Yesim Ustaoglu's latest film, 'What Remains,' delicately portrays the intricate struggles of an artistic couple in Istanbul as they grapple with both creative stagnation and personal turmoil. This drama, distinguished by its gradual unfolding, initially requires patience but ultimately develops into a sincere and profound examination of artists striving to overcome adversity. The narrative follows their individual journeys back to their origins, highlighting the healing potential of reconnecting with one's past and environment.
The story commences with Elif, a respected poet facing a prolonged creative block, and Mehmet, a musician who loses his day job as a music teacher. They live in a culturally rich Istanbul apartment with their son, Selim. Their comfortable existence belies an underlying crisis, as their artistic pursuits and personal lives have reached an impasse. The film accurately captures the challenging reality faced by artists who endeavor to balance their creative aspirations with the demands of family life and financial stability. This period of stagnation and emotional strain eventually leads to a poignant separation, despite their enduring affection for each other.
Following their separation, the film's narrative gains momentum as Elif embarks on a spontaneous road trip to an undisclosed destination, leaving Selim with Mehmet. Mehmet, in turn, is summoned to his hometown to tend to his ailing father, Mustafa. These parallel journeys become central to the film, as both characters undertake quests of self-rediscovery. Mehmet confronts his family's past and a long-held tragedy, while Elif seeks solace and inspiration in the remote, cliffside village where her grandparents once resided in central Turkey.
Ustaoglu masterfully uses Elif's journey to underscore the therapeutic power of returning to one's roots and the natural world, particularly for those feeling alienated in bustling urban environments like Istanbul. For Elif, this means immersing herself in the serene beauty of her ancestral home, where life seems to proceed at a timeless pace. Cinematographer Kiril Prodanov captures this essence through breathtaking widescreen shots, framing Elif against snow-covered landscapes and soft, natural light.
The film emphasizes visual storytelling over dialogue, showcasing the purity of the mountains Elif explores and the poignant memories evoked by Mehmet's decrepit childhood home as he cares for his dying father. Sound also plays a crucial role, with Mehmet's experimental compositions incorporating his father's final breaths, adding a deeply personal layer to his artistic expression. Oyku Karayel and Metin Akdulger deliver powerful performances, conveying profound internal conflict with minimal dialogue or overt dramatics.
While this introspective approach might test the patience of viewers seeking more overt conflict, it effectively illustrates that true healing often originates from within. The characters' decision to venture beyond their familiar routines and urban confines allows them to confront their inner turmoil, fostering a path towards personal and creative renewal, enabling them to move forward rather than remain static.
