Films Here is my filmography presented in an unofficial and non-chronological manner that is accompanied by my thoughts flowing freely on each of my cinematic pursuits. 2020s A Hero of Our Time 2023, Turkey, 120 min A Hero of Our Time (2023) is my debut feature that took eight years to complete, from the first idea to the final edit. It was shot in Pazar, Rize, a small town surrounded by the Black Sea and endless tea plantations in northeastern Turkey, home to me and the Laz People, an indigenous ethnic group of the Caucasus. The film draws inspiration from Lermontov‘s namesake novel, specifically his main character, Pechorin, and more precisely, Lermontov’s brilliant mention of him in the book’s preface: A portrait built up of all our generation’s vices. And my own central character, Mert, likewise reflects a negative generational portrait in contemporary Turkey. He is a mirror of a generation that is oddly averse to taking responsibility. And, of course, his reflection is a pretty brutal look at both myself and the rest of my generation whom I once considered heroes of our time: A misled tribe that was deceived by the myths of personal development and stuck in the spaces between their envisioned world and the one they inhabit. Interactive Storytelling This film features 32 static scenes, each captured in a single take. And these scenes aren’t just about what’s on-screen, they’re windows into the unseen world, where actions flow just beyond the frames which are largely guided by the auditory of the film, co-designed with the sound designer, Cenker Kokten. So, I invite the audience to construct a world in their mind and connect the dots to form characters into a story. I’ve experimented with this technique in my short films to adopt interactive storytelling. And now, I’m thrilled to unveil its refined version in this full-length feature. You can also think of this film as a painting collection. But there might be missing pieces, hidden narratives, or events that aren’t what they appear to be. So I’ve curated a collection of moments that intrigued me, but I don’t expect the audience to embrace it wholly. I don’t demand an emotional transaction or identification with characters. Instead, I provide some canvases and invite the audience to be part of the creative team. Even if one thinks that I made a judgment on a character or event, it has to be our collaborative act. So I address my film(s) to creative individuals who are potentially my collaborators. And, let me mention my absolute collaborators in creating this story: Mert Yasar, with whom I developed the characters when the idea first arose, and Emre Halisdemir who made critical contributions to the storyline from the shootings to the last day of editing. Visuals As you can notice from the stills, my cinematography diverges from the drama of high-contrast cinematic visuals. I prefer a flatter visual palette, where shadows and highlights cozy up, and the deep focus allocates equal attention to all corners of the frame. Think of it as genre paintings, especially those from the 17th-century Dutch era, such as the works of Jan Steen. You might also spot some visual resemblances with the artistic flavors of Roy Andersson. I must mention the colorist, Burak Turan, whose skills are perfectly in line with my style: Posters We collaborated with illustrator Isin Fidan to create the poster image that features our hero in the exact replication of Anthony van Dyck‘s Charles Louis, the King of Bohemia, with slight alterations. The image also bears a resemblance to Lermontov’s iconic portrait which is a popular choice for his book cover designs. Rather than just a reflection of the film, I wanted the poster to become a narrative device, specifically a red herring: a subtle diversion for the audience that leads them to unexpected and intriguing interpretations. So the idea was to observe him not just as he appears in the film but also to capture how he might envision himself, perhaps as a 17th-century king, so that it could add an extra layer to the film. Actually, I intended to use the original piece as a reference for a unique approach. However, I realized my admiration lay not in the appearance of a 17th-century king but in Van Dyck’s remarkable style, which leads us to imitate this grandmaster. I don’t know what Isin feels about it, but I embrace that guilt with pride. You can gain access to the high-resolution versions of the posters on our Patreon