You Don’t Have to Be a Cinema Genius

At the screening of my debut feature, A Hero of Our Time (2023), in Rize, the audience feedback provided perfect evidence that validates the effectiveness of my approach to the audience. Rize, the home of our production company, is located in the northeast of Turkey, far from the cinema industry. While film culture isn’t exactly flourishing there, I never view this as a drawback for local audiences to reflect on my films. Quite the contrary, I see it as a hidden strength. Let me explain.

The Godfathers of the Independent Film Industry

Leaving entertainment or populist-oriented cinema out of this topic, I observe two prevailing viewpoints in the world of cinema that differ from my own stance. Firstly, there is what I call the festival-oriented perspective. This approach often labels films as independent cinema and tends to interpret them through the lens of discourses and allegories on socio-political issues. Even if the films themselves aren’t directly addressing those issues, they still treat the entire work with the same perspective.

Moreover, there’s an expectation that the films will somehow bring about societal change or healing about these matters. In other words, films are perceived as tools for activism which, I believe, undermines the essence of cinema. Activism ignores the power of films in the long term (I mean, raising empathy) and expects quick fixes and changes. You know, activist films can trick audiences into feeling like they’ve taken action just by watching and spreading a film, but real problems always persist and await concrete solutions.

Of course, films are reflections of our problems too, but not a remedy, especially when they can reach only a narrow audience. Absurdly, the issues being discussed never reach those responsible for creating them. Instead, they remain confined to an elitist circle where everyone reinforces each other’s viewpoints. Filmmakers and the festival industry often try to give audiences a sense of accomplishment about trendy socio-political issues by addressing them. But their critics sound like old, grumpy, nagging grandpas, that have no real effect. This approach has become so prevalent that I now view independent cinema as the new mainstream.

Paranoid Arty-Farty Audience

Another issue is that I’m not a fan of interpreting artworks through symbols. It is a practice rooted in religious paintings. While its form dates back to ancient times, it evolved from the 3rd and 4th centuries onwards with the Christian iconography tradition and has influenced visual arts throughout art history. Simply, it involves placing or interpreting elements within an image as representations of something else. Personally, I prefer not to view paintings from this perspective, even if they are produced with a symbolic intent. To me, it’s a narrow lens that restricts our imagination and personal interpretations. And, the idea of applying this method to films is completely absurd.

This approach is more common among those with art or film education, who might see it as a trendy thing to do. Most film courses promote this narrow perspective, which I believe is a flaw in education. Viewers who look for symbols (or metaphors) and overanalyze every detail simply miss out on the pure experience cinema offers. They try to read the films instead of watching, experiencing, and reflecting on them. To me, the art of cinema does not need this kind of evaluation at all. And, in fact, those who don’t have this approach may actually have a better chance of understanding the films as they come in with a fresh perspective, free from preconceptions.

But this is not only about the audience’s perspective, surely it is also the fault of the filmmakers. Some directors either adopt this tradition or are unable to break away from it. Many argue against the existence of symbols in their films and promote a more direct experience, but they fail to create films that support this view. They find themselves making films suitable for symbolic interpretation. Even some master directors struggle in this regard.

Personal Perspectives

Now, let’s get back to the main topic. What I like in A Hero of Our Time (2023) is that I offer an experience that is similar to making daily reflections, where we lay our heads on our pillows at night and think: What did I experience today? This approach is central in the film as it is intentionally incomplete in its story, visuals, and characters to invite the audience to fill in the gaps with their own references.

You don’t need to be a cinema genius to reflect on this approach. Spending time with the film and relating it to your own life experiences would be more than enough. And, every interpretation is valid since it would be a collaboration between the audience and the filmmaker. So, any casual viewer can bring their own life references to the film. Of course, the film inevitably features an inherited audiovisual style with tons of cinematic references. However, one does not need to decode them to appreciate the film, as the viewing experience does not primarily rely on those references, or allegories, or symbols, or metaphors, or discourses. Instead, it simply observes cross-sections of life scenes and guides viewers to connect with them directly.

Sure, I’ve also seen my perspective validated by more knowledgeable cinema audiences and individuals from the film industry. However, it was during the screening in Rize that I truly witnessed the film’s impact. This audience typically doesn’t have much exposure to such films, but they responded to my cues and cinematic language by drawing from their own life experiences, and their feedback was very insightful and transcended local or cultural codes.

You know, after interacting with those people from the film industry, who pretend to be masters, and unfortunately dominate all distribution channels from festivals to theaters, this screening felt like a relief.

Now, I can enjoy a Kris Kristofferson song.

Note: Check out these posts where I discuss the topics mentioned above:

The Death of Independent Cinema

Unstoppable Paranoias: Symbols

Don’t Expect to Get Rid of the Labels

A Guide to Self-censorship