Motherland

For the first 20 minutes of Motherland almost no words are spoken, with grim faces half in shadow, as we follow young divorcee Nesrin as she moves into the home of her dead grandmother to finish her book.

Then her mother Halise arrives, and the tone only becomes more bitter and stark, as dark snow-blanketed days pass and Halise spends her time gossiping with the local women and judging Nesrin on her clothing, marriage and religious piety — all under the guise of being there to support her. But even as she becomes too distracted to write, Nesrin can never ask Halise to leave — she needs something from her mother, but is not sure what.

Motherland is a confusing, challenging experience. Events often lay unexplained, characters unintroduced, so you feel like you're always one step behind the story (the ending particularly is strange and confronting). But by paying more attention you also notice the unadorned beauty of the setting and the careful, considered cinematography. Reflections, light, and shadow all play a huge role in making the film's obscured journey of two damaged women trying to understand each other work. The performances are strong — Esra Bezen Bilgin who plays Nesrin has a face you could watch for hours — and help to make Motherland a worthwhile, if not particularly enjoyable, experience.