page. Trailer Where can I watch the film? The film is set for theatrical release in four cities (Rize, Trabzon, Izmir, and Istanbul) in Turkey on May 3, 2024. Find the trailer for the Turkish Theatrical Release here. Tickets: CINEGALAXY | RIZE CINEGALAXY | TRABZON SINEVIZYON | IZMIR CANPARK | ISTANBUL CINEATLAS | ISTANBUL You can also check out the screening calendar. Following that, the film will probably be available on our Patreon page. Screenings 10th October 2023, Antalya Golden Orange Film Festival, Antalya, Turkey: The scheduled screening got canceled, just like the whole festival itself, all thanks to the political turbulence in my country and a herd mentality (solidarity they say) among filmmakers. 9th December 2023, Bosphorus Film Festival, Istanbul, Turkey: The screening took place at the historical Atlas 1948 cinema. From a technical standpoint, I was highly satisfied. Attendance was low, approximately half of the theatre was unoccupied. But the audience showed great enthusiasm. There were even a few film enthusiasts who had seen my previous films and closely followed my works. The festival was well organized. We won the Best First Film Award in the competition. 24th March 2024, Sinematek/Sinema Evi, Istanbul, Turkey: The screening was at Sinematek/Sinema Evi, a special place that embodies the cinematheque culture that you may encounter around the world. Despite its small size, the theater has good quality. As usual, the attendance was low, but, this screening housed remarkable figures of Turkish Cinema, including Nuri Bilge Ceylan. Following the screening, we engaged in a lengthy conversation, and their feedback was unrealistically positive and sincere. You can watch the English-subtitled Q&A session here. (I’d like to extend my sincere apologies in advance to those who might take issue with the gendered language I used. You know, I always have difficulties aligning myself with the current trends.) Festival Circuit As the festival circuit period comes to a close, I want to share a little note. I’m often asked why the film isn’t featured more widely in film festivals. “Did you submit to Festival X?” Yes, we’ve submitted to most festivals, and some programmers even contacted us personally to watch and evaluate the film. Yet, the outcome is consistent: rejection or silence. Of course, festivals are not the only measure of a film’s merit, many are just promotional platforms that prioritize trendy topics. Nonetheless, it is still a clear disappointment in my case, and as a student of Marcus Aurelius, I welcome not only success but also failure. So, here’s a list of film festivals that rejected my film: Berlin, Cannes, Locarno, Venice, Toronto, San Sebastian, Busan, Tokyo, MedFilm, 3 Continents, Manheim, Kathmandu, Rotterdam, Sundance, Vilnius, Sofia, Fribourg, Trento, IndieLisboa, Seattle, Tribeca, Karlovy Vary, Sarajevo, Bergamo, Turkey / Germany, Jeonju Set Photo People standing, from left to right: Melike Kal, Okan Kal, Kadir Vatandas, Ahmet Canbaz, Selahattin Cerrah, Evrim Cervatoglu, Ahmet Mutlu, Dursunali Oral, Emrah Gulsen, Mustafa Kandemir, Emre Halisdemir, Hayrettin Halisdemir, Gokhan Baris, Ebru Terzi, Mirac Atabey People sitting, from left to right: Osman Zafer Demircelik, Yilmaz Atabey Credits The list of people that I collaborated with: Emre Halisdemir, Mert Yasar, Gokhan Baris, Yilmaz Atabey, Ugur Telatar, Emrah Gulsen, Mustafa Kandemir, Elvan Canakoglu, Evrim Cervatoglu, Ahmet Mutlu, Berat Efe Pullu, Nurhan Halisdemir, Hatice Demircioglu, Tugba Guven Kurt, Cemil Kutsal Biber, Erkan Ataman, Kemal Erman, Nurettin Kadioglu, Emine Kadioglu, Mert Naiboglu, Emrah Birben, Danis Sezgin, Okan Kal, Melike Kal, Ebru Terzi, Ali Eren Guven, Burak Turan, Utku Urlu, Cenker Kokten, Alper Ozsen, Ali Oren, Okan Kal, Isin Fidan, Melissa Lara Clissold You can find details regarding their roles on our production company’s website. Contributions: Antalya International Film Forum Script Development and Project Design Workshop, San Sebastian Film Festival Work in Progress Europa Selection. Financial supports: Ministry of Culture and Tourism in Turkey Scriptwriting and Production Fund, Malatya International Film Platform Script Development Award, Meeting Point – Vilnius Lithuania Work in Progress Award, MedFilm International Film Festival Work in Progress Award. Private funders: Hasan Kadioglu, Dogan Akaroglu, Ali Yasar Kahya, Suleyman Kesimal, Akin Kemal Memisoglu, Turan Karahan, Neset