Review: Mustang

Mustang (15)

France/Germany/Turkey/Qatar 2015 97 mins Subtitles Dir: Deniz Gamze Ergüven Starring: Günes Sensoy, Doga Zeynep Doguslu, Tugba Sunguroglu, Elit Iscan, Ilayda Akdogan, Nihal G. Koldas, Ayberk Pekcan

It’s The Virgin Suicides, with a dash of Dogtooth and The Wolfpack, relocated to provincial northern Turkey as first-time director Deniz Gamze Ergüven teams up with Disorder writer/director Alice Winocour to unload both barrels at a hypocritical patriarchal society that conspires to suppress burgeoning adolescent female sexuality. If this sounds a tad off-putting to those seeking a jolly night out at the pictures, be reassured that Mustang is more fun than a film touching on forced marriage, sexual abuse and suicide has any right to be. That’s because of the excellent performances Ergüven coaxes from her mostly non-professional young cast as the sparky, close-knit sibling quintet whose resourceful resistance proves rather more crowd-pleasing than the anticipated cowed capitulation. What’s a horny teenage girl to do when locked up and subjected to virginity tests to ensure her purity? Why, sneak out under cover of darkness and take it up the arse, of course.  

In ascending order of age from around 11 to 17, Lale (Günes Sensoy), Nur (Doga Zeynep Doguslu), Ece (Elit Iscan), Selma (Tugba Sunguroglu) and Sonay (Ilayda Akdogan) are long-haired, free-spirited sisters who’ve been raised by their grandmother (Nihal G. Koldas) after being orphaned at an early age. On the way home from school on a sunny summer’s day, they clamber on some boys’ shoulders for a play fight in the sea and then, perhaps rather symbolically, scrump apples from a farmer’s Edenic orchard. But a disapproving crone of a neighbour has spotted their innocent frolicking and reported back to granny, who accuses them of pleasuring themselves on the boys’ necks. Enter stern uncle Erol (Ayberk Pekcan), who orders those virginity tests and sets about turning the house into a fortress to prevent further scandal. Now the girls find themselves confined in what narrating Lale describes as “wife factory”, forced to wear “shapeless shit-coloured dresses” while being instructed in home-making skills by a succession of matronly women. The intention is clearly to marry them off to acceptable suitors as quickly as possible to forestall further shame being brought upon the family by their slutty, westernised ways.

Conservative Turkish critics have not been best pleased with Ergüven for her portrayal of a reactionary rural Muslim community in which men are unhealthily obsessed with policing female sexuality and crush any resistance to pre-ordained roles. But while Mustang certainly has much to arouse liberal ire, it’s also nuanced in its feminist condemnation, with a certain cross-generation solidarity developing between the women. Indeed, one might even accuse it of glossing over the real unpleasantness, which is not depicted explicitly. Plot contrivances are also required to facilitate the pat, unsatisfactory ending. As a consequence, however, this is a film that’s full of life, energy and unexpected comedy stemming from the girls’ spirited rebellion, making it hard to suppress a cheer at each of their minor victories.