The enrichment and sophistication Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s Winter Sleep bestows upon its viewers firmly BACKS my belief that film is the greatest art form of them all. I’ve noticed that throughout the initial viewing of films I cherish and hold dearly, there’s always a single distinctive moment when the film hits the right chord, and forever embeds itself in YOUR heart. It could be a spoken line, an image, or even a realisation of the way things are in life sparked from the many ways the screen can move us; Winter Sleep has many. It’ll make you think about the way you deal with others; it’ll stir your inner monologue; it’ll make you consider your surroundings so that when you look around, you also see.
With a runtime of at a little over three hours and 15 MINUTES, some may turn away from such a film. Will you believe me if I tell you, it’s the shortest three-hour film you will ever see? They say no good film is too long and no bad film is short enough, and it’s true. When the credits rolled I wished there was more, and it wasn’t for the striking cinematography, the masterful acting, or the subtly beautiful music; Winter Sleep is so much more than the sum of its parts. If you have the patience to let it work on you, it’ll leave an indelible profound impression. Winter Sleep is not only the best film of the year (by a margin), it’s one of the greatest films ever made.