Cakir, Nurettin Ince, Adem Kanber, Leyla Veyisoglu, Yahya Terzi, Zeki Kaboglu, Pazar Ticaret ve Sanayi Odasi, Pazar Ziraat Odasi, 53-8 Cay Ekiciler Kooperatifi, Pazar 4 No’lu Motorlu Tasiyicilar Kooperatifi, Selale Restoran, Ozben AVM, Yaylaci Ticaret Patreon supporters: Canan Pehlivanoglu, Halil Ibrahim Karaca, Kaveh Vares, Maxwell McIntosh, Rezan Ugurlu, Ezgi Coskun, Serkan Yellice, Oguz Tarhan, Elena Kuznetsova, Mei Ling Li, Cemal Aksu, Luka Vidmar, Gabor Nagy, Amira Zayed, Can Ertan, Ercole Caruso (Once the picture was locked, we couldn’t include all the supporters in the film credits. So, I have specified the rest of them here. If you still don’t spot your name, that means you’ll be in upcoming projects.) + Our $10,000 in-kind post-production award got lost in translation somewhere in Kyiv: I did not want to make a statement about this issue due to the tragic war in Ukraine, but I find myself compelled to mention it here to avoid any potential misunderstandings. We won this in-kind award at the Boat Meeting Co-Production Market in Ukraine. And we contacted the sponsor company, Star Media, to use it. We asked for color correction, but they said that they could only provide a studio, not a colorist. Next, we went for Foley, and they confirmed it (btw dealing with them was like waiting for a snail that could send a single reply to e-mails every two weeks). After two months, we were all set for the Foley recording, but they said that they couldn’t do it. Their excuse: They have recording facilities for TV projects, not for cinema. In fact, the Foley recording doesn’t change according to project type that much. They differ at the mixing stage. Anyway, whether it is true or not, it would have been better to know that upfront, but no. And this whole slow-paced e-mail traffic messed with our timeline. They even absurdly offered: We can help you with your next project. To me, it’s like ordering disappointments beforehand. So, we gave it up. I reached out to festival managers regarding this issue but they remained silent. Even I reported it to FIAPF, but they said they couldn’t do a thing. Now, due to this conflict with a Ukrainian organization (ironically, the sponsor company is from Russia), I can observe that there is skepticism over our project from European festivals that declared unconditional support for Ukraine. Sure, I’m worried about the war, but that doesn’t change the fact that the Molodist Film Festival, or Boat Meeting, or rather the sponsor company, defrauded us. All that messed up our financial plan and post-production schedule. And the war wasn’t even on the horizon when all this happened. So, it appears to be a challenge to deal with those festivals that demand a high level of political correctness on certain issues from filmmakers. Some even can’t bear to hear of Lermontov‘s name, simply because he is from Russia. You know, in the old days, there were religious figures who condemned people as sinners, and today, it is likely to encounter their equivalents, especially in the world of art and culture. (They give you such a piece of paper as an award, but when it is time to deliver the service, you are treated like a dog given a bone. Many of these are just advertising campaigns for festivals and companies. Even if you can use their services, they might deliver subpar work and then discard you.) Further Reading Other posts where I mention A Hero of Our Time (2023): Our Old Friends Jukebox for My Films We Are All Re-mixers Separation in the Film Theatre How I Met My Kindred Spirit 2010s Permutations 2016, Portugal, 24 min In 2016, as I approached the final stretch of my master’s degree in documentary filmmaking at the University of Lusofna in Portugal, I found myself adrift in a sea of uncertainty regarding my graduation project. Back then, I believed that cinema should stand alone as pure audiovisual art, with notions like subject, theme, dramatic structure, conflict, and characters seen as intruding viruses from other disciplines. Therefore, I committed to a certain audiovisual form and style while neglecting all else. I aimed to capture painting-like static shots similar to Roy Andersson‘s. But I wanted to infuse real-life locations and real people instead of the studio backdrop he chose. My goal wasn’t to replicate reality but to paint an artistic aura onto the actual world around me. So, I wanted to convert my daily surroundings into my artistic medium. And I started the work without