We are immediately drawn into Manuk's world with the fluttering butterfly at the film's onset, a symbol of the fleeting nature of childhood innocence. It is the only thing of colour throughout the entire film, while sepia tones dominate the remainder. The dull colours of brown and yellow effectively represent the town's poverty, destruction of war and the inevitable boredom we the audience see, to which Manuk seems oblivious. His wild imagination creates a playground out of the destruction. He entertains himself by building toys out of war refuse, playing an idealised game of war with his imagined father. We are invited into Manuk's world at moments, however, through the use of the muffled train sound and low camera angle as he stands gazing admirably up at the tanks as they pass by on the train. The writer cleverly engages the audience through the development of emotions for Manuk, as though he were a real human child instead of just a computer generated image. We enjoy the adventure Manuk is on, laugh at his quirky movements and fantasy games, marvel at his creativity; but we also fear for him at the train rushes past, afraid that the foreboding music foreshadows some violent fortune. We breathe a sigh of relief as he returns home, but again are filled with sadness and empathy for Manuk as he pulls out his father's shiny dog tags, a sign that his father has been killed in action. The glean of the metal, coupled with the bird's eye shot could be a symbolic sign of Manuk's father watching over him as he sleeps. It is a beautiful story which portrays the delicate line between childhood and adulthood, as fragile as the symbolic butterfly, for Manuk will never be the same when his mother explains the true significant of the contents of his "birthday gift".
1 out of 1 found this helpful.
Was this review helpful? Sign in to vote.
Permalink