Two Lines

Twenty-something couple Mert and Selin could be the poster-kids for young modern Turks. Well groomed, wealthy and educated, they live unmarried in a tastefully furnished Istanbul apartment. Selin is a business-woman and Mert a photographer. However, something is distinctly wrong; uncomfortable silences frequently emerge and despite her tolerant attitude, Selin is secretly getting tired of Mert’s ineptitude at performing daily practicalities. Plus, unbeknownst to his better half, Mert has formed a habit at peeping at the sexy young ladies across the street. When summer arrives, the couple decide to take a road-trip to the Aegean coast. The sun is shiny, the water crystal clear, the roads endless. Thanks to the holiday spirit, Selin starts loosening up but alas the tension between the couple escalates and their attempts at communication fail tragic-comically. A surprising detour entertains the possibility of saving this relationship: a rundown hotel, perfect strangers and the unburdening of the roles and identities imposed by their rigidly routine lives. Suddenly Mert and Selin are alive and talkative as never before, but at the cost of dire consequences.
Selim Evci’s début is a suspenseful and harrowing tale of gender dynamics between two urbanites who are victims of Turkey’s age-old issue: being stuck between the values of tradition and modernity. (EY)