any predefined concepts. I let the subject and its themes organically emerge as I worked on the film (that sounds a bit like James Benning‘s early works, but I hadn’t discovered him yet at that time). Making of In the delightful Portuguese town of Ericeira, I found the perfect playground for my project. Nestled along the Atlantic coast, this haven welcomes surfers from across Europe every weekend, yet slips into serenity during weekdays. So, I got the chance to turn my vision into a film, as the town itself became my open studio on weekdays. Throughout the project, I established strict guidelines: I committed to using images taken in a single, static shot with a 20mm lens. I split the frames horizontally into thirds: the near, the middle, and the far. And, into every part, I embedded precise visual elements and enriched the space with profound depth. The depth of field always remained sharp. In the places I observed I focused on the recurring incidents within the chosen frames. Picture this: A pair of dogs fenced in in a house’s courtyard. They howl at those who pass by. It is a daily affair and a repetitive routine. I noted these kinds of instances and then made up parallel occurrences that could harmonize with them. As an illustration, envision this: The dogs greet a motorcyclist passing by. But this motorcyclist is an actor in my curation. So employing similar strategies, I captured some uninterrupted shots of daily life. Visuals Every shot was independent, yet they all mixed with familiar characters and objects. These shared elements didn’t create a narrative line, but, for sure, viewers could still interpret them. You know viewers are taught by the films they’ve seen. They always pick up certain patterns, and they tend to link this with that. So, when I pieced together these scenes, I had to play to these tendencies by shuffling them. I even flipped a few links that may occur and took a wild guess at what might click with the audience. I embed key pieces where they would find out, or maybe hide them so slyly that even keen eyes might miss them at first glance. So each new find is a fresh chance to spin a new narrative line. And any newfound discovery could destroy what they thought they knew about the narrative so far. Absolutely this is similar to Flemish Painter Pieter Bruegel‘s style. He embeds his main subject subtly into a vast canvas. It is a clever trick that escapes your eye while you observe everything else in the painting. Take The Census of Bethlehem and Fall of Icarus as prime instances of this artful play (check out this post, where my admiration for his works is on full display). Audiovisual Tricks Truthfully, when I kicked things off, I wasn’t aiming to create a narrative line. My key aim was for viewers to take in these frames just like they watch a painting and appreciate each frame on its own. But, try as I might, the viewers would keep on with an interpretation practice. And if I ignored this reality, my film would’ve been seen in a whole other light than I intended. A universally accepted dramatic structure could potentially transform my work into a crass effort, something I definitely didn’t sign up for. So considering the audience’s tendencies, I created a structure that doesn’t seek unanimous agreement. I didn’t just stick to visuals and their order, but I dealt with sound manipulation too. Creating a world beyond the screen with sounds, I let viewers ponder what lies beyond the edges in the off-screen space while they watch the tableaus. I was fortunate with the sound mixer, Tiago Matos (arranged by my university) who put in extra effort to grasp my intentions and mirror my vision. So, mixing all these, I birthed a film that plays with the audience like in a game. It’s a constant invitation to conjecture that keeps the audience engaged and allows narratives to display in countless permutations, depending on the dots they choose to connect. Audience’s Role You know the old cliché about art films not giving a darn about the audience. Some filmmakers embrace this notion as an alternative to crowd-pleasing. But I think they bark up the wrong tree. Making your work for the audience isn’t the same as conforming to their preferences. To me, all art is made for an imaginary audience that might be a mix of people from different places and eras. And considering the audience is not about turning into a crowd-pleasing puppet. It is more like a cool tango that acknowledges