Aydin Dogu Demirkol in The Wild Pear Tree (Cinema Guild)

In classic coming-of age-stories, a calling comes as a result of identity reaffirmation, which becomes a starting point for the protagonist to face the future. So, what happens next? The new film by Turkish director Nuri Bilge Ceylan insightfully explores this scenario by centering on Sinan (Aydin Dogu Demirkol), a recent college graduate aspiring to become a writer who returns home. His current purpose is to find a sponsor to help him publish his first novel (it has the same name of the film). Drifting between the city of Çanakkale and his hometown in the countryside, Sinan does not fit in anywhere. He’s still too young to disregard romantic ideals but is grown-up and cultivated enough to act with cynicism as a way of acting superior.

Ceylan enriches his story with multiple perspectives from different characters, including Sinan’s parents, Idris (Murat Cemcir) and Asuman (Bennu Yildirimlar). The relationship between them and Sinan is usually confrontational. Idris is a gambler with a lot of debt and who works as a teacher. Asuman suffers the consequences of Idris irresponsible actions, though she defends her husband when the son criticizes him. None of them, though, understands Sinan. It doesn’t help that the son’s natural inclination is to constantly contradict anyone, no matter the subject. His belief in his own talent propels his intellectual arrogance toward others, whether they are members of his family, an ex-girlfriend, a famous writer, or a potential sponsor.

The Wild Pear Tree is a movie full of conversations more than action, revolving around all sorts of subjects from literature and religion to shared memories. These conversations take place with a tight balance of humor and seriousness. Every new character introduced claims a vital spot in the narrative by providing another perspective that rescues the film from becoming self-indulgent and one-note. With every discussion, Sinan has the effect of irritating or even offending others, and not necessarily because his arguments are smarter. His contrarian attitude reflects the inner truths of someone looking for a justification to either deny his dream or regain his faith in it. In other words, the fear of adult life impacts his actions and expectations.

This is the kind of contemplative film that never builds up to a major revelation or a shocking event, at least not on the surface. However, the film is not tiresome even if it takes three hours to fully develop. The curious epic running time (it could be shorter, easily) serves as one of its main virtues. Ceylan holds your attention scene by scene. The director adds his own stamp of artistic flourishes that subtly infiltrate his realistic approach to this slice of life character study, where surrealistic moments merge with the day-to-day situations.

There are some cryptic and disturbing symbols and a suspenseful chase scene that culminates in Sinan hiding inside a Trojan Horse monument. There are also repetitive slow zooms and capricious musical motifs and many instances of rapturous beauty where the cinematography by Gökhan Tiryaki captures a grandiose landscape. All uplift the film. Ceylan, with good timing, knows when to catch elusive details, like a stolen kiss or a perfectly executed sequence of Sinan taking a phone call while he’s walking from country to city.

The young man refuses to reduce his work-in-progress in two sentences but clarifies pretentiously his book in an extended conversation with a writer he admires. By contrast, Ceylan’s work avoids indulging in Sinan’s youthful anguish. Through the conviction of a filmmaker who doesn’t pretend to explain all ambiguities, the movie fortunately cannot be more different than its protagonist. Instead of having an answer for everything, The Wild Pear Tree humbly portrays how wise is to appreciate varied perspectives without contradicting them.