Time Out at 40

Nuri Bilge Ceylan | Elif Şafak | Sezen Aksu

Nuri Bilge Ceylan
Nuri Bilge Ceylan is undoubtedly one of the most daring and distinctive filmmakers working today. His first two features – 'The Small Town' and 'Clouds in May' – impressed, but it was 'Uzak' ('Distant') that really caught the world’s imagination winning both the Grand Prix and Best Actor prizes in Cannes in 2003. His witty and wise follow up 'Climates' was Time Out’s screening at the London Film Festival in 2006 while ‘Three Monkeys’ saw him scoop the best director gong at this year’s Cannes.

What most inspires you? Personal experiences, stories you’ve heard or seen, or perhaps just Istanbul itself?
No, Istanbul isn’t one of them. Perhaps those other things you just mentioned, but I’ve never thought ‘this is a nice place, let’s film here’. First I think about the plot and the story, and then I try and find a place that’s logistically and practically most suitable for telling that story.

You were to surprised to win the award for best director at Cannes this year. Did you think ‘Three Monkeys’ (‘Üç Maymun’) might not appeal to the Cannes jury?
I thought that a jury with Sean Penn would naturally opt for more political films. Besides I generally tend to rein in any expectations I might have as to my own success.

Although you’ve worked with relatively unknown amateur actors in your previous films, ‘Three Monkeys’ features professiınal actors like Hatice Aslan and Yavuz Bingöl. Why the change?
A desire for something different, a bit of coincidence, and also because of the nature of the film script.
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Are you one of those directors who can never watch their film once it’s finished? If you do watch your old films, do you find new things in them, or things you wish you could change?
I won’t say I never watch my own films, but it’s true that I don’t watch them much. Recently I was in Sarajevo where I taught a masterclass and we watched a part of ‘Clouds of May’. It was the scene where the child was talking to the old man with the typewriter. It was years since I’d seen it, and it felt really strange. I saw that I did some things in that film that I would never do today.

You once said ‘I leave in the first five minutes of a film if I don’t like it, and I prefer people to do the same with my films’. How can you decide how good a film is in the first five minutes?
I think the nature and quality of a film becomes obvious right in the first few scenes. Nevertheless, I guess it would be more logical to say the first 15 minutes rather than the first five. For me, it’s better that those who don’t like my film leave the theater rather than sit there sighing and moaning and spreading negative energy to those around them.

Every artist has a turning point, something that brings them into the international spotlight. What do you think yours was?
If there ever was such a turning point for me, it would be the Cannes Film Festival in 2003 where I participated with my film 'Uzak' ('Distant').

Until now you’ve only written scripts about situations you can relate to such as rural life in ‘Clouds of May’, or the alienation of city life in ‘Uzak’. Do you think that this approach constrains you at all?
For somebody who is interested in exploring every twist and every facet of their own soul, no subject matter is too distant or too constraining. But ‘Three Monkeys’ is different from my previous films. It’s more impersonal and removed. This is a path i'm considering exploring in the future.

Do fame and awards create undue pressure to live up to your own standards? How do you keep focused and avoid artistic compromise when expectations are so high?
I’m no longer stressed about that kind of stuff, but I can’t say that I don’t sometimes miss the nervous tension, excitement and passion of the early days when I lacked the self-confidence I have now and feared things I no longer fear anymore. The stress eventually fades and so does the excitement. But I like to think that the excitement is taking different forms rather than fading away, or so I like to tell myself.

Istanbul features as kind of a character in itself in your films. The images of the city are truly spectacular, although they’re generally sad and melancholy. What does Istanbul mean to you?
Istanbul is still the only place I’d like to live in the world. But it has more to do with the memories and habits I associate with this city than the actual beauty of the city. As for the melancholy and sad nature of the city in my films, that more of an outward reflection of the inner world of my characters – and of course, of my own inner world.

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Nuri Bilge Ceylan | Elif Şafak | Sezen Aksu