Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.
– Oscar Wilde
Long before his 2014 Palme d’Or, Nuri Bilge Ceylan was already a savvy puppeteer of interhuman intricacies. And nothing shows it better than a teeny tiny peanut falling on the floor in his 2006 film İklimler (Climates)
In stale shades of brown and yellow and familiar flesh, edible props unleash a subtle menagerie of silent demons, as a man whose life has lost both control and passion rummages through said life’s trash bin in search for some last scraps of any of the two. Does he find any? Are we supposed to dislike this man for what he is doing? Are we supposed to “empathize” and feel sorry for him?
Does it even matter?
I guess sometimes it’s not the grand outbursts of on-screen emotion that drill into your soul and make you lie awake at 3 a.m. examining and overanalyzing everything as you wonder how the hell did your life get where it is, but the small, seemingly meaningless details – you know, the kind of stuff when, were it a cheap sitcom on tv, you’d take the chance to check your phone for any new emails. Just as much as sometimes it’s not gravity that makes peanuts fall on the floor, but raw, calculated mastery.