Filmmaker Zeki Demirkubuz: An Oscar would be a fluke

The film, adapted from the novel of the same name by Nahid Sırrı Örik, presents some notable firsts for the master director.

“Kıskanmak” is a period drama, and its meticulous shooting as well as the wide plot scenarios and shifts it makes between scenes are among the new challenges that Demirkubuz took in this film. As it is, Demirkubuz, whose previous directing credits include “Yazgı” (Fate), “Bekleme Odası” (The Waiting Room) and “Kader” (Destiny), himself notes that in terms of style and technique, “I am going to bring my filmmaking to the level of well-made Hollywood movies.”

But those who are fans of Demirkubuz’ own interest in the dark and gloomier aspects of life should not be worried; we have not lost this director to mainstream films! It is fair to say, though, that Demirkubuz is firmly opposed to trying to veil technical shortcomings and inabilities in films by focusing largely on ideology. We had a chance to speak with the director about some of the recent innovations in film, and some of the ideas he’s been churning around in his head for years now.

The copy of the film shown to the press (and thus the one shown in theaters) is very different visually and technically than what was shown in Antalya.

This is a long-standing problem. I am getting embarrassed even talking about it. For years now, so much money is spent on these festivals, and still, the problem has not been fixed. You work so hard, and then the whole film is blurred. But we are in 2009 now, film showing ought not to be blurred. And just as how outside pressure is needed to solve issues such as democratization, torture and justice problems, the same can be said for the problems in our movie theaters. I really hope the EU takes up this problem.

“Kıskanmak” seems to be a film that moves away, in terms of style, from the minimalist language of your previous works and approaches a more classic style of cinema. Would it be wrong to say that Zeki Demirkubuz is breaking out of his shell?

Well, really nothing has changed in terms of real issues. In fact, my films have arrived at a tougher, more risk-taking point. One big part of what I did in this film concerned creating a believable period atmosphere. And on this topic, our art team was really quite successful, and for the first time in a long time, I really learned things from people working under me.

Will the aspects of the film that we shall call “new” for you which we saw in “Kıskanmak” continue in your future work?

Yes, they will. In fact, let me add something that may come as “bad news” for some, but which is “good news” for me: I intend to carry this business all the way to the point of well-made Hollywood films. In terms of style and form, cinema for me is embodied in those well-made Hollywood films. Those incredible bits of acting, from Al Pacino, from Jack Nicholson, from Natalie Portman. These are films which don’t enter into aesthete tricks or try to fool people with numbers. I don’t know whether or not I can carry it off, but one day I would like to see my own cinematic work and all of its own issues that it deals with encompass that same sense of believability you encounter in well-made Hollywood films.

For many years, you were accused of misogyny. Do you think this perception might change with this film?

I am not hurt by these charges. The basic thing that pushes me towards making films is the distance I feel between myself and society, general ideologies and generally accepted ideas. The older brother in this film is a bad man when it comes to dealing with Seniha. But if this does not strike you and you see only the things that Seniha has to do to survive as misogynistic, I can bear this accusation. But I won’t shy away from fighting, either. For example, for a long time now, I have been working with “Crime and Punishment.” The point in realization that I have arrived at is this: If you can transcend your own sense of conscience, then the spillage of blood is permissible. It also returns to being an issue of conscience.

Thinking about the book and the film, it seems as though in this film a bit of a concession has been made to the principle of lack of reason, and had the reasons been pursued more, the actual story would have been better…

This may be true if we look at it as a film story, in fact viewers may be in the right here. But this is my reason for existence. First of all, when I place those reasons front and center, the very same viewers who I am trying to make into a piece of the investigation become instead simply viewers abstracted from the screen, which in turn turns the film into page three news. I respect the people who watch my films and count them as every bit as smart, doubtful and interested in the darker sides of life as I am. This being the case, it’s a question of ethics for me, and I am someone who pays the price for seeing it this way. If cinema had not given me the chance to express myself this way, I would not be making films today. On the other hand, due to the postmodern situation we see around us today, we could see something like this transpire: People who are untalented, who do nothing and have nothing to say and who have gotten the chance to make films simply through a bunch of unfair opportunities presented to them could make films that take no responsibility or no real work, and can brush off their films by saying “I made those, let the viewers try to understand.” We see this sort of thing quite regularly, actually. It is something I see all the time in the world of Turkish and European film, in particular.

