15/07/2011
Lee Griffiths / Little White Lies
Honey Review

A film full of grace, fine performances and a natural, subtle beauty.

Turkey’s 2010 Oscar entry is a prequel of sorts in Semih Kaplanoglu’s trilogy focusing on the central character of Yusef (a poet returning home in 2007’s Egg, and a young graduate in 2008’s Milk). In Honey, Yusef is a young boy of few words, barely able to communicate with anyone except his beekeeper father, with whom he has a special bond.

His isolation at school is made all the more severe thanks to his particularly potent stammer, which prevents Yusef from reading aloud in class and obtaining one of the teacher’s merit ribbons he so desperately craves.

At home though, and in hushed tones, Yuesef manages to speak to his father without stuttering and stumbling over his words, but when his Father goes in search of more honeycombs in increasingly perilous locations in the woods, and does not return, young Yusef is left with no one else to communicate with, not even his mother.

Kaplanoglu ‘s contemplative drama is a very sweet and brilliantly performed entry in the director’s Yusef trilogy, full of glorious photography that makes full use of natural light and static, sometimes curious camera angles that make Bal a visual treat.

The film tends to be a little academic in its execution at times, especially during certain moments in the second half of the film when the father disappears. At times the film tends to linger (a bit too frequently and a bit too long) on numerous sequences of exceptional beauty that lack any real narrative drive, so the film often grinds to a halt, which isn’t helped by the fact that the central character doesn’t speak during this section of the film.

However, Kaplanoglu manages to pull it back in the end with a haunting finale which ultimately makes Honey a rewarding experience and a film full of grace, fine performances and a natural, subtle beauty.