Synopsis: Standing on a hilltop in the Turkish countryside, you would assume 11-year-old Zephyr is staring boldly at the future; in fact, all she cares about is the past. Indifferent to the immense beauty that surrounds her, Zephyr’s thoughts are punctuated by departures.
Her mother, Ay, a globetrotting activist, has carved deep holes in her daughter’s emotional stability owing to her frequent absences. Left to the care of her stoic grandparents, Zephyr struggles with an unremitting sense of loss. With no father, and starved increasingly of her mother’s attention, she is stuck in pre-teen limbo, apprehensive of womanhood and unsure of her fledgling identity. At times, Zephyr seems willfully unfeeling. Friendships are shied away from and responsibilities shirked; she is constantly impressionable and plagued by insecurity. The only thing that comes full circle in Zephyr’s rickety world is the procession of day into night, imbuing this haunting film with a quietly hypnotic rhythm.
Will her mother ever show up? Zephyr is devastated by a false alarm, a young horticulturalist she sees at a distance. Unable to deal with the reality of her longing, Zephyr finds refuge in a sequence of dreams. She conjures images of her mother as smiling and supportive, but the audience sees something starker, an unsettling projection of a child’s loneliness. Sadly, Zephyr’s vision remains chimerical, until one day something happens….
Building on a coming-of-age story, director Belma Bas chooses the perfect moment to lift the lid on Zephyr’s psyche. What follows is both gripping and unexpected. Zephyr’s failure to develop any adult emotions, including the capacity for guilt, means there is no telling what she might do. Far more complex than its simple structure suggests, "Zephyr" is a mesmerizing mood piece that captures the inner life of a troubled child. [Synopsis by Dimitri Eipides/Toronto International Film Festival]