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“Once Upon a Time in Anatolia” is a 2011 movie by Nuri Bilge Ceylan. Considered by many cinema authorities to be the director’s best movie, it was awarded the Grand Jury Prize by the jury chaired by Robert De Niro at the 64th Cannes Film Festival.

The movie, which begins with a group of men setting out to search for a body in the Anatolian steppes, sees the director skillfully using elements of crime, film noir, and dark humor. With the film taking place over a single night, it equates the flow of time with life, and at times, through its color palette and visual compositions, we almost see a Western atmosphere set in Anatolia. The movie’s title is likely no coincidence in evoking the master director Sergio Leone, known for his spaghetti western movies.

The movie, co-written by Ebru Ceylan and Nuri Bilge Ceylan along with Ercan Kesal, who is also a doctor, draws on a true story from Kesal’s mandatory service days in Kırıkkale-Keskin. The character of Doctor Cemal, portrayed by Muhammet Uzuner, is actually a fictional representation of Kesal.

The movie opens with a scene of three people seen through a window from a distance, setting up a makeshift table. Suddenly, we see cars with their headlights fully on in a pitch-dark remote place in Anatolia. It quickly becomes apparent that Kenan (Fırat Tanış), who we saw in the first scene, has committed a murder. He has buried the man he killed, and the police are searching for the location where the body is buried.

In the movie, the hierarchy among the prosecutor, soldier, and police within the state bureaucracy comes into play, and we see the dual conflicts between the characters. Doctor Cemal, being an outsider to Anatolia, adopts a more observational stance towards the events. Prosecutor Nusret (Taner Birsel), at the top of this hierarchy, exerts authority over Chief Inspector Naci (Yılmaz Erdoğan), who in turn tries to assert his dominance over his assistant inspector. Even if the murder occurred in the city, the uncertainty of whether the body is within the jurisdictional area creates a conflict between the police and the gendarmerie. In the scene where the gendarmerie offers cream biscuits to the prosecutor, we witness a portrayal of humanity’s tendency to side with the powerful. Arab Ali (Ahmet Mümtaz Taylan), the driver, constantly argues with another driver. Nuri Bilge Ceylan meticulously exposes these micro-level power dynamics through the conflicts among the characters.

During the search for the body, the conversation that flows between Doctor Cemal and Arab Ali, seemingly like soliloquies, adds an interesting dimension to the movie. The darkness of the setting and the characters’ sense of loneliness are deeply unsettling and tense. As Kenan describes various places in a vague manner, the body remains elusive. Chief Inspector Naci, losing control of his anger, attacks Kenan, and Prosecutor Nusret immediately intervenes. While the events unfold, Arab Ali notices a beautiful apple tree and starts shaking its branches to dislodge the apples. The camera follows one apple falling from the tree to a stream below. Although the apple occasionally pauses, it continues its journey, while we see some other apples unable to cross the threshold and rotting away. With the long, winding roads that the vehicles travel, this scene, reminiscent of an Abbas Kiarostami reference, seems to depict the flow of human life and time.

Nuri Bilge Ceylan meticulously exposes these micro-level power dynamics through the conflicts among the characters.

After one of the vehicles breaks down, the team heads to Ceceli village, where they are met by the village headman, portrayed by Ercan Kesal. We witness the famous headman scene, which has become a memorable part of Turkish cinema history, thanks to Kesal’s outstanding performance and dialogues. The headman sets up a table for his “friends from different parts of the state bureaucracy.” Kesal’s portrayal of the headman’s efforts to seize the opportunity to discuss his affairs with the representatives of the state is so convincing that he seems like a real village headman. His attempts to discuss his project for a “morgue with washing facilities” and its funding with the prosecutor, talking about what his children are currently doing, the prosecutor’s apparent indifference to anything but the meal, the headman’s request to make a wrap for Kenan, followed by Chief Inspector Naci’s gritted-teeth comment, “Of course, we need to feed him, he’s our brave man,” and the headman’s response to inquiries about his candidacy in the upcoming election, “Actually, I hadn’t thought about it, but we are preparing for the third term,” indicating his reluctance to relinquish his position… All these elements elevate the realism of the movie to the highest level.

During the meal, the electricity goes out. In the pitch darkness, a gas lamp is lit, casting a yellow light over a room filled entirely with men. Into this scene enters the village headman’s daughter, resembling an angelic figure, who serves tea to everyone (notably, she also brings cola for Kenan’s cola-requesting brother, an incredible detail). The changes in the characters’ facial expressions upon seeing the girl also hint at various emotional shifts. When Doctor Cemal sees her, he might recall his ex-wife whom he has divorced; Prosecutor Nusret may remember his deceased wife; Kenan reflects on his losses and Yusuf’s ghost. Fırat Tanış’s delivery of the line, “Yusuf Abi, didn’t you die?” is so poignant that it feels as if the person they are searching for, Yusuf, is not actually dead but still alive.

We witness the famous headman scene, which has become a memorable part of Turkish cinema history, thanks to Kesal’s outstanding performance and dialogues.

Following the emotional turning point in this scene, Chief Inspector Naci interrogates Kenan again, and Kenan finally reveals where he buried Yusuf. Earlier, Naci had been annoyed with Doctor Cemal for lighting a cigarette for Kenan, asserting that Kenan should earn the right to smoke. However, after Kenan’s confession, Naci personally lights a cigarette for him, marking a significant moment in the narrative and illustrating a shift in Naci’s attitude.

