Un Zievereir Reha Erdem captures so much in a world almost barren of freedom, opportunity and dialogue. Humanity is everywhere here, and in many of its forms evokes emotion from the observer. The film portrays a life and people who are strong and hard, yet their charm is plentiful. The cast are excellent and the photography seems to be more than just aesthetically delightful. It successfully connects the viewer with the place. The position of the village with its incestuously small life in the huge open timeless landscape with the sea in the distance is constantly magnificent. It echoes the theme, much like the words of the old lady when we first meet her. There are moments of brutality and horror, such as the moment the young girl drops her sister. Delicate moments and vulgar behaviour is witnessed throughout. I particularly enjoyed the run down to the orchard and grazing field each time a child called to his or her father. Or the brushing of heads with the leaves of the tree outside the schoolteacher's house. There is much to see here, even beyond the wonderful children. I loved the two brothers (one good and competent, one not so much) and their interaction with their father. The town's council, the temperamental electricity, the old lady, the school children, and the shepherd boy etc. also fill this document with life. That is the essence of this film (allowing for the fact that I know nothing of Turkish village life.) It is a colourful and expertly made documentation of a Turkish village. Successful in almost every way.Keen to cast an eye over authentic Anatolia, it was slightly disappointing to learn the actress playing the teacher is actually half German, from Germany, and is a doctor and a model. Although this wasn't as noticeable as in the Iranian-Turkmen 'Frontier Blues' where the woman also looking out of place is actually English and even half Berber. Although despite these two discernable women, generally they didn't distract too much from the wonder of the respective settings. As this is a film bubbling with life and character, it can easily absorb its minor faults. Serving as Bresson-like interludes and probably signifying the death of childhood, the wonderful photography of the children in dead like poses in rubble, hay, and vegetation was seemingly parallel to the story's style of filming, and almost out of place. Much like the usually excellent Arvo Part's music which serves only to create an ominous feel or sense of unease which is perhaps the purpose of this odd choice of soundtrack. Whereas the call to prayer works very well.An excellent glimpse of somewhere in Anatolia. Mr. Erdem has acheived a beautiful ode to his beautiful homeland.

danbes While there's nothing wrong with creating a film that says life is pretty much a drag for young people who are innocent victims of their parents and grandparents traditional ways, this film beats the theme to death. For me, the film primarily rings with one quality: hopelessness. Filled with symbolism designed, I believe, to express the filmmaker's view that the preadolescents we meet are pretty much resigned to life as it is, and without even a hint that they have any way out of their situation, the film, while photographed beautifully, and with competent acting by most of the characters, emerges as little more than a turgid overview of a rural life that few westerners have been witness to on the screen. There are far better films that do the same thing. I think of Bicycle Thieves, of the Apu trilogy, of Sugar Cane Alley, and of several other titles that bare witness to humans (young people especially) living lives of "quiet desperation" (as Thoreau put it), but which do so in ways that indicate the reasons, and which also present their characters as people who at least make an attempt to struggle against a situation they little understand and of which they are the victim. Don't avoid the Times and Winds. See it, but do so as a lesson in how an inadequate film could have been so much more.Dan Bessie / [email protected]

EchoMaRinE To begin with, I must say I was impressed with the cinematography. Turkish cinema is really going in a good direction. In general, I liked the movie as it is but the content did not satisfy so much. During the whole movie, you are exposed to very nice scenery that really reflects the Turkish rural life. The acting was professionally done as well. So the base components of the movie were quite good. The only missing part was a story. I mean it. You can start watching at any time and you wouldn't feel like you missed something. May be the story was so deep that my poor soul couldn't get it but I really asked myself what was this whole thing about, after the movie. I don't want to ruin the reputation of the movie but scenery without content should not be praised that much.

gradyharp BAS VAKIT (TIME AND WINDS) is less a narrative film than a suspended contemplation on the cycle of life, the passage of time, and the persistence of family traits. It is a work from Turkey of rare beauty visually, musically, and natural grandeur. Writer/director Reha Erdem is a poet as well as an accomplished filmmaker. Three young children are approaching the torrents of adolescence, each carrying emotional scars and family histories that will forever alter the way they reach adulthood. Omer (Ozkan Ozen) is the son of the local imam who climbs the minaret five times a day to chant the call to prayer: Omer's younger, smarter brother is favored by the father and Omer copes with the loathing for his father by planning his death. Yakup (Ali Bey Kayali), Omer's closest friend, has a crush on his teacher (Selma Ergeç) but is deeply disillusioned when he spies on his own father (whom he has always defended against his grandfather's abuse) attempting to court his teacher. Yildiz (Elit Iscan) is a girl under-appreciated by her mother and is stunned to overhear her parents coupling. The three children attempt to engage in a normal childhood, reacting tot he beauty of the natural surroundings of their poor little village to the point of learning animal husbandry first hand! They befriend another young orphan Davut (Tarik Sonmez), the town shepherd, when he sustains physical abuse from his guardian. The sensitivity of the children's reflections of their parents' maladaptive behavior creates a bond that sustains their daily trials. There is not a lot of narrative here, but the sensory pleasures of the film are immense. Divided into sections labeled Night, Evening, Afternoon, Noon and Morning, the film follows the marriage of the calls to worship that clock the lives of these people with the atmospheric cinematography by Florent Herry and embellished by the sumptuous musical score by Arvo Pärt. It is a long film (just short of two hours) that takes its time to unfold the mysteries of coming of age and it is a film that will haunt the viewer long after the credits have ceased. In Turkish with English subtitles. Grady Harp