The Edge of Heaven
Directed by: Fatih Akin
Review by Roberto Azula
It’s a bit of a cliché to compare a film so full of fully realized characters and shifting timelines to the works of Robert Altman. So, I’ll refrain from describing The Edge of Heaven as “Altmanesque”, for that pseudo-adjective does not do justice to this fantastic, heartbreaking film. I can only marvel at how skillfully the film portrays random events as missed opportunities and simple bad luck, rather than cinematic contrivances. The sharp humanism of this film continues to make you second-guess the characters; there are no good guys or bad guys, only working stiffs and retirees trying to make sense of this merciless world. The Edge of Heaven is a lyrical dirge to two exhausted, befuddled nations: Germany and Turkey. As one culture struggles with tolerance as the other culture struggles with freedom of speech, innocent and not-so innocent bystanders pay the price of rigid mentalities.
The film opens with a seedy episode of a Turkish retiree Ali (Tuncel Kurtiz) in Germany trying to hire a no spring chicken herself prostitute Yeter (Nursel Kose) as a full time live-in lover. He falls for her not for her beauty (her face is more manly than Ray Liotta’s) nor her personality (sour and bitter), but the fact that she’s Turkish, too. Ali is not having sex so much with Yeter but with his own misplaced nostalgia. From there, the film discards any preconceptions we may have brought into the theater. You really do not know the final tally until the credits roll.
Several subtle scenes hit me really hard. The old man’s son, a German language professor (a soulful, restrained Baki Davrak), discovers Yeter is supporting a daughter. He asks her why she is supporting her daughter through prostitution. Yeter replies simply, “I want her to be like you.” I found this calculated, but still full of love, pragmatism to be particularly wrenching, especially as we explore where a good education has led her daughter. Another great scene involves two women being hauled off for political crimes to the applause of their neighbors. As the women shouted out their names so someone would know they were about to disappear, I could feel the horror, anger, and shame my own country has filled me with these past eight years.
The torrid affair between Yeter’s daughter Nurgul (Ayten Ozturk) and German student Charlotte (Patrycia Ziolkowska) deftly bypasses the clichés that usually saddle portrayals of cross-cultural and lesbian affairs, and instead delves into what passion and sacrifice mean. The fact that both Charlotte and her mother are both intrepid backpackers makes the story all the more tragic.
I was really affected by this film’s unsparing observations of the bad places where good intentions can lead. You cannot just assume that because you’re a good person, you will lead a good life and make good decisions, even if your decisions are more or less morally sound. Making the right decision is not about making things better for yourself, but rather it is the art of wrestling with cruel random events and staying true to your passions. The Edge of Heaven is an eloquent expression of this absurd struggle, and is a contender for the best film of the Seattle International Film Festival.