Our Old Friends

Where do we first learn the magic of cinema as kids? For many of us, it’s from our old friends: Cartoons. Every cartoon is like a time capsule of cinematic history. It’s got it all: framing, composition, audiovisual storytelling, and even character identification. All these elements are embedded in them and quietly educate us as an audience.

Take, for instance, the classic Tom and Jerry. This timeless masterpiece has been shaping the minds of generations. The narrative language is brilliantly simple. There’s no need for words, everything is conveyed through visuals and sounds that evoke our senses and ignite our imagination. Think about the unseen face of the famous landlady, Mammy Two Shoes, that we can’t help but imagine. Everyone I ask can immediately recall her.

Windows to Imagination

My all-time favorite cartoon is Life with Louie. It’s about American comedian Louie Anderson‘s childhood memories. And it shows the ups and downs of his life under the watchful eye of his strict dad. I think it is a masterpiece that injects such mature storytelling into children’s entertainment. And it also serves as a strong reminder to me: Our life’s narrative is shaped by our ties with our families. Perhaps my exploration of family dynamics in my films might just be the themes injected into my subconscious during those years.

Alongside cartoons, of course, we could step into the world of video games, where interaction becomes key. Here, we’re not just spectators, we’re active participants in the stories and adventures. Then we encounter TV series and films. We passively consume the content that surrounds us. Or we curate our tastes as we grow up: We seek out key films, follow visionary filmmakers, and expand our cinematic horizons. But I don’t think we have to abandon cartoons and games. They are still rich sources for our imagination and cinematic perspective if we give them a chance.

Fixed Perspectives, Fluid Words: Monkey Island

Monkey Island has been a source of inspiration for me since my childhood. It is a game series that follows the adventures of Guybrush Threepwood as he seeks to become a pirate in a Caribbean setting. What I love in this game is the brilliant art direction and the harmonious melodies that accompany the gameplay.

The first three games of the series are my favorites. In those games, our hero, Guybrush, explores various locations and encounters colorful characters in pursuit of solving mysteries around him. Each spot he goes through offers a wide-angle view, mostly with a fixed perspective. And they have a unique atmosphere and music throughout the game. We continuously return to them, solve mysteries, and connect the dots as the narrative develops.

I deliberately borrowed this aspect of Monkey Island, for my first feature film, A Hero of Our Time (2023). This film consists of just 32 fixed frames, with our protagonist visiting different places, and having lengthy dialogues with other characters. We observe those places from the same angles each time he revisits them, and every return unveils another layer in the ongoing narrative. Of course, we can’t control the conversations like in a game, but the film’s gapped structure invites the audience to actively contribute to the storyline.

A Naive Effort: Crazy Mahir

Monkey Island also raised my interest in game design when I was just 12 years old in 2001. With only a few basic commands at my disposal in programming, I couldn’t make the interactive adventures I envisioned, but I made a game with a bit of action, a simple storyline, and humor. My creation, called Crazy Mahir, revolved around a courageous but clumsy hero who seeks revenge for his mother who was killed by an enemy soldier during a war.

Crazy Mahir found a warm reception among my friends. Though it was a modest game, its story, ambiance, and humor garnered appreciation. Beyond my friend circle, some gamers on the internet enjoyed the game too. I even began making another game alongside a friend I met online. However, the demands of high school entry exams forced me to set aside it. Then, I got into filmmaking with a VHS camera gifted by my father. So I lost touch with game design. But even though I never mastered programming, I believe that I can still contribute to game design in areas such as art directing, storytelling, and character development. I’m always eager to collaborate with like-minded people who share the dream of bringing an adventure game to life.

Here are a few stills from Crazy Mahir:

Here is a memory from 2016 when two enthusiastic gamers, my brother and my cousin, enjoyed Crazy Mahir:

Psychological Investigations: Disco Elysium

Recently I stumbled upon a game called Disco Elysium that fired up my passion for game design again. This role-playing game isn’t just about controlling a homicide detective, it’s about embodying one. What strikes me the most is how the game explores human psychology and nature. It displays many human features of the main character such as logic, rhetoric, empathy, primitive instinct, visual calculus, endurance, perception, and more.

As you develop these skills, the narrative evolves in a character-specific manner and offers various paths and endings. All interactions in the game go beyond the surface as they involve both intellectual and psychological dialogues. And it’s atmospheric ambiance and music take the experience to a whole new level. Perhaps I will never have a chance to be part of designing such a game, but the cinematic qualities of Disco Elysium will undoubtedly influence my forthcoming films.