Movies of War

Fırat Yücel is a documentary producer and editor who lives and works in Amsterdam and Istanbul. He is also the curator behind the video series Altyazı Fasikül: Free Cinema, which is part of the Altyazı Cinema Association, dedicated to supporting political film and video makers at risk in Turkey and elsewhere. His work centers on collective filmmaking and resistance against censorship, while his documentaries focus on topics such as exile, surveillance, and the right to the city, employing forms that include the video essay, desktop documentary, and biopic. Yücel is part of the BAK Cell, Utrecht, in the Fellowship for Situated Practice. The feature documentary he co-directed with Image Acts Collective, “Translating Ulysses” (2023), received awards at Bloomsday Film Festival in Dublin and FIC.UBA in Buenos Aires. His latest work is “Happiness”. A Song Without Home is screening at Thessaloniki Documentary Film Festival The documentary begins with footage of war viewed from a desktop screen, while various images from Twitter, Google, and other social media appear in quick succession. Writing on the screen, initially in Turkish and later translated into English, states that the protagonist spends fourteen hours per day looking at screens, even more than during the pandemic, and cannot sleep at night. Some suggest that the blue light may be responsible, yet he knows better. A video of Palestinians protesting at Amsterdam train station, explosions in Gaza, and searches for ways to fall asleep appear next on the screen. Shortly afterward, another text explains that the short essentially functions as a diary, as the protagonist reveals that he has discovered others suffering from the same problem. Soon afterward, another video presents Congolese protesters in Canada speaking about the role the United States plays in the destruction of their country. Suggestions about melatonin follow, yet a protest sign referring to another sleepless individual, a mother with a small baby, makes it even clearer that the screens themselves are not truly the problem. Meanwhile, news of destruction and death continues to arrive relentlessly, and the insomnia persists despite the many attempts to cure it. The commentary that emerges is particularly palpable. While people in the Middle East struggle simply to remain alive, individuals in Europe wrestle with insomnia for psychological reasons, seeking solutions such as detox cafes in a desperate search for relief. Nevertheless, Fırat Yücel’s approach never becomes mocking or ironic. Instead, he emphasizes how the impact of events unfolding around the world can affect people even when they do not experience the consequences of war directly. As we watch the protagonist, who is essentially the director himself, reading about the blights of war across the globe, the sense of empathy becomes inevitable. Nations often discussed as abstract geopolitical entities are revealed instead as places where real people live and suffer exploitation, while countless individuals become victims of global power games. Within this context, the search for a cure for insomnia intensifies the emotional dimension, allowing the narrative to move beyond what might otherwise be dismissed as merely the concerns of the privileged. The editing approach, handled by Yücel himself, is also particularly interesting. Despite the video essay format, the pace remains quite fast, with cuts arriving one after another, effectively mirroring the speed of the internet and the rapid flow of information through our screens. At the same time, the message becomes even more eloquent through this technique, especially when phrases such as “institutional complicity in systemic murder” appear across the screen. Within its experimental structure, “Happiness” ultimately emerges as a surprisingly accessible documentary, one that highlights its dual narrative with clarity and maintains attention from beginning to end. Tags:Firat YucelHappinessThessaloniki Documentary Festival