The Old Boy And The Young Man.
Bilge Ceylan’s making of a book is as meticulous as it can get, throbbing arguments that never crosses the line to be a preaching-to-the-choir tone, this drama is more horror than it claims to be. And similar to the summary of the plot- a son returns hometown after graduation and gets sucked into the sleazy schemes of his gambling father- the first act of the film can arguably considered as a bluff. And the journey of surprising us in each steps after the first act, that it promises to deliver us consistently, has its own cathartic release. But mind you, this game is played subconsciously with us, while the real drama on the screen comes like Rosefeldt’s Manifesto- of course without sounding like a pretentious robotic monologue.
I would consider this as writers major win among all the others. The writers always had in mind to go deep into hardcore debates of world politics, life changing inspirations and seduce-like negative emotions that grows like cancer as one ages. And their procedure is pure bravura of work, initiating from one of my favorite meetings of our protagonist with his somewhat-like-an-old-lover, the film deals with the social issues that is justified and well crafted out in narration since there was a ticking clock behind them.
Cut to another nail-biting argument with an established writer, breaking the wall of celebrity and fan equation, the heating conversation is used as the primary weapon to start initiating on fabricating the other side of our lead character; this is the turning point of the film. Followed by another major discussion of probably everything, among his friends, the writers calls it a day on the preaching note as the viewers are left both cheated and challenged at the brisk of their seat.
While our so called hero struggles with the rest of the world like such, along with the nagging of his father’s debt collectors, there is an entirely different game played in his house. But frankly, I would pity the actor to even show up on screen to share it with Cemcir, not only for his brilliant performance but the power that the character he plays has on the film. That three dimensional persona never fails to amaze us, from his half crooked smile to his ideologies, his character is peeled off layer by layer.
And clearly the makers were most euphoric about him, the way other characters speak about his great deeds and how he is so devoted to his work (in the final act, when his son comes to visit him, he still is keeping an eye on his students) despite of being flawed, just makes him more and more rich. There is a lot to listen and lot to ponder about, but as it was intended, the equation of a father and a son will melt you down in the end and to pull off that scene after implementing the fact that Demirkol leaves him without any help lying on the ground, has got to be the biggest development of the film. The Wild Pear Tree is every bit of wild as it has right to be.