the audience without becoming a commercial sellout. Abbas Kiarostami wisely reflects on the role of the audience in the cinema by suggesting that in the upcoming century of film, an appreciation for the audience’s intellect and creative input will become unavoidable. He proposes a shift from the traditional notion of directors as only authorities. He implies that filmmakers should also embrace the perspective of the audience. For a century, cinema has been in the hands of filmmakers, yet Kiarostami envisions a future where the audience becomes a creative part of its evolution. So my method aligns closely with this notion. I play the role of the audience in this film and capture the scenes I desire while I am aware of my imaginary audience. Pre-Permutations and Post-Permutations The significance of this film lies in my portrayal of how the audience contributes to the entire cinematic experience and my approach to engaging with them. This is why I divided my filmography into Pre-Permutations and Post-Permutations eras during the 2010s, and I let this film shine extra bright even though the instructors at the university didn’t give it much attention (they probably didn’t even feature in my imaginary audience). Trailer Where can I watch the film? You can gain access to the film on our Patreon page. Credits The list of people that I collaborated with: Nicole Carp, Okan Kal, Tracie Holder, Susana Barriga, Tiago Matos, Marco Amaral, Margarida Cardoso, Tiago Hespanha, Victor Candeias You can find details regarding their roles on our production company’s website. Contributions: This film is linked to my master’s degree project in the DocNomads program, titled as Observing Through the Complex Image and Off-Screen Space in Documentary Filmmaking Further Reading Other posts where I mention Permutations (2016): Jukebox for My Films Pre-Permutations era The Hawk (2013) The Hawk (2013) is a one-shot three-minute microfilm, that is made as a ticket to the DocNomads master’s program. It echoed the style I would later refine in Permutations (2016). Picture this: A humble peasant family’s daily routine is interrupted by a small incident. Like a cinematic dance, I orchestrated attention within a single frame with the actors’ and objects’ subtle moves, both in and out of frame. You can watch the film here: The list of people that I collaborated with: Mustafa Kandemir, Fatma Kosoglu, Yilmaz Atabey, Mustafa Atabey Downtown (2014) Downtown (2014), is a twenty-minute short film in which I explored existential themes. While echoing the naturalistic style of The Hawk (2013), this film took a different route. It centers around a few days in the life of a high school teen and invites the audience to bear witness to fleeting moments in his everyday existence. So, channeling Francois Truffaut‘s vibe from The 400 Blows (1959), I attempted to discover my personal Antoine Doniel territory. This film was my wild experiment that allowed my creative instincts to run freely. Sadly, luck wasn’t on its side. Even though it earned selections at some festivals, it was never screened due to cancellations. Here is the list of scheduled screenings: The first scheduled screening, Ankara Film Fest, 2015: All screenings were canceled due to a protest against censorship. The Second shot, Los Angeles Turkish Film Fest, 2016: The event was canceled due to sponsor troubles. They even made me buy a ticket and then refused to cover the cancellation fee. So, I decided to keep the ticket and fly to LA anyway. (Thankfully, I had a blast for a week with my Mexican friend.) The Third try, Edirne Film Fest, 2016: A prior LGBTQ+ film sparked a commotion among elderly audiences, and the theater emptied before my film got a chance. The fourth attempt, Fil’m Hafizasi Event in Istanbul, 2016: The event was canceled because of a terrorist attack in Taksim, Istanbul. The fifth go: Some academics from the UK supposedly hosted a private screening, but I’m in the dark about the whole affair. So, as you see, they all ended up with disappointments. Another issue with the film is that I followed the naive director’s guide. I intensely injected my personal interpretations and symbols into the mix and I aimed to create meanings from the chaos. Looking back, I label this approach a cinematic malady that gripped me during that era. Here is an excerpt from the film: You can check out our YouTube channel for another excerpt. The list of people that I collaborated