Ivy

30 November 2015 | 4:43 pm | Sam Hobson

"Things get deliciously metaphorical and hallucinatory, and the ship's looming, haunted architecture is really mined for all it's worth."

Part of BAPFF's 'Turkish Wave' sub-program this year, Ivy, the second feature from director Tolga Karacelik, is a strange and beautiful beast.

An unfolding and at times languid story about a group of men brought together to work on a large cargo vessel that gets stranded when its owner goes bankrupt, Ivy initially impresses with its beautiful wide-angle shots and strong, naturalistic performances. These elements intertwine to create an air of enigma and slightly unfocused portent, which, while sustained a bit longer than it perhaps needs to be, is ultimately forgiven with a pretty terrific payoff.

Tonally, the film's first half can be hard to nail down. The tension it builds is a muddied one, switching between what appears to be a picture of gritty, realistic discontent among workers who are stuck doing a job that's fleeting and unmoored from land-life, and a straight-up 'descent into madness' story whose journey upriver arrives at its destination quite suddenly, but also not completely unwelcomed.

The film's stop/start build up pays off in retrospect, as things get deliciously metaphorical and hallucinatory, and the ship's looming, haunted architecture is really mined for all it's worth. In all, Ivy can be a vague film, but never to the point of being a detriment to its stronger moments and terrific performances. It's creepy, well observed, beautifully shot, and really does linger with you.