A Turkish parable with a Turkish Jude Law is a Turkish delight.
A couple thoughts:
The stations of the people are prominent, not their individuality.
It’s slow, noting and lingering those aspects of life we usually pass quickly over, whether images or conversations, lending the film its haunting quality.
It’s about the stories we tell ourselves, the stories we live instead, and how those stories are written in others’ lives whether we want them to be or not. What can be done to change the tenor and substance of the tired stories of a tired people living in a tired world?