As dawn approaches, the team finally locates and uncovers the body. Discovering that Yusuf was bound in a hogtie, Chief Inspector Naci experiences another burst of anger. Once the body is found, the responsibility shifts from the police to Prosecutor Nusret, effectively putting him in charge, as the saying goes. While dictating the incident report, Prosecutor Nusret asserts his authority. Chief Inspector Naci, feeling the shift in power dynamics, says to Arab Ali, “In this world, you’re going to lead the dance, Arab. We do all the work, and you take the credit!” This statement captures the frustration and power struggle inherent in the situation.

As they are about to leave for the autopsy, Prosecutor Nusret hesitates and asks Doctor Cemal a question he seems to know the answer to: “Could a person really commit suicide to punish someone else? Would they do that, doctor?” Doctor Cemal’s response is telling: “Aren’t most suicides intended to punish someone else, Mr. Prosecutor?”.

During the process of listing the physical characteristics of the deceased, Prosecutor Nusret refers to the victim as looking like “Clark Gable,” which is followed by a brief moment of silence. Then, everyone bursts into laughter. When Abidin, who is writing the report, comments, “Prosecutor, you really do resemble Clark Gable,” Prosecutor Nusret appears slightly flattered. He adjusts his hair with his hands and his expression changes. Shortly after, he adds, “In university, they used to call me Clark Nusret,” revealing a glimpse of his vanity and how he relishes the comparison.

Throughout the movie, the topic of “the prosecutor’s friend’s deceased wife” between Doctor Cemal and Prosecutor Nusret gradually comes to light towards the end. According to Prosecutor Nusret, the woman had said she would die in a certain number of months, and indeed, she died at the time she had predicted. The prosecutor insists there was no reason for her to kill herself. When Doctor Cemal asks about the cause of death, he is told it was a heart attack. Upon questioning whether an autopsy was performed, the prosecutor dismisses the need for one. When the topic is revisited, the prosecutor delves into the details. The woman had caught her husband cheating with another woman, but she didn’t make a big deal out of it and forgave him. However, Doctor Cemal disagrees, asserting, “Women never forget such things.” He then theorizes that the woman, being pregnant, decided to commit suicide after giving birth. He even suggests the possibility that the heart attack could have been induced by an overdose of certain medications. As they are about to leave for the autopsy, Prosecutor Nusret hesitates and asks Doctor Cemal a question he seems to know the answer to: “Could a person really commit suicide to punish someone else? Would they do that, doctor?” Doctor Cemal’s response is telling: “Aren’t most suicides intended to punish someone else, Mr. Prosecutor?” This conversation reveals deep insights into human psychology and the underlying themes of guilt, punishment, and unresolved emotional conflicts in the movie.

In the movie’s final scene, Doctor Cemal watches a woman and child walking on a seemingly endless road. Despite his efforts to clean it off, we see a bloodstain still on his face. Like Prosecutor Nusret’s scars, Anatolia has left its mark on him as well, symbolizing the profound impact of the events and the landscape on his face.

After descending for the autopsy, Prosecutor Nusret’s role concludes, leaving the final word to Doctor Cemal. When the autopsy technician mentions finding soil in the lungs, indicating the man was buried alive, the doctor dismisses this detail. During the procedure, blood from the corpse splatters on the doctor’s face, and he subsequently closes the case. This raises questions: does the doctor ignore the evidence to hasten the child’s reunion with his real father, or has he developed feelings for the murdered man’s wife? In the film’s final scene, Doctor Cemal watches a woman and child walking on a seemingly endless road. Despite his efforts to clean it off, we see a bloodstain still on his face. Like Prosecutor Nusret’s scars, Anatolia has left its mark on him as well, symbolizing the profound impact of the events and the landscape on his psyche.

In “Once Upon a Time in Anatolia,” Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s perfectionism in extracting maximum performance from his actors is widely recognized. In this context, Muhammet Uzuner excellently portrays Doctor Cemal’s composure and observational skills. Yılmaz Erdoğan, who until then had mostly acted in his own films, delivers a remarkable performance under Ceylan’s direction. Particularly notable are his scenes discussing a phone call with his wife, the yogurt conversation, and his helplessness regarding his child’s condition. Taner Birsel brilliantly reflects the dominance of his character, who is at the pinnacle of all the power dynamics in the film. He masterfully conveys his character’s struggle with denial or reluctance to accept reality. The scene where the doctor and the prosecutor discuss suicide showcases Birsel’s ability to externalize the character’s internal conflict through his expressions and gestures. Ahmet Mümtaz Taylan showcases his acting prowess, especially in close-up shots and while delivering lines to Doctor Cemal, starting with the film’s title. Fırat Tanış, the only actor Ceylan had in mind from the beginning of the film, convincingly brings his character to life with minimal dialogue and piercing looks. Even Kubilay Tunçer, who appears briefly as the autopsy technician, effectively embodies his slightly darkly humorous character, contributing to the film’s rich tapestry of performances.

As Yılmaz Erdoğan described behind the scenes, the movie narrates events that could happen to “absolutely no one, nowhere in Anatolia” with such flawless execution.

The visual compositions created by Nuri Bilge Ceylan and cinematographer Gökhan Tiryaki in “Once Upon a Time in Anatolia” are indeed magnificent. Alongside these stunning visuals, the movie’s sound design and mixing are also exceptional. The attention to detail is such that even the sound of a burning cigarette is captured flawlessly. In a movie largely set outdoors and in open spaces, the meticulous use of various natural sounds is evident and contributes significantly to the film’s atmosphere.

“Once Upon a Time in Anatolia,” which made it to BBC’s “21st Century’s 100 Greatest Films,” is a Nuri Bilge Ceylan masterpiece permeated with the influence of Chekhov on all its characters and dialogues. As Yılmaz Erdoğan described behind the scenes, the movie narrates events that could happen to “absolutely no one, nowhere in Anatolia” with such flawless execution.

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