dir. Özgür Dogruöz
It’s beyond generous to even refer to The Adventures of Açela as a movie. It’s more a psychological battering; a foray into the depths of a troubled consciousness; the audio-visual ravings of a lunatic. Here’s a green alien. There’s a tiger. Why? No “why”. Just is. The entire thing leads to a climax, the focal point around which the attempted cinematic experience is based, and that climax consists of our heroes listening while an old man tells them a story. No visuals of the story, just shots of the man speaking to his audience. They’re all sitting in silence. Listening to a man talking. And talking. And talking. For eleven straight minutes. About sultans and crooked noses and septuagenarians. Then before the credits, several quotes pressing upon us the importance of education. If a giant, bewildered, pleading question mark could be turned into a movie, then The Adventures of Açela would not be it, because this is not a movie.
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