A moving and brilliant film from Turkey with an amazing title that assumes a meaning by the end of it, this one opens with a melodious and melancholic tune that tugs at your heart. The camera slowly reveals to us a watermelon shop, its owner and the helper who is a young painter. And thus starts the poetic tale of our protagonist who is an aspiring filmmaker and a hopeless romantic. We follow Recep, the young lad, as he finds his first crush and battles against insurmountable odds to build a camera that can move images. Recep's passion for Cinema drives him on his quest to find out everything about the camera and his love for the ravishing beauty, Boncuk Yilmaz, keeps him busy in his daydreams. Life moves on, things happen, and the climax is tragic and heartbreaking - but the last few moments are reassuring and full of promises about the journey ahead. But what carries the film into the realms of greatness is the way it is made. Visually gorgeous, the film is soothing on the eyes, with the village, the town, the plains in between, everything shot in a vibrant tone. The architecture of the town becomes a part of the narrative, as does other inanimate things because Ulucay's careful usage of props is charming and quirky, and extremely smart. Any cinephile is bound to fall in love with this film, as it is a true tribute to the process of film-making - the camera building sequences are extremely well-done and made me fall in love with Cinema all over again. In a place and age where films were still considered taboo, the director captures the first effects of moving images on the village children, an old man and a local madman to great effect, yes, a tad melodramatic, but affecting nonetheless. Daily life is given a touch of magic with the beautiful characters and this is, I repeat, a heartfelt love letter to the great medium called Cinema.
Review of Karpuz Kabugundan Gemiler Yapmak
