Screened as part of NZIFF 2015

Mustang 2015

Directed by Deniz Gamze Ergüven Fresh

“Five young sisters in a small coastal Turkish town come of age against a backdrop of sun, secrets, and socially-mandated sexual suppression in [this] heartfelt, beautifully performed debut feature.” — Jessica Kiang, The Playlist

Aug 03

Embassy Theatre

Aug 05

Embassy Theatre

Aug 06

Penthouse Cinema

Aug 07

Penthouse Cinema

France / Germany / Turkey In Turkish with English subtitles
94 minutes CinemaScope / DCP

Producer

Charles Gillibert

Screenplay

Deniz Gamze Ergüven
,
Alice Winocour

Photography

David Chizallet
,
Ersin Gök

Editor

Mathilde Van de Moortel

Production designer

Serdar Yemişçi

Costume designer

Selin Sözen

Music

Warren Ellis

With

Güneş Nezihe Şensoy (Lale)
,
Doğa Zeynep Doğuşlu (Nur)
,
Elit Işcan (Ece)
,
Tuğba Sunguroğlu (Selma)
,
Ilayda Akdoğan (Sonay)
,
Nihal Koldaş (grandmother)
,
Ayberk Pekcan (Erol)

Festivals

Cannes (Directors’ Fortnight) 2015

Elsewhere

While it begins in a burst of lyrical exuberance with schoolchildren frolicking in surf, this knockout first feature from Deniz Gamze Ergüven builds increasing tension culminating in an edge-of-seat finale. It’s the tale of five orphaned sisters growing in sexual consciousness, and their guardian uncle and grandmother’s increasing attempts to lock down this adolescent force. In their coastal Turkish town, watchful neighbours defame the spirited girls’ purity: it’s a world where parents still bang on newly-weds’ doors demanding blood on the sheets. So the girls are imprisoned in their sun-filled, several-storeyed house until one by one they are married off – as long as their virginity can be guaranteed. Masterfully under-told, the story rarely leaves the house, unfolding through the eyes of the youngest girl, Lale, who reaches her own brave conclusion that escape is the only option.

Likened to The Virgin Suicides in its dreamy style and narrative, Mustang has a more urgent political drive, as we see several different versions of severely compromised female life. Pared-back storytelling and a bold, very present musical score (by Warren Ellis) culminate in a phenomenally emotional climax as the possibility of freedom diminishes. Mustang depicts a modern patriarchal Turkey with a deeply enculturated repression: the apparent normality of the restrictions belies their shocking violence. Ergüven operates with a light touch, however, expertly drawing the viewer into a total empathy with Lale, her diminishing life options, and one clear principle she surmises: that if you don’t fight, you die. — JR