Your new film “New Dawn Fades” is in the main competition at the Locarno Film Festival, congratulations to you and your team. How has the process been for you?
Actually, this new film was initially an experiment for me to see if I could make a film through conventional means. It turned out that financing a film through conventional means is a real hell; it took us four years. My previous films were generally projects I did with my friends or small teams. Also, the genre of the film changed while we were working on it. The idea I initially developed was more in a documentary format, but over time it turned into a genre film. In that sense, the political economy of what we were filming changed completely over time. We first presented the film at the Cannes Atelier (The Cinefondation’s Atelier), which was very beneficial for us. There, we found two co-producers and received support from Norway. At one point, the opportunity to shoot with Peter Zeitlinger came up, and I decided to wait for his schedule. He is a cinematographer whom I knew from both Werner Herzog and Ulrich Seidl films and whom I like very much. Since Peter also comes from a documentary background and has experience shooting in crowded and chaotic areas and sets, he was a good match for the film. We set out to make a fiction film that takes its narrative from documentary but is stylized and based on mise-en-scene.
From the beginning, I decided to throw away all the methods I knew for preparing, shooting, and editing a scene because in “New Dawn Fades” the passage of time needed to be different, creating a different kind of viewing experience for the audience. We shot very long improvisations with the actors, sometimes lasting over 20 minutes. We plunged into real locations like making a documentary. In Istanbul, I wanted to see people’s faces, expressions, and spontaneous reactions. I come from a documentary background and can’t think or feel like a drama director. I think this permeated the entire film. It was a kind of ‘being real while pretending’ situation. There was always the thought of chasing an ‘accident,’ wondering if there would be an accident, whether this was a magical accident, or if something else would happen. Now, when I look at the film, I realize that my favorite parts are the moments of those real ‘accidents,’ the places we never planned to shoot. I think those accidents are cinema itself. There were moments in this film when I said, ‘The Gods of Cinema are with us!’ However, we were a fully organized fictional film crew and intervened in reality when necessary, according to the story.
Despite the long pre-production period, I’m satisfied with the experience I had with “New Dawn Fades” during the shooting process. That’s my understanding of the fictional feature film, and I’ve learned a lot from the challenges of what I wanted to do.
So, the shooting process took a long time because of all these reasons, I guess?
Not exactly. The preparation and post-production phases took a long time, but we shot the film in a total of four weeks. Considering the scenes we shot, I think that’s a very short time. I also shot for only 4-5 hours a day; I never had the thought of filming until the morning. Because I believe in this: In cinema, you go to a place with a plan in mind for that shot, you’ve made the necessary preparations, and if the scene is there, it’s there. If it’s not, you can’t force it to happen, no matter how long you try, even all night. That’s what I believe. On the other hand, my biggest fortune was probably being surrounded by very strong actors, as their presence made my job easier.
Actually, the opposite is often said about photography. Spending hours in the location, constantly checking the frame, and waiting for the right moment. Are you saying that in cinema, the process is somewhat the opposite?
Actually, we were there at the most beautiful times of evening or dawn light, ready, but there was always the thought of “what are we going to do now,” and I find that very valuable. It’s a concept that others, especially producers, are afraid of. Controlled chaos. The place where that ‘right moment’ resonates for me is different. I can’t define it exactly, but I recognize it when it comes. I think we worked very harmoniously with Peter Zeitlinger in terms of recognizing those moments when the ‘right moment’ resonated. Often, there was no need to even talk about it.
A kind of uncertainty, then.
Yes, absolutely. For instance, I’m just realizing that Cem (Cem Yiğit Üzümoğlu) was that kind of actor, and he was amazing in that sense. He would do something unexpected even to himself, and then forget what he did. We would notice it while watching the footage later and ask him to repeat it, but he would say, “What did I do?” That whole improvisational state fit Istanbul very well. Because I think a stylized film cannot be made in Istanbul. Maybe only with a massive production that shuts down everything. This situation was partly shaped by the nature of the location itself. In the film, I wanted to portray Istanbul as a character in its own right, both interfering with and not interfering with its daily life. A reality/dream machine where the banal and the surreal coexist simultaneously.
Speaking of Cem, this time you worked with a professional actor. This is something rarely seen in experimental cinema, where there’s generally no need for actors and scripted dialogues; in fact, it often builds a cinema contrary to this. You mentioned that you made an “experimental film”; how did this aspect reflect in your film?
When it comes to actors, the film has a very interesting spectrum. For example, I cast Suzan Kardeş, who usually appears in comedy films or commercial TV series, in such a serious story, and the result was fantastic. But on the other hand, I also worked with actors like Cem Yiğit Üzümoğlu and Erol Babaoğlu, who have theater and academic backgrounds, as well as some people who had no acting experience at all. The main thing here was the ability of the main cast to adapt to all these different elements in the best possible way. They played their roles without any harshness, keeping everything at a completely human level without competing with anyone’s acting skills. This allowed us to shoot long improvisational scenes. In a way, cinema is a very democratic art form. You set certain rules, but as long as you don’t use those rules to control people harshly, everything works. In fact, every person has the inclination or ability to achieve this. Often, we end up ruining what we are doing or are unable to continue doing it because we regulate each other with the rules we’ve set.
