Once Upon a Time in Anatolia Blu-ray delivers stunning video and audio in this exceptional Blu-ray release
A murder has been committed and a man has confessed; all that remains is for him to lead police to the body so they can wrap the case. In the dead of night, two cars and a Jeep carrying the murderer, the police chief and the prosecutor set out to find the burial spot. As the small convoy inches its way through the darkness of the deserted countryside, it becomes clear that the killer can’t locate the place where he left his victim. Cigarettes are smoked; conversations occur and refreshments are served in a local village; nothing significant seems to happen. Yet whether we are aware of it or not, small clues are being planted along the way.
Nuri Bilge Ceylan might not be well-known in the U.S., but he's a big name in Eurasian cinema, with a reputation for quiet films that peer through the
monotony of everyday lives to get at deeper existential insights. On its surface, the Turkish director's sixth and latest feature, Once Upon a Time in
Anatolia—a co-winner of the Grand Prix at 2011's Cannes Film Festival—is an atmospheric police procedural about a murderer, a missing body, and
the men whose job it is to crack the case. Beneath the workaday bureaucratic details, though, is a network of intertwined subtexts—male identity and
middle-aged insecurities, the disconnect between penal justice and individual ethics, the customs and expectations that define small-town life. This is a
rough approximation, but it'll get you close: Imagine a hypothetical version of The Wire, scripted with minimal action by Anton Chekhov, shot
in long, pregnant takes by Bergman or Tarkovsky, and set on the arid slopes of rural, middle-of-nowhere Turkey. At a glacially paced 157 minutes,
Anatolia will absolutely be too slow and undramatic for some—probably even most—but the film definitely rewards those with the
patience to live in its world for a while.
That world is spare, barren, a scrubby landscape of rolling hills and other repetitions—dirt roads, occasional trees, fallow plots of turned up soil,
fountains carved out of rock. It all looks the same, which is why confessed murderer Kenan (Fırat Tanış) is having trouble leading the officials to the
buried corpse of the man he drunkenly killed a few days before. A three-car convoy moves through the countryside after dark, following Kenan's vague
directions. He's squashed in the back seat of the lead vehicle between a chatty cop and the well-heeled Doctor Cemal (Muhammet Uzuner), who's
along to do a preliminary examination of the body. If they ever find it. Up front, police commissioner Naci (Yılmaz Erdoğan) and his driver, "Arab" Ali
(Ahmet Mümtaz Taylan), argue about the merits of unpasteurized buffalo yoghurt. The cars behind them carry the local prosecutor (Taner Birsel), a
second suspect—Kenan's mentally handicapped brother, Ramazan—and a few soldiers, shovelers, and backup personnel. For the hypnotically repetitive
first half of the film, this cavalcade drives from spot to indistinguishable spot, where the men stop and get out to root around unsuccessfully for clues.
The commissioner—who's mentally preoccupied after a nagging phone call from his wife—is convinced Kenan is giving them the literal run-around. But
the killer looks bewildered and wracked by guilt.
And haunted. It might be a stretch to compare this first section to a mythic journey through the underworld, but not much of one. The Once Upon
a Time of the title seems to indicate we're at least partially in a sort of fairy tale narrative space, while Anatolia grounds us in an actual
location. Ceylan's directorial style here—his naturalistic but thematically loaded dialogue, his stylized compositions and careful camera movements—has
the quality of an extremely realistic dream, one imbued with meaning we can't quite pinpoint until later. The metaphorically weightiest sequence
comes when a storm moves in, forcing the convoy to take cover at the home of a territorial mayor, who welcomes them at 2 a.m. with food and
hospitality. There's mundane chitchat as everyone eats together in a crowded room—the mayor drops hints that he could use additional funding to
repair a cemetery wall—but the wind blows the power out and suddenly everything that happens for the next few minutes takes on a sad and even
eerie significance. The men comment on the mayor's daughter's stunning beauty, which is doomed to go unappreciated and fade quickly in such a
backwoods part of the country. The prosecutor tells the skeptical doctor a supposedly true story about a woman who foretold her own death. And
Kenan unexpectedly sees the specter of his victim in a corner, wheezing for air.
This collective dark night of the soul does eventually lead to daylight, a less portentous tone, and the discovery of the body, crudely hog-tied and barely
underground. The men stand around it, staring at the inevitability of death. Reports are filed. Someone notices that both the dead man and the
prosecutor bear a slight resemblance to Clark Cable. Everyone laughs. The deceased is awkwardly folded into the trunk of a car and hauled off for an
autopsy at the nearest hospital. In no way could any of this be considered a "spoiler." This isn't that kind of film. There are no twists, no shoot-outs, no
dramatic confrontations or daring escapes. In fact, you shouldn't expect the film to adhere to any of the usual cop drama conventions. The
genre is just a framework. Once Upon a Time in Anatolia is less concerned with the solving of a mystery than it is with small revelations about
the inner lives of its characters. These contemplative men, each defined by his profession, are all wrestling—whether they recognize it or not—with
larger questions about purpose and existence and their own legacies. The police chief who clocks overtime to avoid being home with his disabled son.
