Aylin Gökmen

From the ocean, a volcanic island rises into steamy mist. The black rock of the earth stands in sharp contrast to the billowing vapor that hovers and drifts above the surface. A narrator describes how the island’s first inhabitants sought to explain the violent eruption by attributing the devastation to the wrath of angry gods. With breathtaking black-and-white cinematography, this poetic exploration considers the human relationship to this volatile land, where residents live alongside the looming threat of eruption with reverence, fear, and awe. A collection of scenes where dark and light miraculously coexist illuminates both the physical and spiritual landscapes of this extraordinary place, where life endures the perils of the natural world.

Vakıf, a 60-year-old Kurdish man who grew up in a nomadic tribe in the mountains of southeast Turkey, recalls moments from his youth that have shaped his life. He takes us back to his idyllic childhood with his mother, his first love found in a cotton field and lost in the woods, and the mistreatment suffered at the hands of the police, in a cold and dark place.

An excursion into the lost woods of childhood.