İsmail Necmi scores with biographic actuality genre

Since childhood, Necmi was drawn to filmmaking but realized that the Turkish system for succeeding in this profession was “awful” and fraught with obstacles. Financial reality and parental pressure convinced him to study for a law degree at İstanbul University, and he articled for two years before moving into media and cultural circles. Making television programs, teaching photography and being a high-profile photographer were only stepping stones to putting together his first feature film.

Petra Woschniak, his lead character, was a German neighbor in İstanbul. That's how real and autobiographical this film is! In the thrall of the city's demimonde of sparsely furnished digs, drug dealers and Beyoğlu night clubs, Petra was an illegal émigré denied resident status on the death of her Turkish husband. The loss of her twin sister to cancer and her return to a demure, pastoral life form Necmi's plot. He borrowed money to purchase lights, cameras and film props. Finances did not run to professional actors or actresses. Petra met Herold, a masked cross dresser (and her alter ego) at a party but deliberately did not liaise over scripts and roles for several months. Herold is credited with playing “itself.” "It took three years to make this film," Necmi explained. "There was no way I could retain a professional cast for so long."

As the film unfolds, Petra abandons her libertine, freestyle living mode and returns to rural Germany in her role as a caregiver to her dying twin. The ambiguous factors in her life don't just plot reality against fantasy, fiction versus real life. Instead, the film deals with grasping the nettle of life as death encroaches. Wine-sipping Herold challenges Petra's inner emotions, recollections and contrasting lifestyles via bizarre talking sessions. Necmi emphasizes that these are not “therapy” sessions and Herold's mask is less about fetish than a symbol of grey scale interludes in life.

It is hard to find a middle way in this film: you love it or hate it. It contains little that is striking in the way of life on the periphery but throws in gender issues and poignant scenes with dogs, opaque subjects for Turks. "The dogs are also our actors," explained associate producer, Dieter Sauter. But like truth and fiction, Petra's life accentuates contrasts, between the spontaneity and superficiality of bohemian İstanbul and a calming spiritual intensity experienced in her sister Karen's German village. There is closure and finality in Karen's death followed by a more mature resolve toward reality and responsibilities.

Woschniak is amazing. This is no actress striving to imprint reality on her role. She is living it, and you need constant reminders that the film scripts a bold new genre as biographic actuality. What does not come across in the film is her paranoia at working in front of the camera. "I was terrified," she admitted. One of Necmi's inherent skills was to overcome this phobia and encourage her raw, inborn talent. Much of the film uses flashback, scarcely an innovative technique, but it reinforces the underlying theme that life and death are woven from the same fibers.

Even if you do not know İstanbul intimately, the street scenes pulse with energy, local color and peoplescapes. Furthermore, how refreshing to see a Turkish film with a global perspective, a departure from stereotyped backdrops, migration themes, prison or social injustice genres that, for non-Turks, tediously mutate in Turkish cinema. The film's original theme song is by Mercan Dede, and Serkan Alkan has produced a memorable music score.

Numerous awards have brought "Should I Really Do It" well-earned recognition and global audiences. Necmi's next film with In Works and co-producer Ayşe Ünal and associate producer Sauter is in the making. Keep up with this innovative contemporary filmmaker at www.inworks-istanbul.com or www.ismailnecmi.com.