The divorced and childless doctor, who makes a compassionate moral judgement call at the end of the film. The killer, whose actions—while never fully
explained—are possibly motivated by a paternity dispute. None of their stories are particularly resolved, but they don't need to be. We've shared this
one unusual night with them, and that's enough. We can only presume they go on living. For a time, anyway.
Visually, Once Upon a Time in Anatolia is one of the most beautiful and evocative films I've seen this year. Ceylan's usual cinematographer,
Gökhan Tiryaki, shot the movie digitally using Sony's F35 high definition camera, and it looks fantastic on Blu-ray, with a 1080p/AVC encode presented
in the intended 2.35:1 aspect ratio. Considering the first third of the story takes place at night, source noise is surprisingly minimal, even in the darkest
scenes. I was really impressed by the quality of the color grading throughout. The dusky yellow landscape emerging out of the blackness, bathed in the
golden glow of headlights—tonally, it's both fairytale-ish and realistic, both Once Upon a Time and Anatolia, so to speak. When the story
shifts to morning, the picture is no less striking, with finely tuned contrast, warm skin tones, and a pervasive creamy/dusty cast in the highlights. The
level of clarity is consistently excellent too. Facial features, the weft of a scarf, the slightly nappy texture of a wool jacket, the craggy rocks and turned-
over soil—everything is sharply rendered without a trace of edge enhancement. And besides a few fleeting instances of aliasing on fine parallel lines,
there are no blatant source/encode/compression issues either. Props to Cinema Guild for giving a gorgeous film a near-perfect Blu-ray presentation.
Cinema Guild has given us two audio options, a default Turkish DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround mix and a DTS-HD MA 2.0 stereo fold-down. Both are
plenty capable, but if you've got a multi-channel home theater system you'll obviously want to go with the former. You might be surprised by how
immersive and engaging the 5.1 mix actually is. In many ways, this is a quiet film—dialogue heavy, with no score whatsoever—but it has a convincing
sense of environmental ambience. Take the first scene; the camera tracks in slowly from outside toward a window, peering in, and we while we hear the
muffled voices of the men inside the building coming from the front channels, behind us we also hear crisp outdoor sounds. It's very realistic. And the
sound design keeps up this level of acoustic accuracy. Wind blowing through the surrounds. Grisly autopsy noises. Cars moving between channels. There
was one thunderclap early in the film that was so intense and believable that it made me jolt in my seat. Dialogue is cleanly recorded and perfectly
balanced in the mix, and the disc includes optional English subtitles that appear entirely inside the 2.35:1 frame.
The Making of Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (SD, 1:36:39): A Blu-ray exclusive, this feature-length making-of documentary
includes interviews with everyone involved and lots of behind-the-scenes footage, specifically of Ceylan giving directions on location, working
carefully with the actors and overseeing practically everything. The term auteur certainly applies here.
Anatolia in Cannes (SD, 49:27): There's a ton of material here too, chronicling the film's appearance at Cannes, from the photo
call with the cast and an entire press conference, to red carpet gala footage and coverage of the award ceremony.
An Interview with Nuri Bilge Ceylan (SD, 24:44): Conducted on a beach at Cannes by Yekta Kopan, this interview is—minute for minute—
the most substantive extra on the disc, with Ceylan discussing the difficulties of the production, the lighting techniques used during the night scenes,
the casting, the film's story, and more.
"Lost in Thought" (1080p, 23:34): A visual essay of sorts by Haden Guest, director of the Harvard Film Archive, who discusses Ceylan's
career, films, and frequent themes.
Theatrical Trailer (1080p, 1:35)
Also from Cinema Guild: Includes trailers for several recent and upcoming Cinema Guild releases. Look out for The Turin Horse,
which is coming out on Blu-ray next month.
Let's not kid ourselves; Once Upon a Time in Anatolia isn't for everyone. It's decidedly slow, short on dramatic intensity, and maybe frustratingly
anti-climactic. But what some might write off as boring—a cop drama without any of the action—others will see as subtle and controlled, a mood piece
that's perceptive about male identity and provokes more questions than it gives outright answers. The answers are there, though, for viewers
patient enough to absorb and think about the film. This one definitely stands up to repeat viewings. Cinema Guild's Blu-ray presentation does justice to
the film's gorgeous cinematography, and the disc is loaded with special features too. Highly recommended!
Independent distributors Cinema Guild have officially announced that they will release on Blu-ray Turkish director Nuri Bilge Ceylan's (Climates, Three Monkeys) Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (2011). Last year, the film won the Grand Prize of the Jury (Best Film) ...
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