Misfortunes of Imaginary Beings: 09/17/20

A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Thursday, September 17, 2020

Law of the Border (Lütfi Akad, 1966)

Yilmaz Güney and Hikmet Olgun in Law of the Border

Cast: Yilmaz Güney, Pervin Par, Erol Tas, Atilla Ergün, Tuncer Necmioglu, Muharrem Gürses, Hikmet Olgun, Aydemir Akbas, Sirri Elitas, Tuncel Kurtiz, Osman Alyanak, Ahmet Dunyal Topatan. Screenplay: Lütfi Akad, Yilmaz Güney. Cinematography: Ali Ugur. Film editing: Ali Ün. Music: Nida Tüfekçi.

There's a new lawman in this border town, and a pretty new schoolteacher. There's a charismatic outlaw who wants to go straight for the sake of his young son. There's a predatory landowner. There are gunfights and shootouts and a conflict between farmers and ranchers (well, sheepherders). There are, in short, all the tropes and formulas (not to say clichés) of the American Western. But the border in this case is the one between Turkey and Syria, which only goes to show how potent and universal the myth and melodrama that informs both our Westerns and Lütfi Akad's Law of the Border really is. The presiding genius behind this film is not so much the director, although Akad is a fine one, as the star, Yilmaz Güney, who plays the would-be reformed outlaw, Hidir. The film was based on his story, although much revised by Akad, and it solidified him as a major star, kind of the Clint Eastwood of Turkish film. Like Eastwood, Güney not only acted but also directed and dabbled in politics. He was a Kurd, a member of an ethnic group that is the nexus of conflict in at least three countries. His political activity got him in trouble with the Turkish junta and led to his exile and an attempt to destroy all copies of his movies, including Law of the Border. Only one badly deteriorated print of the film remained by the time it was unearthed and an attempt was made to restore it. Even the flawed restoration, however, is a fascinating look at a region that still pervades the headlines. But as the comparison to our Westerns suggests, it's a film that transcends boundaries, a story about old and new, freedom and repression, tradition and change, and other eternal dichotomies. Güney's performance is mesmerizing, and he's well-supported by a cast that includes non-professionals drawn from the village where the film was shot, adding a documentary realism to a familiar story.