Hesitation wounds are scars of tentative, self-inflicted injuries, usually found on arms and wrists, that could be indicative of irresolute but existent suicidal tendencies in stricken individuals. In Selman Nacar’s Turkish language film, Hesitation Wound, they become a vital aspect to contend with in the defence proceedings in a murder case. Can an individual inclined towards self-harm kill another human being? On a metaphorical level, they stand for the equivocation and vacillation of essential human morals and principles and the idea of justice itself.
Are these values to be cherished more than being able to save an innocent life, even if for one’s own professional gain and success rather than any altruistic motives? Hesitation Wound is an open-ended wringer that refrains from being judgmental about its compromised characters or the many inconsistencies in the legal system. It doesn’t offer any moral certitudes to its audience either but does leave them with something to chew on, on human nature and its fickleness. The Turkey, Spain, Romania and France co-production premiered at the 80th Venice International Film Festival and has covered the global festival circuit—Zurich, Sydney, MAMI, Red Lorry, and Singapore among others—it is now available to rent in India on BookMyShow Stream and Prime Video.
Set in Usak in Turkey, and bookended by its magnificent landscape, it unfolds over less than 24 hours and is centred on Canan (Tulin Ozen), a criminal lawyer, constantly moving between the hospital and the court; caught between debating with her sister Belgin (Gulcin Kultur Sahin) on a pivotal decision about her ailing, comatose mother, seeking medical help for her own stomach ulcers that could turn into cancer in the face of neglect, and foisting off patronising colleagues while defending a murder suspect, Musa (Ogulcan Arman Uslu) who has unresolved family issues of his own that can well alter the direction of the case. As if that weren’t enough, Canan’s car needs to be fixed at the earliest by the mechanic. Meanwhile, the judge (Vedat Erincin) is dealing with a personal emergency, his niece is in critical condition following an accident.
Nacar crafts a taut and terse narrative that blends the unexpected twists and turns and engaging rhetoric of the legal trial with the suspense and intrigue of an investigative thriller, the emotional flourishes of a family drama with the philosophical concerns of a social commentary. It makes for an eminently engaging viewing but works the best as a character study of the complex Canan holding herself together even as life seems set to derail. There are fascinating layers to her, communicated persuasively on screen by Tulin Ozen, especially the calm and composure in the face of the storm brewing for her on all possible fronts of life, the silence and stoicism and sense of control that almost obfuscates her many vulnerabilities.
A bleeding nose is the only giveaway of the internalised turbulence. While Belgin is more practical, in favour of taking the hard decision on their mother’s life, letting her go and donating her organs for other lives to thrive, Canan’s never-say-die spirit makes her still hope against hope for her recovery despite the brain death. Her reaction is also driven by the fact that while Belgin had been taking care of the mother, she wasn’t around enough in the pursuit of her own dreams.
Is she trying to hold on to her mother to make up for the lost time? She isn’t willing to give up on her client either, harnessing his own bruised psyche to draw sympathy and help get him respite from life imprisonment. It’s fascinating how her decision about her mother and the outcome of the case sync up eventually. A finale you may not have seen coming but could there have been a better way to round things off than to leave one thinking about personal and institutional corruption around us? Disquieting yet strangely satisfying; a wrong that feels so right.
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