Honey

Honey (Bal)
Semih Kaplanoglu | Turkey | 2010
103 min

With his eagerness to please his father, who he looks up to in a way only a doting son could, young Yusuf is perhaps this years most adorable, innocent and persistent character. In Bal, Turkish director Semih Kalpanoglu’s third feature in his ‘Yusuf trilogy’ we find a film that is in perfect harmony with nature and its surroundings in a way that does not require it to use any background score or even dialogues.

More a meditative film than a silent one, Kalpanoglu’s visuals have a poetic quality to them. The opening scene, where Yusuf’s father Yakup, a beekeeper, climbs a tree to place hives, is perhaps the most arresting opening of any film this year. The film, in perfect harmony with nature has a soundtrack almost entirely composed of the lush sounds of birds, animals and flowing river water. Amongst this picturesque setting, in Turkey’s Black Sea Region, is the daily ritual of Yusuf going to school, where he strongly desires to be awarded the badge that every good student gets upon reading properly from their textbook, but which he finds elusive owing to his problem of stammering. Upon his father’s advice, first imparted to him when he shares the particulars of a dream he had, Yusuf starts to whisper. He never speaks to anyone except his father and joins him after school when they go out into the forest to collect honey.

Yusuf’s innocent longing for his father’s love is completely acceptable and understandable. He lacks confidence, as a key scene early in the film demonstrates, where he is unable to volunteer in class to read a short story he has clearly practiced many times (we know this because he earnestly reads to himself while the short story is being read). Later in this scene, perhaps the films most sincere moment, Yusuf finally gains courage when his teacher asks for someone to read again, except Yusuf is asked to turn to a story unfamiliar to him. His crushed dignity is conveyed by Bora Altas, the young actor, with uncanny depth. Thematically, the film is richly aided by using religious metaphors and dreams. In fact, the Islamic interpretations of the prophets Yusuf and Yaqoub, also father and son, and the importance of dreams, is ingeniously incorporated into its structure and this comes full circle when Yusuf finds out one day that his father has not returned from a harvest trip. The unassuming visual style of the film forces us to be attentive to its sounds and sights. Scenes are set almost entirely from Yusuf’s perspective — the classroom appears bigger and wider than a room so small should, the forests are both enchanting and intimidating, and the ending, though cruel, beautiful and haunting in equal measure, underscores Bal’s position as the years most tender, humane and quietly unforgettable film.