After two of us had exchanged gratitude for cinema at the Cut (like a Plat de Jour, we are given an eclectic and good range of films we’d not know of or opt to see, and the delicious tapas food) we saw one such film.
Mustang, set in the countryside of Turkey, relays the story of 5 girls arriving at pubescence. Told mainly through the eyes of the youngest girl who watches, as the old ways of arranged marriage, accepting the fate, rebells against the strong will and joy mixed tragedy of escaping the limitations of their culture. Two are married off, one a love match, one unhappy arrangement (‘You will learn to fall in love with him. I did’), one kills herself and two escape. The patriarchal uncle, firmly in the old way. Are there really football matches only for women? The grandmother, swooning yet supporting, but throwing stones at the electricity pylon to cut the current, so stop the Uncle from seeing the match and their 5 children in the crowd. A scene where a newly married girl, with no blood on the sheet to confirm virginity, is taken off to hospital to have her hymn checked out, looks out into the world of her bed resigned while a doctor investigates.
‘When is this set?’, was a comment I over heard at the end.