with: Emre Halisdemir, Mert Yasar, Ali Eren Guven, Yilmaz Atabey, Nurettin Kadioglu, Emine Kadioglu, Danis Sezgin Further Reading Other posts where I mention Downtown (2014): The Tyrant Behind the Camera Stove (2012) The Stove (2012) is a six-minute short film revolving around a man who sneaks into a fisher’s shelter with the intent of stealing food, but upon encountering a stove he stays in there and willingly faces the consequences. His longing for a home evolves into an all-consuming desire, which was a transformation I aimed to capture. Later, I wanted to make a connection between this film and Downtown (2014) under the theme of the longing for a home, not only material but also social and even spiritual manner. So, a short film trilogy was on the horizon, and actually, it was completed later on with Yard (2018). But this trilogy idea was exactly what I meant by the cinematic malady: It is developing thematic concepts centered around symbols while aiming for a bold thesis. You know, it catches every filmmaker at least once, just like measles. But it’s hanging out with the audience too. Some people always hunt for meanings through thematic symbols. They see metaphors in everything. They find metaphors in their sleep. Of course, I am not against anybody doing this exercise of the mind. But, to me, a filmmaker should not construct a film only upon symbols to be decoded, for then the film turns into just a tool. A film is not a vessel to ferry an idea or notion. It should brew up its own meaning, and be an idea in its own right. But, back then, I didn’t quite get this insight. But we live, we learn, right? Here is the trailer of the film: The list of people that I collaborated with: Mert Yasar, Serhat Atasaral, Recep Ekmekci The Children of The Rain (2011) The Children of the Rain (2011) is a twenty-minute short film that embodies a very evident approach: Activism. It addressed anti-nuclear efforts while dealing with a proposed power plant in a small town that is still recovering from the aftermath of the Chernobyl disaster. l will be clear: this film does not seem like a cinematic attempt, it is more like an audiovisual activism. And now, it seems to me that activism is a potential threat to the film world as socio-politically inclined content overshadows other cinematic pieces. I believe the transformative power of art comes from raising long-term empathy. Activism, though, tends to zoom in on quick wins and expects immediate results. Yet, that’s not always feasible in the short run. Paradoxically, pushing too hard with activism might converse its impact. These activist films direct viewers to a false sense of accomplishment. People watch them, ponder the issue, and perhaps share them with friends, feel like they’ve done their bit. Unfortunately, often the real, action-demanding problem goes unresolved. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not painting activism as evil, it has its merits, but slotting it as pure cinema is just misguided. Filmmakers shouldn’t feel pressured to defend causes, I believe their essence lies in expressing their personal agenda. Those days, I danced to the tune of others’ expectations. But let’s not forget to applaud artists just for the act of creation. Our expectations, sometimes, should just let them be. Another little anecdote I might share is that this film got over a million views on the internet, mostly from Turkish viewers. This was a time when YouTube and other social media hadn’t yet become the giants they are today. Even so, the film found its way to reach people on nearly every social media platform. But there was a problem with this popularity. Some people (even some big news channels) were stealing the content from the original source and uploading it somewhere else without my permission. I was tired of claiming my copyright, and after a while, I decided to completely remove the film from public access. Even though years have passed, I still deal with these thieves. And, now those viewership figures are nothing more than cold and impersonal statistics to me. Here is a still from the film: The list of people that I collaborated with: Emre Halisdemir, Mert Yasar, Betul Azmanoglu, Nurettin Kadioglu, Okan Kal On the Square (2015) In addition to these films, I’ve got many unreleased student short films from the Pre-Permutations era. Most of them were shot for specific educational purposes, so I’ve left them out of my filmography. However, I