Cherry

Directed by

Yakup Yaşar

Cherry pays homage to the cinematic language of the acclaimed Iranian filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami, whose works wander through the hidden recesses of human existence. In his films, Kiarostami masterfully portrays humanity’s perpetual oscillation between being, ceasing to be, and the liminal state in between. Reality and fiction emerge not as opposing forces but as reflections of one another, inviting the audience into the unsettling illusion that reality itself may be no more than a carefully woven narrative. Consequently, unreality transcends the boundaries of mere fiction, and the notion of destiny becomes an open philosophical inquiry. Likewise, Cherry is less concerned with whether destiny exists than with the possibility that destiny itself unfolds as an endless cycle.
The cyclical nature of fate constitutes the central backbone of the film. Reflecting the intimate life of an impoverished family struggling to raise two children, the narrative examines the phenomenon of destiny through its protagonist, Zeynep, exploring what Milan Kundera famously described as “the unbearable lightness of being.”
The monotony of life and the unattainability of the ideals imposed by poverty gradually push Zeynep to the brink of emotional collapse. Through her gaze, the audience witnesses the tragic illusion that death may appear as salvation to those who have failed to reconcile themselves with life within the eternal triangle of birth, existence, and death.
Beneath its narrative, the film subtly addresses the conflict of identity. Echoing Jean-Paul Sartre’s distinction between one’s authentic existence and the existence defined through the eyes of others, the story suggests that individuals are seldom entirely free—even when making decisions concerning their own lives. It ultimately argues that the longing for death during life’s darkest moments cannot be regarded as a just or truthful response to suffering.
As deprivation drives Zeynep toward the edge of existence, she begins to perceive death as a form of personal liberation. Yet the concept of destiny catches hold of her thoughts like a hook. Throughout the film, through the intertwined experiences of her mother, herself, and her young daughter, the narrative questions whether destiny may, in essence, be singular for all humanity, while only our interpretation of life changes with age and experience.
The sameness of existence awakens within Zeynep the agonizing belief that life might have been happier elsewhere, under different circumstances. That possibility burns quietly within her heart like an ember.
When human beings find themselves thrust into a world they never chose and can no longer make peace with the conditions imposed upon them, death begins to seem like an escape. Standing at the peak of this despair, Zeynep comes to realize that her existence is not defined solely by the identity she has forged for herself, but also by the identities reflected back to her through the eyes of others. The responsibilities imposed upon her as both wife and mother—and the painful awareness that her own death would inevitably demand a price from those she loves—become a burden too immense for her soul to bear.
It is precisely at this moment of inner transformation that the film reaches its conclusion. Echoing the profound proposition articulated in Abbas Kiarostami’s Taste of Cherry—that the immense weight of life can sometimes be lightened by the smallest moments of joy—the ending offers something far greater than the sweetness of a single cherry. It opens a quiet yet hopeful doorway where love and genuine human compassion become the true source of redemption:
“To live is to embark upon destiny’s journey alongside those who share love with sincerity, despite all the burdens life demands us to carry.”
The journey of human destiny is never one of absolute peace. Every individual is tested by the invisible weight they carry within. Cherry suggests that accepting the severity of this existential trial may well be the first step toward lightening its burden. For it is the weight we refuse to acknowledge that ultimately crushes us. Only sincere love possesses the quiet power to lessen that burden.
Ultimately, Zeynep’s journey—one that initially invites death onto the stage of the viewer’s consciousness—comes to rest in a gentle, life-affirming pause, leaving behind not despair, but the fragile possibility of hope.