Hitting the Wall

I've wanted to see this film since it came out, but after it left the theater it was tough to get ahold of. Tonight I finally watched the much-acclaimed Head On, or "Gegen die Wand" by Turkish German director Fatih Akin. Having not known much about the premise other than that it was about a Turkish immigrant community in Germany, I was unprepared for the movie's full impact. Watching it was like standing on the sidewalk and being grabbed by someone reaching out the window of a passing bus, hanging by the wrists and watching the ground moving below, waiting to hit the pavement. The first part takes place in the dark underworld of Hamburg, where the two main characters are living grimy and tragic lives. Sibel, the rebellious daughter of a strict Muslim family, and Cahit, a washed-up alcoholic with violent tendencies, have both hit rock bottom. They meet in a mental ward after they've both attempted suicide, and are thrown together by Sibel's determination to marry a Turkish man in a last-ditch effort to appease her stubborn and abusive family. What follows is an unpredictable love story.

The topic of a cultural "homeland" pops up throughout the film. Sibel and and Cahit speak only in German to each other, and when Sibel's family comments on Cahit's poor grasp on the Turkish language, he says he "threw it away." More than anything though, the sense of being caught between cultures comes out in the claustrophobic mood of the film. Stephanie Zacharek wrote in Salon, "Head On isn't strictly a culture-clash movie, possibly because for Akin (who was born in Germany of Turkish parents), the issues of displacement for any Middle Easterner living in Europe are a given -- they're almost too basic to be the subject of a movie." Turkey isn't really in the Middle East, but I agree with the rest of this statement. Akin is telling his story from the inside-out, not the outside-in. And instead of being the focus of the plot, Sibel and Cahit's displacement is more like a cloud of doom that hangs over their self-destructive lives. But it somehow also leads them forward, and after a dramatic turn of events, Sibel finds herself in Istanbul cleaning hotel rooms.

Akin manages to communicate addiction, poverty, and the struggle for female autonomy in a bald, visceral way. I don't think I've ever watched a movie that made me writhe with the same kind of discomfort. Watching Head On forces its viewers to understand what it's like to die violently and then try to live again.