want to shine a light on On the Square (2015), a five-minute one-take film co-directed by my classmate, the great and only Cecilia Bandeira. Imagine a glimpse at the face of a young woman, lost in anticipation at a renowned square in Budapest. Who she is, who she waits for, remains a mystery. And as we join her in silent contemplation the city’s symphony gradually fades away. Here is a still from the film: The list of people that I collaborated with: Cecilia Bandeira, Tamas Almasi, Attila Kekesi While I have a deep affection for this film, I’ve decided to remove its accessibility because the girl featured in the film was unaware of her appearance. And despite my efforts, I haven’t been able to contact her. Anyway, to watch other films from my Pre-Permutations days, check out our Patreon page (and, of course, I am leaving those unreleased works for future film historians to uncover). Post-Permutations era Yard 2018, Turkey, 15 min Yard (2018) is the final act of my short film trilogy, which also includes Stove (2012) and Downtown (2014). As I mentioned earlier, this trilogy was originally an exploration of the longing for a home theme, each approached from unique angles. In this film, my filmmaking approaches intertwined. In Permutations (2016) I developed my keen observations on what is around, but in Yard (2018) I dared to construct a whole set for it. Picture this: Capturing a traditional Muslim funeral ritual from one fixed angle and blending the frame with the movements of actors on and offstage. Just like a moving painting. Evolution of the Idea I found the ideal stage for my film, a location that allowed me to capture a vast panorama. But I must confess that the moving painting idea fell short. The choreography I had in mind for the actors, both in and out of the frame, took longer than my estimation. And, the scene lacked the dynamism to keep the audience fully engaged. So my musings on paper failed to flow their performance on the stage. Then, one day serendipity stepped in. While lazing around the set, a trail of smoke emerged across the valley one fine day. The smoke ascended gradually and injected a subtle dynamism into the view. Alongside a colleague, I brainstormed the smoke’s origin. Odds were, the villagers made a fire to craft molasses from grapes, due to the vintage season. That smoke activated me, and a fresh idea emerged. Mirroring the stylistic vibes in Permutations (2016), I decided to focus on the heartbeat of the space. Thus I would choreograph a situation with the chosen frame’s organic elements. I wondered, what would be the connection between the funeral and the smoke? This question pushed me beyond my observations and a narrative emerged: The smoke could hold the key to a post-funeral story. Here are snapshots from the production design phase: Audiovisual Tricks and Storytelling Now, how could I infuse the story? Of course, I played with sound elements. I wanted the audience to guess and engage with the help of sounds. In Permutations (2016), I only worked on ambiance sounds, but in Yard (2018) I included dialogues. I went for a simple idea: Starting with a naturalistic funeral ceremony right up front, then blackouting the screen. Using sounds, I created an atmosphere that felt like night. And I embed a conversation between two unseen men in the darkness. From here on, it was all about the progression through sounds and dialogues, much like a radio play. Robert Bresson once claimed that the eye craves when the ear is fed, and vice versa. I took this to heart. So, I satisfied viewers’ eyes with the funeral scene. I even removed all spoken sounds and only let the visuals speak. Then following the dark screen urged the audience to open their ears and truly listen. For ten minutes, they experienced the two men’s dialogue only through their voices against the dark backdrop. As the film neared its end, the darkness gave way to light as the day broke and incidents hidden beyond the yard were uncovered with a cloud of smoke rising. Here are the storyboards drawn by the Spanish artist Guillermo Gomez Moreno: Thematic-driven Approaches As for its place within the trilogy, Yard (2018) explores the spiritual homelessness of individuals which is a progression from material and social homelessness examined in my prior works. A thematic trilogy if you will accept. But, to be honest, I’ve lost my admiration for such thematic constructs. They feel like banal tools for shallow