The creation of comedian/actor Şahan Gökbakar, Ivedik has not only been the all-time favorite national box office hit with its first two movies but has also been the representative of a young generation that is more than ready to heavily crucify bourgeoisie values. It is hard not to laugh at a few of his jokes for he is a great social observer; however, his aggression on screen can become so irritating and offensive, as well as misogynistic, that it’s hard to fully appreciate his efforts of social bravado. Laughing at a mope who freely slaps around people he doesn’t agree with is easy -- and at the cost of being self-righteous -- is it right?In this third installment of the series, Ivedik, who still looks like an overgrown sea lion and hasn’t shaved or bathed in God knows how long, finds himself clinically depressed. After the passing of his dear grandmother, who in the second series tried to transform him into a decent person, Ivedik doesn’t feel like doing anything and sits at home all day trying to figure out how he can become his old self again. Of course, sitting at home is not something new for him; since he has no real job, we could say he’s a freelancer of sorts.
Anyhow, we observe -- through the expected type of unrelated skits planted throughout the script -- that Ivedik is trying out redemptive activities that will pull him out of his depression. First he visits a hodja who will supposedly exorcise the demons gnawing at him from within. (Not surprisingly, the hodja turns out to be a fraud during a bust, with dire consequences for Ivedik.) Later he decides to watch movies at home -- there’s a little commentary from Gökbakar on Turkish cinema as he watches Çağan Irmak’s romance “Issız Adam” (Alone) and Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s “Üç Maymun” (Three Monkeys) (I was expecting the film to satirize these works of intellect; on the contrary, Ivedik lets out a tear during “Issız Adam.”) Eventually, Ivedik visits a shrink whom he berates for charging $150 per hour -- you really can’t blame the guy’s aggression at this point.
Halfway through the film, the daughter of one of Ivedik’s friends, college student Zeynep (Zeynep Çamcı), asks for accommodation at his humble abode. Poor thing doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into. Yet a strange thing happens; Zeynep brings out the positive and civilized side of Ivedik as she helps him recover from his depression. They attend music lessons and karate courses together and even participate in a paintball match with her friends. It’s almost like there is hope for Ivedik thanks to this young girl.
Of course, it’s not the storyline or the “elaborate” plot that draws in young audiences, though it must be said that this time the film follows a decent storyline instead of getting lost in the comfort of the individual incidents that bring to mind a collage of “Saturday Night Live” sketches. It’s Gökbakar himself and the silver screen mongoloid that he has created who has become the darling of so many viewers -- everybody goes to Ivedik knowing exactly what he is. The ironic thing is that Gökbakar is fully aware of the repugnant character that he has unleashed; Ivedik is not only a vessel to satisfy people’s primitive desires to bash modern society but is also the ultimate scapegoat for the crudeness and aggression that we have come to criticize in contemporary Turkish society. And thus because Ivedik/Gökbakar is aware of what a brute he is and does not make excuses for it, his actions are never praised by the makers of the series. Of course, that doesn’t prevent anyone from flocking to theaters.
Ivedik is not for anyone who believes in a subtle form of comedy, but it is a brilliant sociological experiment that anyone who wants to understand our contemporary local times must see. Don’t feel guilty if you find yourself occasionally laughing, for despite all the misogyny and suffocating machismo, Gökbakar shines as he in fact fully understands the hypocrisy of our modern culture and transforms it into comedy.