Despite the fact that you are one of the people who have most earned the right to shoot a film about the events of the Sept. 12, 1980 coup, is your decision still the same not to do so?

Well, let me make this straight first: This is not about who has the “right.” Anyone who wants could make such a film. And I would never intervene in the actions of anyone who did so, so let me explain basically why I won’t be making such a film: Sept. 12 is actually something which anyone who tries even a little can understand. It is a moral issue, trying to understand and deal with the events of that period. That period is one which holds everyone in the nation responsible, from the most ignorant of people to the most intelligent. But to talk about such an issue or topic of morals and ethics, cinema is really inadequate. Sept. 12 is really about fighting for a better country, a better life in the streets. I just don’t know how well cinema would serve the purpose in trying to explain this. My feeling is simply that I will not make a film on this issue for a society that has still not shown itself on this topic and that has not yet shouldered true responsibility.

Your film “Kader” was well received in Turkey, though somehow not as well perceived in Europe. Could this have been because of cultural differences, do you think?

When the topic is cultural differences, Europe actually shows much more interest in countries that are culturally distant from itself. So it was because “Kader” was actually not a cultural film that there was a chasm between it and European audiences. Never mind that certain films are well received in Europe or America, those are specific incidents. All of the films I have ever made -- and all the films I will make in the future, no doubt -- have always been received coldly, with a certain distance. Even though there are exceptions, today’s European and world cinema looks at what sort of tricks a film presents, what sort of tightrope walking, what sort of magic. This has to do with the relations formed in reality versus festivals by the people of today. If, one day, one of my films should happen to receive a Golden Palm or an Oscar, don’t really believe it. It would definitely be a fluke.

To what do you attribute the serious responses you have received to your films from the more conservative factions in Turkey?

Differences between people cannot go as far as affecting the essence of what it is to be human. And to think this seems wrong to me. I am always surprised that these differences between people are so highlighted in this country. I have always labeled myself as a “leftist-revolutionary,” and I don’t want this to sound too heroic or anything, but in my films I have always carried to them subjects such as existence and fate, and in that sense, I feel very Muslim. My attempts to talk in films about why people are filled with as much lack of reason as reason, or as much idiocy as smartness is not just the result of some dry philosophy on my part. After all, the very thing you call your own spirituality may be someone else’s soul, or someone else’s honor.

The image of an opened door and Dostoevsky is in your film “Kıskanmak.” What do opening or closing doors symbolize for you?

Here is my point of departure: There are no huge events or tricks to the eye that occur in my films. What my films need are things which make them believable, which support visual [quality]. Sometimes this could even be as simple as a television on in a hotel. Another image I have used is a door that opens on its own. It is a simple but convenient trick for me. It changes the situation. This is how it started, this is how it continues. On the other hand, looking at my films from a critic’s eyes, you can see bits from my other films in “Kıskanmak.” There is lots from “Kader,” “C Blok,” “Üçüncü Sayfa” and “Yazgı.”

‘European cinema in its entirety does not make one “Lethal Weapon”’

European and Turkish cinema need to accept this: If you were to gather together all European cinema -- leaving aside Antonioni and Bergman and one or two other exceptions -- if you were to gather together this cinema world, especially those films that try to pass themselves off as “intellectual cinema,” the truth is that they don’t possess one-tenth or even one-hundredth of the talent possessed by Mel Gibson’s “Lethal Weapon.” It is due to the general lack of talent that certain subjects, certain cultural, sociological, political tricks of film become so highlighted. Why? It’s all an attempt to veil the lack of real cinematic talent. And viewers’ minds have become used to this. After watching a film, everyone talks about the content. No one talks about “how was that incredible line acted” or “did the film do that great line justice.” This is the subject that bothers me the most. A director has nothing special to say, so he finds a certain framework and just shoots and shoots the film. But nothing is really said, and there is no talent. Which is why if people like John Ford, Bergman and Antonioni were to make films today, no one would even watch them.