We have many films on the theme of how repressed English visit sunny Italy or Greece to discover new depths to their souls, from "Zorba the Greek" through "Room with a View," "Enchanted April," and "Shirley Valentine." "Steam," or "Hamam: Il Bagno Turco," breaks new ground.
To begin to understand the enormity of the life-transforming intensity of feeling the "cold" foreigners experience in Istanbul, the "cold" foreigners are ITALIANS, the very people whom film makers love to contrast with the supposedly cold Brits.
"Il Bagno Turco" made me and two friends -- one of whom had never been there, another who'd lived there four months -- want to hop the next plane for Istanbul, and perhaps never leave.
The film reminded me of how surprised I was to experience the warm hospitality of the Turkish people.
It also reminded me and my friends, once again, of how profoundly civilized the Italian people are.
The cinematography and direction is nothing short of amazing. In one scene, toward the end, the frenzied rush of one of the main characters through the streets of his Istanbul neighborhood to seek help is carried off with balletic precision, while the unseen camera photographs him from a variety of swiftly turning angles, with no camera in sight.
To begin to understand the enormity of the life-transforming intensity of feeling the "cold" foreigners experience in Istanbul, the "cold" foreigners are ITALIANS, the very people whom film makers love to contrast with the supposedly cold Brits.
"Il Bagno Turco" made me and two friends -- one of whom had never been there, another who'd lived there four months -- want to hop the next plane for Istanbul, and perhaps never leave.
The film reminded me of how surprised I was to experience the warm hospitality of the Turkish people.
It also reminded me and my friends, once again, of how profoundly civilized the Italian people are.
The cinematography and direction is nothing short of amazing. In one scene, toward the end, the frenzied rush of one of the main characters through the streets of his Istanbul neighborhood to seek help is carried off with balletic precision, while the unseen camera photographs him from a variety of swiftly turning angles, with no camera in sight.