You Don’t Have to Be a Cinema Genius miracatabey, May 8, 2024May 10, 2024 At the screening of my debut feature, A Hero of Our Time (2023), in Rize, the audience feedback provided perfect evidence that validates the effectiveness of my approach to the audience. Rize, the home of our production company, is located in the northeast of Turkey, far from the cinema industry. While film culture isn’t exactly flourishing there, I never view this as a drawback for local audiences to reflect on my films. Quite the contrary, I see it as a hidden strength. Let me explain. Godfathers of the Independent Film Industry Leaving entertainment or populist-oriented cinema out of this topic, I observe two prevailing viewpoints in the world of cinema that diverge from my own stance. Firstly, there is what I call the festival-oriented perspective. This approach often labels films as independent cinema and tends to interpret them through the lens of discourses and allegories on socio-political trends (much like evaluating promotional videos for NGOs). Even if the films themselves aren’t directly addressing this approach, they still treat the entire work with the same perspective. Moreover, there’s an expectation that the films will somehow bring about societal change or healing about these matters. In other words, films are perceived as tools for activism which, I believe, undermines the essence of cinema. Activism ignores the transformative power of films in the long term (I mean, fostering empathy) and expects quick fixes and changes. You know, activist films can trick audiences into feeling like they’ve taken action just by watching and spreading a film, but real problems always persist and await concrete solutions. Of course, films are reflections of our problems too, but not a remedy, especially when they can reach only a narrow audience. Filmmakers and the entire festival industry tend to placate audiences by incessantly complaining about trendy socio-political problems that sound like old, grumpy grandpas. This approach has become so prevalent that I now view independent cinema as the new mainstream. Paranoid Arty-Farty Audience Secondly, I’m not a fan of interpreting films through symbols. This practice is rooted in religious paintings, known as Iconography. While this art form dates back to ancient times, it evolved from the 3rd and 4th centuries onwards with the Christian iconography tradition and has influenced visual arts throughout art history. Essentially, it involves placing or interpreting elements within an image as representations of something else. Personally, I prefer not to view paintings from this perspective, even if they’re produced with a symbolic intent. To me, it’s a narrow lens that restricts our imagination and personal interpretations. And, surely, the idea of applying this method to films is completely absurd. This approach is more common among those with art education, who might see it as a trendy thing to do. Most film courses promote this narrow perspective, which I believe is a flaw in art education. Viewers who look for symbols (or metaphors) and overanalyze every detail simply miss out on the pure experience cinema offers. They try to read the films instead of watching, experiencing, and reflecting on them. To me, the art of cinema does not need this kind of evaluation at all. And, in fact, those who don’t have this approach may actually have a better chance of understanding the films as they come in with a fresh perspective, free from preconceptions. But this is not only about the audience’s perspective, surely it is also the fault of the filmmakers. Some directors either embrace this tradition or are unable to break away from it. Many argue against the existence of symbols in their films and advocate for a more direct experience, yet they fail to create films that support this view. They find themselves making films well-suited for symbolic interpretation. Even some master directors struggle in this regard. Personal Perspectives Now, let’s get back to the main topic. What I like in A Hero of Our Time (2023) is that I offer a film-watching experience that is similar to making daily reflections, where we lay our heads on our pillows at night and think: What did I experience today? This approach is central in the film as it is intentionally incomplete in its story, visuals, and characters to invite the audience to fill in the gaps with their own references. You don’t need to be a cinema genius to reflect on this approach. Spending time with the film and relating it to your own life experiences would be more than enough. And, every interpretation is valid since it would be a collaboration between the audience and the filmmaker. So, any casual viewer can bring their own life references to the film. Of course, the film inevitably features an inherited audiovisual style with tons of cinematic references. However, one does not need to fully decode them to appreciate the film, as it does not rely on allegories, symbols, metaphors, or discourses. Instead, it simply observes cross-sections of life scenes and guides viewers to engage with them directly on a personal level. Sure, I’ve also seen my perspective validated by more knowledgeable cinema audiences and individuals from the film industry. However, it was during the screening in Rize that I truly witnessed the film’s impact. This audience typically doesn’t have much exposure to such films, but they responded to my cues by drawing from their own life experiences, and their feedback was profound and thoughtful. You know, after interacting with those people from the film industry, who pretend to be experts, and unfortunately dominate all distribution channels from festivals to theaters, this screening felt like a relief. Anyway, now it’s time to enjoy some Kris Kristofferson songs. Note: Check out these posts where I discuss the topics mentioned above: The Death of Independent Cinema Don’t Expect to Get Rid of the Labels Unstoppable Paranoias: Symbols Operations Reflections