We watched Ceylan's Once Upon a Time in Anatolia tonight, and while admiring the artistry of its playing-out, the top-notch ensemble acting, and the cinematography, it has to be admitted that some 150 minutes of screen time in which small things happen at a relatively slow pace is somewhat trying. Even the story that's told in a serial fashion throughout by the Prosecutor turns out to have only a so-so fulfilment. And quite what's with the long last section in which an autopsy is done, slowly, and thankfully mostly out of sight, I'm not sure.
Ah well, it takes all sorts of movies to make the world of films. While I'm kind of glad I saw it (my other half found it tedious), I think it could have done with some cutting without losing anything of its quality. Scenes in which the dialogue consists of mind-numbingly mundane words, the sorts of words that everyone's forgotten two seconds later in real life, don't allow the brain to engage in anything but puzzlement.