To understand YOZGAT BLUES, viewers should understand that Yozgat is a small town in central Anatolia where not much happens; there is one club Delila, where physician Yavuz (Ercan Kesal) and his ex-student Nese (Ayca Damgaci) are engaged to perform a nightly cabaret. As immigrants from the metropolis of Istanbul, both find it necessary to role-play; Yavuz tries to play the world-weary performer, while Nese uses clothes and make-up to cover up her essential nervousness. As Mahmut Fazil Coskun's film unfolds, however, so the basic flaws in the two characters are exposed. Yavuz turns out to be a small-time performer desperate to make something of his life, even if it means working for nothing. The fact that he wears a wig draws our attention to his role-playing. Nese realizes that performing is not for her, but love offers a more attractive prospect, even if it means falling in love with would-be hairdressing shop owner Kamil (Kadir Saribacak), who in his own way is as much of an actor as the other two protagonists. The narrative concentrates on how all three characters cope with their disillusionment: Yavuz bravely carries on singing, in the belief that he is supporting Nese, but finds that his style of singing (old French ballads) is infinitely less popular with the customers than Turkish arabesk music. Nese tries out a new flaming red costume, but realizes by the end that her ambitions are not so grandiose: perhaps marriage is a suitable way of protecting herself against disappointment. Kamil's business venture looks doomed from the start (he has little or no stylistic sense when it comes to decorating his shop), but at least he has found a source of moral and physical support. The film is full of achingly long close-ups of the characters staring blankly into space, as if trying to cope with loneliness in a small, but unfriendly town: no one seems particularly interested in them. The narrative is slow, but comes to a poignant ending, as everyone ends up happy, except Yavuz, who promises to return to Istanbul by bus, but cannot board the bus when it arrives at the station. He is left alone, looking into space, his wig perched awry on his head, symbolizing his disturbed nature.
3 Reviews
aging singer can't express emotions
maurice_yacowar5 January 2014
Warning: Spoilers
Yozgat Blues is about a paradox — a singer who can't express his emotions. Ercan Kesal (actually a physician, not an actor) stars as Yavuz, an aging performer of French chansons who is drawn to his new backup singer, Nese (stage actress Acya Damgaci), but fails to express himself. She even has to suggest he take her as a vocalist.
A generous man, Yavuz takes her to the unromantic remote city Yozgat to help out an old friend only to find he's not getting paid and even has to pick up the hotel tab. That's how all the music turns into the blues. He continues to perform for free, even sells his instrument and car, in order to keep working with Nese. But she accepts the proposal of another lonely soul, Yavuz's barber Sabri (Tansu Bicer) whom she advises on setting up his own hairdressing salon. The barber is sensitive to her needs, advising her on her hair and skin problems. Yavuz can only say "Red is a good colour for the stage," not "Red is a good colour on you." Sabri lives with his granny but is actively trying to find a life mate.
Nese also proves a muse for the married radio poet, who more openly promotes her. When she sings with Yavuz, she's in the foreground but he commands the sharp focus. Singing with the poet she's again in the foreground but now she has the sharp focus. The parallel contrasts the men's respective attitudes toward her.
Yavuz's one French song is about the Indian Summer of life, the last fading spirit and energy. He shows no emotion at his father's death, which opens the film, but he uses that death to cover his grief at losing Nese at the end.That loss forces him into an emotional experience he has thus far avoided in life. In the last shot Yavuz is still too frozen to respond to the call for passengers to Istanbul. That same ambiguity — Will he go on or give up? — reflects in his abandonment of his wig.
The woman has an openness to new experience and a vitality that both her suitors lack and a freedom from the radio poet's pretentiousness. Far from the standard film beauty, Nese has a winning love of life, seen in her comfort at the grandmother's dinner. She is free from the insularity that characterizes all three men — and the bride and groom in the backseat, who stare stolidly away from each other. The film may also impute an insularity to contemporary Turkey, as the audiences reject the European songs for the traditional Turkish duo who supplant the central characters -- and get paid. For more see www.yacowar.blogspot.com.
A generous man, Yavuz takes her to the unromantic remote city Yozgat to help out an old friend only to find he's not getting paid and even has to pick up the hotel tab. That's how all the music turns into the blues. He continues to perform for free, even sells his instrument and car, in order to keep working with Nese. But she accepts the proposal of another lonely soul, Yavuz's barber Sabri (Tansu Bicer) whom she advises on setting up his own hairdressing salon. The barber is sensitive to her needs, advising her on her hair and skin problems. Yavuz can only say "Red is a good colour for the stage," not "Red is a good colour on you." Sabri lives with his granny but is actively trying to find a life mate.
Nese also proves a muse for the married radio poet, who more openly promotes her. When she sings with Yavuz, she's in the foreground but he commands the sharp focus. Singing with the poet she's again in the foreground but now she has the sharp focus. The parallel contrasts the men's respective attitudes toward her.
Yavuz's one French song is about the Indian Summer of life, the last fading spirit and energy. He shows no emotion at his father's death, which opens the film, but he uses that death to cover his grief at losing Nese at the end.That loss forces him into an emotional experience he has thus far avoided in life. In the last shot Yavuz is still too frozen to respond to the call for passengers to Istanbul. That same ambiguity — Will he go on or give up? — reflects in his abandonment of his wig.
The woman has an openness to new experience and a vitality that both her suitors lack and a freedom from the radio poet's pretentiousness. Far from the standard film beauty, Nese has a winning love of life, seen in her comfort at the grandmother's dinner. She is free from the insularity that characterizes all three men — and the bride and groom in the backseat, who stare stolidly away from each other. The film may also impute an insularity to contemporary Turkey, as the audiences reject the European songs for the traditional Turkish duo who supplant the central characters -- and get paid. For more see www.yacowar.blogspot.com.
Anatolian Culture and Music
ismailhakkishnn11 January 2021
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