Verge

Fikret has always been aware of the roar of cars streaming back and forth on the motorway outside the flat where she grew up and where she now lives with her husband Halil. But now it's clear that she's much more alert to the monotonous rumbling below the window. One of the car engines is different from all the others and the sound of it fills her with joy: it's Halil returning from a business trip. But, this time, the waiting seems interminable and the young woman begins to fear the worst. The days of uncertainty are marked off by the loud highway metronome, and neither her parents nor a close friend can drown out the noise. Fikret begins to lose herself, first in the empty flat, then in her own memories and imaginings, in which she tries to conjure up images of her husband and her happy childhood. This feature debut by the Turkish directing duo captures the yearning one feels for an absent loved one, employing an unconventional approach that only increases the sense of urgency. The film score is replaced by the harrowing, repetitive sound of car engines echoing through the apartment, which is cleverly conceived as a labyrinth of crucial moments in one particular life. (Karlovy Vary International Film Festival)