artistic promotion. But the trilogy has already earned the label as Homeless Trilogy, and feel free to read between the lines as you like. You know, in an ideal world, perhaps we wouldn’t need labels or names for films. After all, they are audiovisual creations, while names are literary adornments. The American painter James McNeill Whistler seemed to get it right. His most famous painting, a portrait of his mother, is titled Arrangement in Gray and Black No. 1, which emphasizes the form over all else. Of course, there are also similar examples in films such as 11×14 by James Benning or Ten by Abbas Kiarostami, that emphasize the number of sequences or their duration. Actually, I adopted a similar approach to Permutations (2016) to underline the structure of the film. However, this is not the most marketable technique in the world of cinema. In this context, I also like Romanian director Cristi Puiu’s attempt: He named one of his films Sieranevada (2016) which has no apparent connection to the film’s content or form. So, he mocked the interpretations that would inevitably revolve around the title. Anyway, moving beyond the titles, these three short films share a cinematic universe, and that’s actually enough to bind them organically into a trilogy. But what truly matters to me now is creating a visual and auditory experience that establishes a direct connection with the audience beyond any predetermined theme. Communication with Audience In 2019, I stumbled upon an article reviewing Yard (2018), written by university students who also awarded the film at the Trento Film Festival in Italy. I hadn’t encountered these people before and never whispered a single detail about my film to them. Yet, when I finally got around to translating and absorbing their words from Italian, a warm realization got me. My cinematic attempts had flown in harmony with them as an audience. So I thought that’s how I dig communication. A Filmmaking Method Surely, Yard (2018) marked a turning point in my cinematic exploration and crystallized my stylistic inclinations on screen. Also, my process for making a film became distinctly defined: Framing a landscape Observing the setting within the frame Integrating the setting’s organic elements into a narrative So, flaws and all, this trio of short films has been my personal cinematic academy, a six-year journey, a worthy attempt, an act of reflection, and documentation of my vision in progress. Poster While working in his garden, Mert Yasar, the art director in this film, urged his grandfather for a quick photo shoot with his mobile phone. His grandfather’s untrained eye resulted in a charmingly unconventional composition. I polished it and repurposed it for the poster. Of course, this image doesn’t directly connect with the film but the textures are harmonious with the film’s visuals. Trailer Where can I watch the film? You can gain access to the film on our Patreon page. Screenings International Film Festival Rotterdam, Trento Film Festival, Vilnius International Film Festival, Dokufest International Short Film Festival, Rio de Janeiro International Short Film Festival, MedFilm International Film Festival, International Film Festival of Uruguay, Lille International Short Film Festival, Tetova International Film Festival, Leggimontagna International Film Festival Set Photo (photographed by Ugur Dizman) People standing, from left to right: Veysel Biliciler, Osman Kaya, Nazim Kurtulus, Yusuf Akbal, Metin Atasaral, Enver Ergenc, Seref Atabey, Ali Kemal Ozdilek, Maksut Azakli, Yilmaz Atabey, Zeki Atabey, Ahmet Canbaz, Zehra Canbaz, Nurettin Kadioglu, Nevin Akpulat, Caner Akpulat, Koksal Kaynar, Veysel Kandemir, Mustafa Kandemir, Hasan Kadioglu, Danis Sezgin, Omer Kiymaz, Nejla Demircelik, Bora Ince, Hayrettin Halisdemir People sitting, from left to right: Mustafa Kosoglu, Filiz Bayraktutan Sayin, Fatma Kosoglu, Utku Kosoglu, Asiye Kose, Yigitcan Kosoglu, Yigitcan Sarioglu, Emine Ozdilek, Emine Kadioglu, Nurhan Halisdemir, Zeliha Tuncer, Mirac Atabey, Emre Halisdemir Credits The list of people that I collaborated with: Emre Halisdemir, Mert Yasar, Ali Eren Guven, Guillermo Gomez Moreno, Mustafa Kandemir, Danis Sezgin You can find details regarding their roles on our production company’s website. Financial support: Ministry of Culture and Tourism in Turkey Production Fund Wrapping it up for now. If you are curious about what’s cooking next, head over to the Works in Progress page.