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The Edge of Heaven: A European Union 
GAUTAMAN BHASKARAN traverses the cultural divide in Fatih Akin’s follow-up to Head-On, The Edge of Heaven, a film to reconcile German and Turkish differences.
FATIH AKIN’s The Edge of Heaven bridges two extremely different cultures, two diametrically varied races, and even countries. Winner of the Best Screenplay Award at the Cannes Film Festival this year, the movie travels between Germany, European in every sense, and Turkey, whose Islamic tradition and culture is something of a hurdle in Istanbul’s fight to become part of the European Union. Akin’s work amply underlines this divide between what is essentially European and what is perceived – or, better still, fancied – by some as Continental.
Like his 2004 Berlin Golden Bear winner, Head-On, The Edge of Heaven explores factors that segregate, but unlike the earlier film, the latter treads beyond to show us how chasms can be actually bridged.
The Edge of Heaven begins in Germany with a Turkish immigrant widower, Ali (Tuncel Kurtiz), who falls for the charm of a Turkish-Muslim prostitute, Yeter (Nursel Kose). They begin to live together, much to the chagrin of Ali’s brilliantly academic son, Nejat (Baki Davrak). A violent confrontation between Ali and Yeter one evening leaves her dead and him behind bars.
In the Meantime, Yeter’s daughter, Ayten (Nurgel Yesilgay), gets involved with a Turkish underground movement and flees to Germany, where she seeks political asylum and meets a local girl, Lotte (Patrycia). They become lovers to the disapproval of Lotte’s mother, Susanne (Hanna Schygulla).
Ayten does not get an asylum, is sent back to Istanbul, and Lotte follows her with disastrous consequences that eventually bring about a touching rapprochement between the elderly Susanne and the younger, rebellious Ayten. Akin weaves into the screenplay a part for Nejat, who we presume will in the end find Ayten, a woman he has been searching for.
The Edge of Heaven works in many layers. We notice a disguised effort to cement the gulf between EU and Turkey by underplaying the differences between the two nations. And even while Rainer Klausmann’s camera captures the contrast between Hamburg and Istanbul – the two cities the story moves back and forth from – Akin cleverly manages to link the two peoples, through their emotional turbulences.
Susanne sees – in the end – something of her own daughter (Lotte) in Ayten, and begins to understand why the two girls bonded so well. Detailing traits such as acceptance and forgiveness, Akin spins his plot around tragedies to strengthen his characters’ resilience for views that may seem far removed than their own. This is brought out with flourish in one of the last scenes where Susanne and Ayten come together, both having gone extreme distress and pain.
The Edge of Heaven is often a string of sparse frames, shot with a refreshing economy of words. The picture’s near flawless performances add to its overall appeal. Precise and smooth, The Edge of Heaven has but one jarring note: the political face-off between Susanne and Ayten at the beginning that sounds too much like a sermon. A cliché that could have best been avoided.
Indian journalist and Lumière associate Gautaman Bhaskaran showcases selected writing on cinema on his website, gautamanbhaskaran.com.
» The Edge of Heaven [Akld/Wgtn/Chch/Dun]
Fatih Akin | Germany/Turkey | 2007 | 122 min | Featuring: Baki Davrak, Tunçel Kurtiz, Nursel Köse, Nurgül Yes¸ilçay, Hanna Schygulla, Patrycia Ziolkowska.
» The Edge of Heaven [Akld/Wgtn/Chch/Dun]
Fatih Akin | Germany/Turkey | 2007 | 122 min | Featuring: Baki Davrak, Tunçel Kurtiz, Nursel Köse, Nurgül Yes¸ilçay, Hanna Schygulla, Patrycia Ziolkowska.
Yongsoo Park wrote:
Example #1: The iconic German actress Hanna Schygulla plays the aged mother of one of the main characters. Her daughter, a German university student with an idealistic streak, brings a Turkish woman whom she has just met, to stay in their house. The daughter wants to help the Turkish woman, who is homeless and an illegal immigrant. The mother seems to project quiet disapproval and warns the daughter about harboring an illegal alien. In this manner, the film makes the viewer think he or she is seeing a contrast between the staid mother and the bohemian rebellious daughter.
Later, however, the film reveals that this staid mother is not who the viewer has come to think she is. In her youth, she was also a free spirit and a bit of a bohemian who hitchhiked to India. She shows herself to be someone so different than who she seemed to be.
Thus, the viewer's very perception is challenged and this character is revealed to be complex and truly human and not the "type" that the viewer has pegged her to be. In other words, the film challenges and undermines the viewers' perception to provide true insight.
Example #2: The opening scene of the film is of a car driving into a gas station in rural Turkey. A man gets out of the car, asks the gas station attendant to fill it up, then goes inside to the little convenience store, where he buys some snacks and exchanges small talk with the shopkeeper about a song that is playing on the radio. The shopkeeper says the singer is from the region but died of cancer due to fallout from Chernobyl that's only revealing itself to the public now. The man pays for his stuff and the scene ends. It's a two-minute scene. No tension. No conflict. No nothing. Completely mundane. Something that could happen to anyone.
Ninety-minutes of the film later, the same scene is replayed in exactly the same form. No changes. But the film has revealed the events that have led up to this man's setting foot in that gas station. It's the same scene. The same two minutes. But now, it's filled with tension, true pathos, and an abundance of meaning.
Again, this is an example where the film shows us something, makes us think we see it, only to reveal that what we think we're seeing is not so. It challenges the expectations and perception of the viewer. It makes us see with new eyes.