A Heartbreaking Tale of Childhood and Exploitation

“Empire of the Rabbits” is a haunting exploration of childhood innocence lost to poverty and exploitation. Premiering at the 28th Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival, the film is a powerful, slow-burning drama that explores the harsh realities faced by children trapped in a world they cannot escape.

Set in a nameless, desolate countryside, the film follows young Musa (Alpay Kaya) and his father, Beko (Sermet Yesil). After his wife’s accidental death, Beko struggles to survive. With few options left, he decides to exploit his son to gain a government disability pension. To do so, his son must pretend to be disabled. His teacher in this tragic game is Nergis (Perla Palamutcuogulları), a girl of his age also forced to mimic disability. Together, they form a bond in their shared suffering, creating a fantasy world to escape their grim reality. 

Musa’s dream is to build a rabbit empire, a refuge for rabbits he saves from traps and hound races. This empire is more than a child’s fantasy—it becomes their only escape from the adult world that seeks to control and use them. The film is a poignant tale of resistance, showing how two children use imagination to fight against a system that exploits them.

The narrative of “Empire of the Rabbits” is slow-paced, with few dialogues and mostly “dumb” silence of protagonist that is sharply contrasted with adults’ manipulative and exploitive harsh words. In a film where the narrative development blends well with semiotics, compositions and cinematography, the sparse use of dialogue is refreshing and respectful towards the audience. Spectators can take their own time to think and absorb the feature that unfolds before their eyes.

From the very opening scene, the director brings a sense of uneasiness that expands into gloom throughout the film. The plot is poignantly painted with skilful use of semiotics. The innocence and helplessness of rabbits are compared to all the children in the movie who are forced to adopt a life of handicappedness. Not only the rabbits but the hounds are also victims; their defiance and vagrancy are punished with death. It brings ominous foreshadowing of an unexpected ending.

The cinematography by Claudia Becerril Bulos perfectly complements the film’s tone. Long, wide shots of barren landscapes fill the screen, emphasizing the desolation surrounding the characters. The empty, skeletal trees are a visual metaphor for the children—both have potential for life but are stifled by their environment. The use of a greenish-yellow filter amplifies the film’s somber mood, heightening the sense of decay and hopelessness.

Alpay Kaya’s performance as Musa is a standout. His portrayal of the quiet, burdened boy is powerful. Kaya conveys a deep sense of emotional weight through his expressions, showing the internal conflict of a child caught between fantasy and the harshness of reality. His eyes, filled with pain, communicate far more than words ever could. Kaya’s mature performance adds a level of authenticity to the film, making Musa’s struggle feel all the more real.

Tokmak’s direction is sensitive and empathetic, particularly toward the child actors. His handling of their emotions is delicate, capturing both their vulnerability and resilience. The director is known for addressing social issues affecting children, and this film is no exception. It serves as a potent commentary on child exploitation, the cycle of poverty, and the way society often abandons its most vulnerable members.

“Empire of the Rabbits” is a must-see for anyone interested slow and meditative cinema that is socially conscious. Tokmak’s direction and Kaya’s performance elevate this film into something truly special—a poignant, sobering reflection on the exploitation of children and the loss of innocence.

First appeared in the Asian Movie Pulse.