Novelist Kiremitçi's debut film crumbles

Novelist, poet, musician and columnist Tuna Kiremitçi is back again, this time with overambitious plans to be a filmmaker. Kiremitçi puts his signature as writer and director on his debut feature, 'Adını Sen Koy' (You Name It), yet another mediocre movie in a series of films on the upper-middle-class bourgeoisie

“Writers should be read, but neither seen nor heard.” Daphne du Maurier’s words capture perfectly the sentiments most of us feel for writer-cum-musician-cum-filmmaker Tuna Kiremitçi.

Over-exposed doesn’t do justice to Kiremitçi’s career spanning a decade of novels, poetry, rock albums, a regular column and, finally, a film in theaters.

Having wowed Turkish readers with his debut novel, Git Kendini Çok Sevdirmeden (Leave Before I Fall In), Kiremitçi soon became the voice of the lovelorn and melancholic with his subsequent novels, including Bu İşte Bir Yalnızlık Var (The Way of Loneliness) and Dualar Kalıcıdır (Prayers Stay the Same).

Two novels in 2005, Yolda Üç Kişi (Three on the Road) and A.Ş.K. Neyin Kısaltması? (What is L.O.V.E.?), coincided with the author’s very public affair with daily Vatan’s romance columnist, İclal Aydın. Both had publicized relationships with their exes in the past, and the media had a field day following the two writers in love. The affair soon ended, but Kiremitçi landed a column at Vatan that he writes to this day while continuing to pen novels.

His occasional flirting with music became a part of his public persona, and he recently announced he would end his career as a novelist. The prolific artist that he is, Kiremitçi’s announcement coincided with trailers for an upcoming movie, Adını Sen Koy (You Name It), that he wrote and directed.

On love, friendship, life, death and everything else

The trailers promised to touch a soft spot for the Turkish audience, a heartbreaking love story among the urban upper-middle class. For the cynics out there, the film was an unabashed attempt to cash in on last year’s audience favorite, Issız Adam (Alone). Turkey’s answer to Love Story, the movie was set among the thirty-something bourgeoisie of Istanbul.

That female lead Melis Birkan played similar roles in both films was enough to fuel the comparisons. The poster for Adını Sen Koy is an obvious homage to the hit 1990s' movie Trainspotting, designed either to draw or alienate the demographic associated with the Danny Boyle film.

In trying to explain his movie, Kiremitçi reminds us of the soppy, overambitious and pretentious romanticism of his novels: “At its core, it’s a love story... I also wanted the film to be on friendship, life, death and a little bit about insanity. I’ve tried looking at all of these concepts through the mirror of love.”

Adını Sen Koy is the story of a love triangle journeying toward doom in the last week before a marriage. Aybige (Birkan) and Can (Ali İl, making his move from television to cinema) are about to get married. Things become weird when Can’s best friend, Ilgaz (Cemal Toktaş), comes from Germany to attend the wedding and an unexpected tension between fiancée and friend emerges.

Ambitious lines in a jumbled script

The dynamics, history, source and justification of the awkward relationship among the three main characters were probably very clear in Kiremitçi’s head, but the audience has a hard time putting the pieces together and trying to make sense of the increasing mess as the movie progresses.

The motivations, longings and confusions of the characters stay on the surface as mere lines in a jumbled script. Ambitious lines such as “Do you know what love is? It’s giving up all the women in the world for one woman” soon begin sounding as urgent as a school crush.

Similar to what Yıldız Kültür did as Alper’s mother in Issız Adam, however, Ahmet Mümtaz Taylan, as Ilgaz’s suicidal brother, raises the bar whenever he enters the scene.

Close-up shots dominate the film, creating the feeling that one is watching a TV drama on screen. Beautiful shots of Eskişehir by cinematographer Soykut Turan might be the only high point of the movie.

Adını Sen Koy once again shows Turkish TV and cinema’s unfortunate inability to create an accurate and honest picture of thirty-something urbanites – perhaps due to the very recent emergence of that demographic. With the exception of last year’s Ara (Between) by Ümit Ünal, a series of films continues to portray an unrealistic, pretentious and trite picture of newly emerging upper-middle-class urban life.

Adını Sen Koy, unfortunately, adds yet another film to this corpus.

Originally published in Hürriyet Daily News on 13 Dec. 09