We Are All Re-Mixers

Stepping into broad literature, I find myself questioning the need for my words when it seems every idea has been explored. Why bother when everything has already been said and done? The same goes for filmmaking, where every style and subject has already been used. Why make a film? Where does the motivation come from? Is it the audacity of self-confidence or the blissful ignorance of the unknown? While these notions have some truth, an exploration into cinema and art history reveals the reality: We are all re-mixers.

The Disease of Our Age: Originality

Art history is not just a series of periods that differ from each other. It is a continuous evolution, where each new style absorbs and transforms the previous. And these transitions are like subtle shades of gray. But if we rush through the timeline, it is likely to miss how one artist adopts the other. Our mistake is viewing these long processes as if they were brief moments. Artists always take from the past to create today. They absorb the previous pieces to discover the new. The more they absorb what came before, the better chance they have at exploring the next big thing. Therefore, the avant-garde is just a remix of yesterday’s brilliance with a contemporary artist’s vision. And each new work has to be inherently original because it has the imprint of new individuals with their own (unpredictable) circumstances and perspectives shaped by them.

It is like cooking with a set of ingredients and creating a flavor unique to the chef. And it is this individuality that adds a significant spice. It could be perfectly blended, it could be a bit off-balance, or it could be the creation of a taste so distinct that it stands out. All those variations are acceptable in terms of their originality (and there will always be those gourmets ready to make comparisons between them).

So, in this sense, it seems ridiculous when people claim that they are entirely self-taught and not influenced by any external sources. If they are drawing, let’s say an illustration, did they stumble upon some examples somewhere and use them as references? Or did all knowledge just fall into their heads from the sky? To me, referencing is inevitable. Even if you started drawing without knowing a single artist’s work, your reference point is likely some kitsch painting hanging in your grandma’s living room that caught your eye as a kid.

That’s exactly why the pictures created by artificial intelligence horrify us as a competitor to human creativity. It simply performs similar tasks as we do. It just remixes the references. Surely we are not suffering from this challenge yet, because our originality still lies in our personality (if we have one). However, when AI evolves into a personal entity, then we might be forced to adopt new approaches, which I actually find a positive thing to boost our artistic advancement as humans.

I Was Not Influenced, I Inherited

At the premiere of my debut feature, A Hero of Our Time (2023), someone (an enthusiastic gourmet) in the audience asked about the influence of Roy Andersson on my film. And, I responded by clarifying that rather than influence, I intentionally aimed to take his style and transform it. I explained it this way because I am aware that any style doesn’t fall from the sky; it evolves through the interactions of artists. And I know that my film is not a copy, it’s a unique blend.

I have been working on Andersson’s cinema since my master’s degree project, Permutations (2016), in which I analyzed his painting-like static style and attempted to transform it into documentary filmmaking. My intention was not to be inspired; I wanted to contribute to this style of cinema and take it to a new level. And I believe I have achieved this with A Hero of Our Time (2023), because the experience the film offers is very different from Andersson’s cinema.

The most important element here is the naturalistic mise-en-scene: my characters speak at length in their natural, everyday rhythms, and everything is as simple, warm, and realistic as possible. Also, I extend the mise-en-scene into the off-screen space through sounds, and sometimes I create a narrative using only the sound. I design a more character-focused and linear plot. My camera looks down on the characters like a surveillance camera, and I use almost every part of the frame, with dynamic movement of characters and objects in and out of frame. I return to certain scenes to highlight different parts of the composition.

Andersson creates an absurd cinema, supported by both the music and the exaggerated universe he constructs. On the other hand, the absurdity I create arises organically from life moments, which appear subtly rather than dominating the film. I made a drama with absurd comedic elements, not an absurdist film.

