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It is, of course, boring. Pirselimoğlu is not interested in the plot, but in the free-flowing time, lethargic characters, the torturous hopelessness of loneliness and the deep bond that is born of silence. This film is a typical Turkish contemplative drama with a static camera, an emptied plot component and "motionless" performances, where what matters is not what is said, but what radiates from the framed space. I think that for today's viewers, this branch of cinematography is purgatory, while for me it is an inner poetry that is very difficult to get into, but which, in the moment of understanding, plays on a rich network of emotions and senses, in which the motif of hair plays the role of a characteristic symbol-non-symbol. Hair is the driving force behind the film, at the same time characterizing its clinging to the passing time and the approaching end. Futility, the impossibility of stopping the flow, but at the same time a stubborn effort to change "something". Pirselimoğlu feels a little emptier to me than Ceylan or Kaplanoglu, but Hair is still a captivating meditation on death and desire. (2012.03.26)