Actually, the main character of this film was based on a real person, and I initially wanted to work with him. However, over time, this became impossible. Then I thought that the equivalent of what I wanted to do with this real character could only be portrayed by an actor who can perform for a long time, someone like Cem who performs for two hours in theater.
Does what you mentioned also apply to your music video and commercial shoots?
I place music videos and commercials in a separate category. They were areas where I tried many beautiful things, but since the political economy of the work is always commercial, no matter what you do, it doesn’t have the lasting impact of a 10-20 minute short film. In this age of popular consumption, these works come and go. But I had a similar mindset in those projects as well. I would call in my theater friends or pull someone off the street to act… However, in cinema, I believe in something specific; like how Bruno Dumont would enter a pub and cast the entire film from there. I strongly believe in that. Sometimes a face, body language, or the way a person speaks is enough for cinema. None of the people in our favorite Bresson films were fully-fledged actors, yet they remain memorable to us. That’s why sometimes being too good and technically proficient can harm cinema. The best actors in cinema are often those who master the strange balance between these two extremes.
In Bresson’s documentary (Un metteur en ordre: Robert Bresson, 1966), Godard referred to “Au Hasard Balthazar” as “a masterpiece with a donkey and a simple-minded girl.”
Yes, absolutely. Mouchette is also a simple-minded girl, in fact. A simplicity that is real, that hurts and therefore shakes us to the core.
Do you have any doubts while casting an actor or after casting?
Of course, I have a lot of doubts because they are going to act. My doubts disappear the moment they make me forget that.
In an interview you gave more than five years ago, you were asked about your new film “New Dawn Fades”. However, the film is only now being completed. If there’s no personal reason, we’d like to ask about it. Does it seem normal to you that a film takes many years out of a director’s life? What are the reasons for this from your perspective?
If we do the math, yes, five years is a long time and it’s not normal at all. Thankfully, I place special importance on the process itself. What happens during a film’s production and the impact it has on me are very important. When I look at cinema, I see that everything is increasingly becoming results-oriented, and I think this is what’s truly abnormal. Making everything focused on results and success independent of context puts a distance between us and what we want to create. Is it worth spending a long time for a good film? Yes. Am I ready to spend that time again? I’m not sure.
Do you think this way because of market constraints?
If you want to make a film with a co-producer from Europe, considering the processes we went through, you can only complete the film in this amount of time. Otherwise, we were always ready to shoot. In the end, we decided to shoot the film when they finally said, “Come and shoot this film, or we will take back the money.” Essentially, I believe in films that take a long time. There are films that take significant amounts of time from people’s lives, but I don’t think this should be a necessity.
Do you think this situation is a necessity from your perspective?
At least financially, I think so. But I also spent some of that time based on my own preferences. For example, I dedicated two years to editing, which was a deliberate choice. First, we kept the good parts we had shot in our pocket and then found a completely new path for ourselves in terms of editing. It was necessary to strike a tone while translating long improvisational scenes into the editing language. That’s why I find this process valuable as well. Because the steps taken up to this point are what’s valuable to me. The road ahead feels very boring to me. I know I’ll be doing it as a “duty” from now on. Right now, I have “Horde”, which I’ve finished, and another film called “Taş Uykusu/Stone Sleeper” that I plan to do soon, and I’m pleased that they didn’t take five years.
You are talking about the festival and PR side of the film.
Yes, the festival process, talking to people, getting together, participating in Q&A sessions… Of course, you support your own film; I have no issue with that. But, for me, everything I could do is done. “New Dawn Fades” is finished and it’s out there. I want to move on with other things in my life. But, for instance, there are directors who really enjoy that part of the work.
It almost feels like there are directors that make films for that last part.
Absolutely. I find it human, but I think it has no importance. There is a type of director who sees it as a platform and fits very well into that platform. I watch with interest when directors I love do it, but to me, it seems a bit unnecessary. I don’t like speaking in front of crowds because I believe we form a very integral relationship with films. However, we all establish relationships with films that are independent of the personas or statements of their creators. The more we talk, the more we reshape our relationship with the films, and we inevitably start to regulate that relationship. Whether this is because it’s an expensive business or something brought by the industry, I don’t know, but everything is very transparent. Everything is about explaining. The other day, I came across a video of David Lynch talking about how ridiculous it is to publish behind-the-scenes footage. He is so right. You destroy all the magic and the dream. For me, the process itself is more important, and I am more enthusiastic during this process. I don’t feel the need to reveal myself as a director. For example, when I come across a director I admire, I don’t go and introduce myself. I watch their films, and the relationship I establish with those films is enough for me.
Because it would ruin that magic?
Yes. We constantly adjust the experience we are having. I don’t believe in the institution of directing. I believe in the art form and I already practice it, but I don’t believe in the existence of directing as a profession. Maybe it’s because I’ve always made documentaries, I don’t know. This part of the work seems a bit like tabloid journalism to me. The craftsmanship part of the work always interests me more. However, the person speaking has to be someone as interesting as Godard or Straub for me to listen. That’s my personal criterion.
Interview: Enes Serenli, Hasan Doğuyel
Translation: Matthias Kyska
Othon Cinema 
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