With Arms Outstretched

It's the nighttime, baby, don't let go of my love...

"Alison, I know this world is killing you.
Oh, Alison, my aim is true.”


As I sat at the Boston Market (you know the place, rotisserie chicken and the like) I was already deciding that it was time to write about this place. It’s right down the street from me, and it never fails that on a dreary weekend day I will end up there in a horrible state of mind. I don’t know if it’s just this particular establishment or if it’s quite normal for casual eateries to cater to the lonely every weekend, but my Boston Market is the place where single diners come to cover their misery with comfort food. Some people were getting their food to go last night, obviously wanting to wallow alone in their apartments rather than fully soak in the sadness there, but I find it somehow helps whatever is troubling me to sit in the restaurant with the other single diners, silently supporting one another in the bold move to eat by ourselves. There was a marked silence last night and I noticed that there was only one table in the whole place with more than one diner occupying it, while there were no less than ten singles, and the “relaxing” AC music provided quite the soundtrack for our dining experience (I think the station used is the same one we had at Taco Bell, oh the memories…). So it only seems fitting that Elvis Costello would come on to commiserate with me over mac n cheese.

But the evening only went up from there. Took advantage of my free entry to the MFA film screenings and saw Climates with Ryan and some other friends of his (who may become my new MFA going friends). It is a Turkish film directed by, and starring, Nuri Bilge Ceylan. Ceylan’s wife, Ebru, stars with him, portraying a couple as their relationship quietly erodes away with the most beautiful long takes, often void of any dialogue, each shot calculated to say something very specific while maintaining the element of realism and allowing endless contemplation of each look, each tear, each word unspoken. While Manohla and I don’t always see eye to eye, I love how she opened her review in the Times:

“Some killers do their work in a frenzy of violence. Others wield the knife quietly: they carve out your heart without spilling a drop of blood. In “Climates,” a man and woman break up with hot tears and lacerating words; there isn’t a knife in sight and their hands look immaculate.”

Isa (Nuri) and Bahar (Ebru) are taking their first vacation in years only for it to be the catalyst that finally tears them apart. Bahar is younger; Isa is consumed by his thesis that he can never quite finish. The film begins at the end of their relationship, omitting any instance of love or happiness they presumably had at one time. As they go their separate ways, it is Isa we continue to follow as he resumes life through the autumn in Istanbul. Despite feeling that the cold winter affects him down to his bones, he travels to a remote region of Turkey where snow falls continually over the frozen land. He has come to ask Bahar to leave her job and come back with him to Istanbul, a grand gesture that becomes rather anticlimactic, especially for American viewers (myself included). He does not plead with her; he simply explains that he believes he has changed, only to alter this to “I believe that I am capable of changing.” He brought pictures from their last vacation, a strange choice considering that time was not necessarily the best in their relationship. But it’s too little, too late, and with Bahar’s refusal, Isa simply leaves.

So my question is this: how long does one have before it becomes too late? Is a second chance even an option, or when someone calls it over must one just count their chips and move on? Even to the end, Bahar loved Isa, much more than he loved her, but traveling to the frozen town for no other reason but to get her back was still not enough for Bahar. Instead she remained in her frozen world, possibly because it’s much easier for her heart to remain iced-over than to return with Isa and allow it to thaw out.

Despite the less than happy ending, I enjoyed the film immensely. There’s something to be said for not saying anything at all. Ceylan is a visual master, with simply composed shots that are yet complex in meaning. This is an example of using the medium to its full potential.


While my spirits were lifted after the film, nothing helps maintain good feelings like going out with the girls. As usual, heading out to Allston is well worth the trip on the T. Had lots of fun not picking up guys we found attractive and staring at big-bottomed white girls with big hair and tight leggings try to out-dance us. Not a chance in the world, my friends, not a chance.


“I wish the world was flat like the old days
Then I could travel just by folding a map
No more airplanes, or speed trains, or freeways
There'd be no distance that can hold us back.”

posted by Alison @ 1:40 AM