Name: Private Lesson
Genre: Comedy, Romance
Released: 2022-12-16T00:00:00+00:00
Cast: Bensu Soral, Halit Özgür Sarı, Helin Kandemir, Rami Narin, Hatice Aslan

The opening scene of Kıvanç Baruönü’s Private Lesson (2022) sets the tone with Azra (Bensu Soral) awkwardly squeezing into a too-tight blazer, her mirror reflection revealing equal parts determination and discomfort. This is a film that knows it’s asking us to suspend disbelief—Azra poses as a private tutor while actually coaching students on life and love—but commits so hard to its premise that we’re willing to go along for the ride.

Baruönü’s direction is sharpest when leaning into the absurdity of Azra’s double life. The film’s best moments come when her carefully constructed facade threatens to crumble, like a scene where she’s caught mid-lie by a skeptical parent (Hatice Aslan), her eyes darting between the door and the window as if plotting an escape route. Soral’s performance is the anchor here, delivering a mix of vulnerability and mischief that makes Azra endearing even at her most manipulative.

The romance with Burak (Halit Özgür Sarı) unfolds in fits and starts, with Baruönü favoring quick, witty exchanges over drawn-out emotional beats. A particular standout is the scene where Azra and Burak bicker over a takeout order, their playful banter cutting through the tension of their professional dynamic. The dialogue here is snappy, romantic even in its chaos—a rarity in rom-coms that often prioritize grand gestures over genuine connection.

Yet Private Lesson stumbles when it tries to juggle too many subplots. The supporting cast—particularly Helin Kandemir as Azra’s skeptical friend Hande and Rami Narin as the clueless Utku—lacks the same chemistry or depth, leaving their storylines feeling tacked on rather than integral. The film’s pacing also falters in its third act, rushing through emotional resolutions that feel earned more by plot necessity than character development.

What ultimately saves Private Lesson is its willingness to embrace its own absurdity. Baruönü’s visual style—think soft-focus close-ups during romantic moments, contrasted with frenetic handheld shots during chaotic ones—keeps the tone light even when the story stumbles. The film also benefits from a killer soundtrack, blending nostalgic pop tracks with original compositions that heighten both the humor and heart.

In the end, Private Lesson is a charming but uneven rom-com that succeeds more on the strength of its lead performance than its storytelling.