Demirkubuz’s ‘Envy’: Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery.
Writer-director Zeki Demirkubuz holds one of the most unique places in Turkish cinema; he seems to simultaneously gather contempt and admiration from critics and audiences for his obstinate, unapologetic and self-exultant style of dealing with human misery, treachery, submission to blind fate and the dynamics of basic patriarchal society and of exerting emotional power.
Demirkubuz’s cinematic prowess reaches its heights especially in films such as “Masumiyet” (Innocence, 1992) and the more recent “Kader” (Fate, 2006).
This time, diverting from his usual illustration of contemporary society, he takes a plunge in directing a period piece, “Kıskanmak” (Envy), based on Nahid Sırrı Örik’s 1946 novel of the same title.
It is the 1930s; Zonguldak, a mining town in the western Black Sea region, is the setting. The newly founded Turkish Republic is in its infancy, and pride mixed with detachment overcomes the facial expressions of the guests of a Republic Day ball as they sing the national anthem. About 30 seconds pass, and we cut to the same guests dancing a waltz — perhaps an allusion to manifestations of the perception of the modern republic during the time. We are immediately introduced to our main characters: Halit (Serhat Tutumluer), the İstanbulite engineer newly appointed to the mining company in the town, Mükerrem (Berrak Tuzunatac), his beautiful and much younger socialite wife, and last but not least, Seniha (Nergis Öztürk), Halit’s incredibly ugly sister who is the appendage of their marriage and takes shelter in her brother’s house.
Everybody seems happy with the family arrangement, or at least that is what we can assume by the pleasantries exchanged and the air of acceptance. Halit works like a dog to feed the family and remains mostly silent during dinner. He treats his wife with adoration but nonetheless indifference. Seniha, despite her brother’s discontentment with her, keeps the household running and prefers the life of a recluse. And Mükerrem, with the air of a child, knows exactly how to toss her pretty head around and seems mostly concerned with the nostalgia of her previously bubbly life in İstanbul. The key here is the relationship between Seniha and Mükerrem; one would think that given the circumstances of aesthetics and Seniha’s immediate presence in the marriage, the two would openly maltreat each other; however, a sisterly bond does exist between them that surpasses formality. Or so we would think — until a new element is added to the equation.
When Nüzhet, the handsomely pretty and good-for-nothing son of the richest family in town, sets his eyes on Mükerrem, the dynamics are forever changed. Mükerrem is at first disgusted with Nüzhet’s overt sexual innuendo, but it isn’t long before she yields to her lust and thus they embark on an affair. Perhaps it gives her something to do in this godforsaken town as the beautiful misery of her drama carries her away.
While Halit remains clueless, Seniha is aware of everything, and the question remains for a long time why she conceals her sister-in-law’s adultery from her brother. Is it because of her understanding or maybe is she just waiting for the right time to unleash hell?
As Seniha, Öztürk’s performance is exhilarating, and her recent best actress award at the Antalya Golden Orange Film Festival is surely deserved. She portrays through her body language, facial twitches and subtly stingy intonations the disposition of a woman who sees herself confined by a destiny that she is not in control of — after all, if beauty is God given, so is ugliness. When Seniha finally reveals Mükerrem’s “un-virtuousness” to her brother, Öztürk delivers her performance with incomparable grace. We reflect whether this really is Seniha’s personal revenge against Mükerrem or something far deeper — maybe her brother or just life itself. Of course, even she has no idea what the consequences will be and how cruelly her “destiny” will change.
“Envy” differs in many ways from Demirkubuz’s previous works. It is much more restrained and claustrophobic, which in its own way transforms the film into a continuous rollercoaster of emotional tension and suspense without ever revealing anything more than it should. The intense dialogue sequences are the best that have come out of Turkish cinema in recent years and the eerie atmosphere created through cinematography and art direction lures the audience into the twisted, familiar and timeless universe of the human psyche. “Envy” would have still been as powerful if it took place in contemporary society — for sometimes one ponders if there really are any emotions as powerful as envy, lust and contempt…
Emine Yıldırım. Today’s Zaman. July 9, 2010.
