafer Köse), into going to jail for his son, just as he went to jail for Servet. (Apparently Turkey has no death penalty, and a quite wonderful penal system for the ease with which others are willing to be imprisoned for money is odd.) The overall mechanics of the last ten minutes are so predictable, in a third rate Dynasty sort of way, that even the visually and existentially wonderful last few moments of the film, with Eyüp on his balcony looking out at the Sea of Marmara as a thunderstorm rolls in, cannot save it.
Article comments
1 - Wassim Diab
Dan, really superb review... as usual.
phrases like: ".... They [characters] become more like specimens under a scientific test than characters humans can empathize with as one of our own..." are irreplaceable.
It's interesting how you mentioned Chekhov, Ceylan mentions Chekhov is "always present in his mind when writing a script" (in his interview on Distant DVD). He also admits that writing is the most agonizing part of movie making for him. Obviously that's obviously also his weakest side as a multi-talented artist. I really don't know what he was thinking when he finalized this script and definitely an audio commentary by him would have helped.
A great point you bring: it's not that he won the best director's prize, it's about why he didn't win the best movie's one.
Overall I think only time could prove if Climates or Three Monkeys were the exception to the rule. I tend to think that Climates was a logical progression, especially watching Clouds of May and Distant.