Ingredients for a Mix

Beyond these, the film contains numerous references to different cinematic styles, photography, paintings, and even computer games. In other words, Andersson’s cinema is just one part of a bigger picture. And if you pull the similarity to one side, the other side inevitably will be distorted. Let’s say, you could compare the film to Cristi Puiu’s ultra-realistic mise-en-scenes, but it differs from his application of the cinema verite documentary style to fiction. You could compare it to the natural performances of amateur actors in contemporary cinema, but you will hardly see long, fully fictional, and complex pieces done flawlessly by amateurs.

ou could compare it to the minimalism and how it leaves room for the audience’s reflection of Abbas Kiarostami and Tsai Ming-Liang, but in contrast to their existential approach, my film has a detached naturalism like Robert Altman’s films. Now you could compare it to Altman’s naturalism, then I would point to John Cassavetes, who created fictional dramatic moments that look improvised, just like in my scenes. You may see similarities with Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s characters, but you will not find his dark worlds and profound psychological analysis in my films. The truth is, all of this, and more, is part of the mix. However, in the post-screening news, they only highlighted a small bit and linked my film wholly with Roy Andersson. Of course, it doesn’t bother me, but it feels unfair to the other elements in the mix.

Perhaps, we could talk about Tsai Ming-Liang‘s slow cinema, which keeps characters quiet and mysterious, which leads the audience to construct them,

Or my contemporary Yang Zhengfan‘s observational scenes capture human emotion through naturalistic visuals and quiet, painting-like compositions,

Or Robert Altman‘s naturalistic style with ensemble casts without a clear protagonist,

Or Cassavetes‘ scenes that appear improvised but are carefully written,

Or Bresson‘s simple and minimalist narratives that avoids explicit exposition derived from other art forms such as music, literature, and theater,

Or Kiarostami‘s approach that leaves questions unanswered for the audience to reflect them as a creative collaborator,

Or Cristi Puiu‘s ultra realistic and detailed mise-en-scenes,

Or long takes of Bela Tarr and Angelopoulos that create atmospheres absorbing in time,

Or subjects of Kelly Reichardt that focus on subtle human relationships,

Or the delicate dialogues between men and women of Rohmer and Bergman,

Or Godard‘s experiments on distance over connection and analysis over emotion,

Or Ozu‘s traditional family dynamics and his approach to converting the space into a character,

Or James Benning‘s photographic non-narrative films that invites the audience to co-create,

Or Nuri Bilge Ceylan‘s perspectives that examine human nature, needs, and desires,

Or Fellini‘s self-centered protagonists,

Or Bunuel‘s satires on society and morality,

Or Antonioni‘s exploration of middle-class alienation,

Or Kieslowski‘s moral stance on ethical dilemmas,

Or Tarkovsky‘s effort to let fragmented scenes create their own meaning without relying on symbolism,

Or Woody Allen‘s witty humor about human relations,

Or Tarantino‘s lengthy chit-chats about everyday things that seem unimportant,

Or Terrence Malick‘s uncompromising approach to his shooting and editing style,

Or Haneke‘s “funny games” with the audience,

I, a mighty re-mixer, added all these elements into my mixture, and I allowed them to enrich the film’s flavor. While they all contribute to the overall, it might not be noticeable at all. Nonetheless, this is entirely normal.

You can find the list of films by the directors mentioned in my Letterboxd page here.

Sauces and Dressings

Speaking of remixing, there is also the Lermontov factor. Naming the film after Lermontov’s novel made some viewers expect a cinematic experience of the book or Russian literature. Some of my friends even read the novel because of the film. But let me be clear: I am not an adaptationist, I am a re-mixer.

I took Lermontov’s intention for creating his main character, Pechorin, and added it to the mix, then left the rest behind. Lermontov’s goal was to distill the flaws of his era into a character. So I borrowed that motive to create my contemporary Pechorin: Mert. And the outcome, of course, strayed far from the novel’s character. Because this is my blend. And if you start digging, you might even think I am searching for a world filled with values that stands in contrast to Russian nihilism. And I would be satisfied with all those comments. I am all for red herrings: subtle misdirections for the audience that lead them to unexpected interpretations.

And what more did I blend into this mix? The autobiographical elements? Observations of everyday lives? Lengthy conversations with my collaborators? Things that I am surrounded by because of the world I was born into? Local culture? Muslim culture? The geographical structure of my hometown? Old Turkish films and series? Wanderings in the museums in my 20s? Bruegel? Jan Steen? Edward Hopper? Andrew Wyeth? Names from coated papers? Gregory Crewson? Julie Blackmon? My childhood friends? Monkey Island? Life with Louie? Or a bunch of things settled in my subconscious that I can’t even identify? Things are impossible to avoid, so it is wiser to accept?

Alright, I think I must stop before my mixture upsets your stomach.