Yet that is almost exactly what we sat through at the end of the Golden Orange award ceremonies, where the Turkish film industry honors its best. There was a speech by the Antalya governor and the head of the copyright commission and the mayor and the leader of the opposition, Deniz Baykal. Most years, there is a speech by the minister of culture, but this year, perhaps because the city of Antalya does not support the ruling party, the minister made his appearance at a previous event.I suppose the political classes can be forgiven slightly. The film festival exists through the grace of public funds, and he who pays for the festival gets to call the long-winded platitudes. The irony is that many, many of the Turkish films in competition made none too subtle fun of the protocol culture which invests all aspects of Turkish public life. Zeki Demirkubuz's “Envy” begins with the speechifying at the start of a provincial Republic Day ball in 1930. Director Özgür Doğan in his acceptance speech for best debut for “On the Way to School” spoke of the theme of his film, the need for young children to be educated in their mother language even when that language is Kurdish. Kutluğ Ataman's “Journey to the Moon” gently lampoons a republic fumbling with the idea of modernity by earnestly documenting a group of villagers in Erzincan during the 1950s trying to win the space race in a craft made from the local minaret. Perhaps if those in the protocol lineup at Saturday night's ceremony actually took the trouble to watch the films they were rewarding, they might at least give shorter speeches.
Yet the speech the cinema community in Turkey actually wants to hear is the one from the minister of finance which would set out tax incentives that would make it easier to get films made in Turkey and enable Turkey to attract foreign production companies. It is not (moon launches aside) rocket science. “Everyone understands the value of building up a film industry,” director John Irvin explained to me. It makes a difference to local economies to have free-spending film crews, and of course, it changes people's perception of the country. Once upon a time, filmmakers flocked to Canada to take advantage of incentives, but now virtually every state in America offers similar concessions. Budapest and Prague became prime locations through changes in their nations' tax regimes. İstanbul, however, does not even have a film commission to attract productions and help with guidelines.
There are plenty of movie makers who would gladly come to Turkey, Mr. Irvin explained. He himself is trying to put together a three-picture deal in partnership with a Turkish production company. “As a director, you need to travel to new locations. It's like getting a spring in your step from a new set of clothes.”
It's not that there is no public money going into film. There is a film royalties board that helps with finance. But it does so on an ad hoc basis, a system that is open to abuse. There is a bill before the Turkish Parliament which would provide a more systematized set of incentives. It is one that deserves to be rushed into law. After spending a few days at the Antalya festival, it seems to me that Turkish cinema is about to move into a higher gear. It has managed to develop its own personality and voice -- and all on a shoestring budget. The festival winner, Reha Erdem's “Kosmos,” according to the foreign critics with whom I shared my supper, might have been a bit short on story but had a breathtaking sense of style. What the industry needs is not more politicians on the podium announcing winners but ones prepared to get out of the way.