It never rains but it pours. The adage holds true for the family at the core of Turkish filmmaker Seyhmus Altun’s debut feature film, As We Breathe that had its world premiere in the Discovery section of the recently concluded Toronto International Film Festival.
Mehmet (Hakan Karsak), who works in the maintenance department of the local chemical plant doesn’t just lose his job when a fire engulfs the factory in the aftermath of an explosion, but life has a way testing him relentlessly as new problems keep getting added to the older, unresolved ones.
An ill older son Eyup, aging mother, stuck payments, the disagreements with fellow workers, a decrepit car, limited financial means in the face of a larger economic downturn, rejected bank loans, disease hit cattle—his cup of woes just keeps running over.
The biggest challenge comes in the form of the dense and ominous cloud of smoke that envelops the village. As strong winds keep stoking the fire, he and the fellow residents are left with the threat of having to eventually evacuate. In the midst of it all the seminal question doesn’t get addressed by the authorities: why isn’t anyone doing anything about the fire?
The one to help Mehmet manage the precarious state affairs is his young daughter Esma (Defne Zeynep Enci). She is always by his side whether ferrying the homemade cheese for sale in the market or buying bread for the household as he negotiates with the bank officials for financial aid or even topping up his mobile. She is in practically every frame of the film largely as an observer and also a willy nilly participant in the adverse adult reality. A witness to her single father’s endless hardships that are bound to have taken a toll on her as well. Even as the spirit of a child resides in her and shines through in the games she plays with her younger brothers, Denis and Aras, and in her characteristic whistling, she is forced into the duties of an adult--feeding cattle, milking cows, making cheese, doing laundry and even being a proxy mother to her younger siblings when she is herself in need of a mother's love and caring. She has been forced to grow up quickly for a ten-year-old but can she handle that?
Altun’s narrative carries a distinct edginess to it, swinging between the innocence of childhood on the one hand and severe violence on the other. One can’t help but smile at the children and their sweet laughter one minute and sink into bleakness at the realisation of their severe destinies the next. There’s the infectious joy on the beautiful face of Esma at the prospect of getting a new school bag and the relaxed family picnic by the lake on the one hand and the anxiety she spots on the heaving shoulders of her father at the bank's refusal to lend him money on the other.
Enci is at the fulcrum of the film. It is bookended by her presence and powered by her astoundingly profound performance, mature beyond years. Karsak is as compelling as the sincere father trying to somehow pull along and take care of the family despite the misfortunes. They make a great team and along with the brothers and the grandmother complete a compelling picture of a family one can’t help but feel empathetic towards.
The brutal finale leaves one gasping for breath even as it makes one realise how deeply children can get affected by crises of adulthood around them despite seeming to carry on as usual.
Cevahir Şahin, the cinematographer of Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s Anatolia-set About Dry Grasses, plays with the vast landscape, the engulfing fire and the suffocating smoke and is also acutely focused on the human faces, especially the resilient one of Karsak and the at once luminous, stoic and broken expressions of Enci. Sahin’s camera shows us the horrific reality of the seemingly beautiful, bucolic area in which coming of age is heartbreaking than heartwarming, devastating than blessed. And, in doing so, underscores the universal truth that in the struggle for survival, it's childhood that’s the first to get sacrificed.