Berke Göl. Mental Minefields: The Dark Tales of Zeki Demirkubuz
Confession
Zeki Demirkubuz’s fifth film, İtiraf (Confession, 2001), takes Turkey’s capital city Ankara as its primary setting. A rare choice for a Turkish filmmaker, Ankara (unlike cosmopolitan Istanbul) is a city known for its large middle class composed mainly of government officials and bureaucrats. The somewhat dull atmosphere of Ankara finds its reflection in the gloomy, claustrophobic internal shots that make up most of the film. Demirkubuz’s trademark scenes with television sets in hotel rooms and doors that constantly open and close are also present here, but to a lesser degree. And, as in his other films, long intense monologues update viewers on off-screen plot developments.
An engineer in his late thirties, Harun (Taner Birsel), suspects his wife, Nilgün (Başak Köklükaya), of being unfaithful. When the uncertainty becomes unbearable, he cuts short a business trip to Istanbul and abruptly returns home to Ankara, unannounced. His worries are confirmed when he overhears his wife whispering on the phone to someone he does not know. During a tense dinner in an upscale restaurant, Harun forces Nilgün to confess what he believes he already knows. The acrimonious dispute is followed by a long and torturous process of physical and psychological violence, which reveals that the couple’s marriage rests on a mutual feeling of guilt towards their deceased friend Taylan, who committed suicide some years earlier. Over the course of the film, it becomes clear that the “confession” refers both to Harun’s desperate struggle to make Nilgün confess her infidelity and his irresistible drive to confess what he deems a sin to Taylan’s family.
Confession, the second installment in the director’s “Tales of Darkness” trilogy, strives to unveil the darkness of the human soul and the potential evil that lies within it. Harun’s constant torturing of himself and his wife, Nilgün’s infidelity and her refusal to confess, and the couple’s inability to engage in any kind of genuine communication with each other offer an extremely pessimistic view of human nature. Nevertheless, the film can also be interpreted to be about the weakness, or the fragility of the human psyche. All the evil done is the result of the characters’ weakness and vulnerability. Harun’s insistence on making his wife confess is connected to his own guilt about his responsibility in his best friend’s suicide.
In a recent interview reproduced at the end of this catalog, Demirkubuz says, “I think two high level positions must be created: shame and confession. I believe that a better life could be built only on these two positions. Neither the development of technology nor modernity can solve the problems of humanity in the absence of shame and confession, which are the greatest inventions of humankind―the most sublime levels that humanity can ever reach.” In Confession, the shame and guilt carried in their hearts destroy Harun and Nilgün’s relationship and their lives. Ironically however, confronting this guilt is what liberates them and provides them with a slight possibility to start anew. What can make us evil, is what makes us human. This is why, despite all the darkness and the misery, it is possible to catch a fleeting glimpse of hope in the sad and uncertain ending of the film.
Berke Göl. Mental Minefields: The Dark Tales of Zeki Demirkubuz. Eds. Zeynep Dadak-Enis Köstepen. New York: Altyazı, ArteEast, Moon and Stars Project. 2007.
