"Head On," which won the Golden Bear at the Berlin Film Festival, is heady, provocative material.
Cahit Tomruk (Birol Ünel) is a forty-something punk rocker who lives in a haze of alcohol and drugs. He earns his living picking up post-concert beer bottles in a Hamburg club.
Sibel Güner (Sibel Kekilli) is a twenty-one year old high school dropout whose attitude toward life is best summed up by the Cyndi Lauper hit, "Girls Just Want to Have Fun." Never mind that Sibel tries to kill herself; what she wants is "to live."
Both Cahit and Sibel are Germans of Turkish descent who meet in the psych ward after separate failed suicide attempts. Not necessarily the ingredients for your standard love story, but "Head On," which takes its title in part from the way these two dive into their baser desires, is surprisingly romantic.
The premise that drives the plot is the sham of a marriage that Sibel coaxes Cahit to agree to in order to garner her freedom from the oppressive restrictions of her traditional Muslim family. They will be "like roommates," she promises Cahit. In return for his vows, she will stay out of his way and keep his apartment clean.
Cahit consents. Introductions are made, Cahit is approved by Sibel's family, and the union, however questionable, is given their blessings. The wedding comes off well enough, with both Cahit and Sibel seeming to revel in the culture that fundamentally binds them. No matter that neither one of them wants to honor those roots.
It's no surprise, but things immediately begin to disintegrate.
Cahit continues to see Maren (Catrin Striebeck), the hairstylist he occasionally beds, as Sibel engages in casual sex with a series of men whose only value to her is the experience she can obtain from them. It's painfully obvious that these two deceivers cannot live up to the pretense, but they are woefully unaware that their actions have consequences.
The stage is set for a collision of life-shattering proportions as their individual and bound lives careen further and more hopelessly out of control. The suspense is not in wondering if an accident is waiting to happen, but rather when, and how.
In this regard, "Head On," with its Greek-like chorus that periodically reminds us that a tragedy of epic proportions is unfolding, does not disappoint. Writer/director Faith Akin ("Im Juli," "Solino") has crafted a film that is not unlike a freeway disaster: despite the wreckage, it's impossible to turn away.
The compelling nature of the film is made more so by its two key performers. As Cahit, Ünel possesses a Mick Jagger-like presence, if a somewhat more dissipated version of that rock legend. He is an aging man who refuses to acknowledge his maturity, a child who does not recognize boundaries and who is given to violent public temper tantrums.
Kekilli's Sibel is at once refreshing and repellent, a wild child of insatiable lusts in a sensuous woman's body. The actress's history as a porn star is not wasted here. This is a physical role, and Kekilli is clearly comfortable in her body, whether clothed or disrobed.
Together, they create a tension that, given their characters' circumstances, hits all the beats. Despite the sense that these two troubled people are riding a runaway train to destruction, there are moments of tenderness between them, as when Sibel prepares a Turkish meal, or cuts Cahit's hair. Such moments hint at the possibility of domestication that leave us wanting more, even though they are woven into a tapestry of tangled events.
"Head On" (more literally, "Against the Wall") presents these events against a background of complexities that include the difficulties immigrants face in retaining their culture in a foreign country. In this case, it's the Turkish people who have come to Germany for work who are at issue. Akin, who is a German of Turkish descent, fleshes out the story line with subtle references to these social problems. He lets you know they exist, but he doesn't push your face in them.
Instead, he focuses on Cahit and Sibel, on whether or not they can change their world instead of changing the world, as a psychiatrist in an early scene suggests.
As the final refrain of the chorus tells us, "Over there on the mountain a beacon is burning." It is a beacon of love, even for misfits.
Cahit Tomruk (Birol Ünel) is a forty-something punk rocker who lives in a haze of alcohol and drugs. He earns his living picking up post-concert beer bottles in a Hamburg club.
Sibel Güner (Sibel Kekilli) is a twenty-one year old high school dropout whose attitude toward life is best summed up by the Cyndi Lauper hit, "Girls Just Want to Have Fun." Never mind that Sibel tries to kill herself; what she wants is "to live."
Both Cahit and Sibel are Germans of Turkish descent who meet in the psych ward after separate failed suicide attempts. Not necessarily the ingredients for your standard love story, but "Head On," which takes its title in part from the way these two dive into their baser desires, is surprisingly romantic.
The premise that drives the plot is the sham of a marriage that Sibel coaxes Cahit to agree to in order to garner her freedom from the oppressive restrictions of her traditional Muslim family. They will be "like roommates," she promises Cahit. In return for his vows, she will stay out of his way and keep his apartment clean.
Cahit consents. Introductions are made, Cahit is approved by Sibel's family, and the union, however questionable, is given their blessings. The wedding comes off well enough, with both Cahit and Sibel seeming to revel in the culture that fundamentally binds them. No matter that neither one of them wants to honor those roots.
It's no surprise, but things immediately begin to disintegrate.
Cahit continues to see Maren (Catrin Striebeck), the hairstylist he occasionally beds, as Sibel engages in casual sex with a series of men whose only value to her is the experience she can obtain from them. It's painfully obvious that these two deceivers cannot live up to the pretense, but they are woefully unaware that their actions have consequences.
The stage is set for a collision of life-shattering proportions as their individual and bound lives careen further and more hopelessly out of control. The suspense is not in wondering if an accident is waiting to happen, but rather when, and how.
In this regard, "Head On," with its Greek-like chorus that periodically reminds us that a tragedy of epic proportions is unfolding, does not disappoint. Writer/director Faith Akin ("Im Juli," "Solino") has crafted a film that is not unlike a freeway disaster: despite the wreckage, it's impossible to turn away.
The compelling nature of the film is made more so by its two key performers. As Cahit, Ünel possesses a Mick Jagger-like presence, if a somewhat more dissipated version of that rock legend. He is an aging man who refuses to acknowledge his maturity, a child who does not recognize boundaries and who is given to violent public temper tantrums.
Kekilli's Sibel is at once refreshing and repellent, a wild child of insatiable lusts in a sensuous woman's body. The actress's history as a porn star is not wasted here. This is a physical role, and Kekilli is clearly comfortable in her body, whether clothed or disrobed.
Together, they create a tension that, given their characters' circumstances, hits all the beats. Despite the sense that these two troubled people are riding a runaway train to destruction, there are moments of tenderness between them, as when Sibel prepares a Turkish meal, or cuts Cahit's hair. Such moments hint at the possibility of domestication that leave us wanting more, even though they are woven into a tapestry of tangled events.
"Head On" (more literally, "Against the Wall") presents these events against a background of complexities that include the difficulties immigrants face in retaining their culture in a foreign country. In this case, it's the Turkish people who have come to Germany for work who are at issue. Akin, who is a German of Turkish descent, fleshes out the story line with subtle references to these social problems. He lets you know they exist, but he doesn't push your face in them.
Instead, he focuses on Cahit and Sibel, on whether or not they can change their world instead of changing the world, as a psychiatrist in an early scene suggests.
As the final refrain of the chorus tells us, "Over there on the mountain a beacon is burning." It is a beacon of love, even for misfits.