In Yellow Letters, Aziz writes and directs theater pieces starring his wife, Derya, for a State-owned theater. Together with their teenage daughter, Ezgi, they live in Ankara/Berlin – a dimension of Germany Çatak created where everyone speaks Turkish (I ask him below if Universal Language was an inspiration, the answer is no).
When Derya refuses to meet with the governor after a premiere, and Aziz is accused of criticizing the State online, they both lose their jobs. This prompts them to move to Istanbul/Hamburg, where they start living with Aziz’s mother. Every family member’s commitment to their values is put to the test as they collectively descend into unknown territory, each taking a different route.
Have you watched a movie called Universal Language?
I haven’t seen it, no.
It’s set in a version of Canada where everyone speaks Persian, the same way in your film is set in Germany but everyone speaks Turkish. Why is that concept interesting?
I wanted to make a film in Turkish, and I wanted to do it with German money. There’s millions of Turkish people living in Germany, they pay taxes. They deserve a film in Turkish.
You have talked about how Marriage Story has inspired you. Can you say a bit more about that?
I just love that film. It’s such a great film of a couple that is loving and tender and then on the other hand can be so harsh. I remember that scene in the empty flat where they are just going at each other’s throats. And I remember watching it and thinking, this is something that I would want to do, but differently. In Marriage Story, it’s less of a politics that is dividing them. It’s more of their egos. Which I think is fair, but I thought combining a marriage story with some politics would be even more interesting.
Your last film (The Teachers’ Lounge) was much more minimalist than this one. Do you feel that this decision has served this story?
I don’t know if you can make a film any more minimalist than that [The Teachers’ Lounge]. This one needed a bit of an epic scale. It needed 2 hours of running time. It’s also a challenge for an audience to watch, especially if you don’t speak Turkish, you’re reading all those subtitles.
I would hope that it’s worth it. I would hope that after 2 hours, you’re like, I’m kind of tired, but what I’ve seen is just really epic.
The film deals with so many things. It’s deals with artistic integrity, it’s deals with justice. It deals with parenthood. It deals with theater, art, whatever, that it could not have been a film as minimalistic as the other one.
How does religion fit into all of this, particularly through the character of the brother?
I read this book before writing this script called The Turkishness Contract. It’s a great book by an academic called Barış Ünlü, and he writes about the performances one has to perform in order to get along in society. He talks about Turkey and where those performances come from. But I think also in any other country, you have to deliver those performances.
You need to love your country. You need to love your religion. There is a reason why every American president ends every speech with God bless America. It’s not because they’re religious, it’s because they’re putting on a performance. And since we were dealing with actors, we thought, let’s ban them from their stage. Let’s see what kind of roles and what kind of performances they have to deliver in everyday life. And in Turkey, when you’re not a Muslim, and it is a country ruled by a Muslim party, then it’s very hard to get along. Then you won’t have your work done. You won’t be able to get into certain positions in public life. So it’s that sort of performative pressure that we tried to implement by writing that brother.
Emin Alper (Turkish filmmaker) said that he draws the line at working for pro-government channels. Seemingly, it’s still possible to make that choice: to live according to your principles and still keep working in Turkey?
Of course. And it’s not just Turkey. I mean, if Amazon were to offer me a film now, I wouldn’t do it because the guy just laid off half of the Washington Post. You have to look at the companies that you’re working with. And obviously, it is not always easy to do, especially if you have children that you need to provide for.
People who decide to work for these companies or for state-owned TV channels, they will have their reasons. I don’t want to judge them. I know that there is out there a world, especially in social media, that does judge them. And maybe there is this wish that all artists need to have integrity, but life isn’t like that. You sometimes sell out. You can say: hey, I’m not gonna do this stupid show for you, Amazon. But the next day, they come with the next Bond movie, and then you would reconsider. It’s not as easy. And I know that there is this pressure from your peers that you should be this Holy Spirit, or fatalistic about things. I can relate to that, but I don’t want to be that [person]. I think those are [their] morals that they are imposing on others. And I think that is even worse.
Have you encountered things like that here in Germany as well? Where you got opportunities, but you had to look inside yourself to say do I want to work with these people?
There are some actors, for instance, that have been dubious, to say the least, in their behavior, where you’re like, okay, do I want to get involved with this person? Some writers, who’ve written great stuff, but I think – I don’t want to know if I want to be in the same picture with you. Sure, there are these things, and companies, the big players, who are taking more and more of our industry. They are the ones who decide what films are being made, what content is being created and so on. And I understand that people are very easily seduced by a big company telling them, come here, there’s a TV show. You’ve just made a great first film, and now this is your opportunity to show your [talent] to the whole world.
On the other hand, you’re sitting in front of a blank page where you don’t know if you’re gonna write anything sustainable or substantial, and then you don’t know if that writing will ever be produced, or will ever be financed. And I have been in that position so many times.
There was a show I was asked to do for Sky, and the producers said: you’re gonna be directing this show over 5 continents. It’s going to be great. And on the other end, I was writing The Teacher’s Lounge, a small little film. And what happened? I chose The Teacher’s Lounge, and Sky pulled out of Germany.
The show that the colleagues did shoot landed nowhere. It’s now in a shelf. You can’t find it anywhere. This is our capitalistic reality. So I am very skeptical about these capitalistic platforms. I think we need to protect our artistic integrity. We need to protect independent cinema. And I hope that audiences at some point will say, we need independent cinema, because here, we feel like algorithms.
What do you think is the power independent cinema right now? If there is one.
It is a counterpart to the shallowness of everything else. Hopefully. I feel like there is so much mediocrity out there. There’s so much stuff out there that is trying to shift the focus away from the themes of our times, and I think independent cinema is still a place where you can still have artistic voices and voices that are unique and that have something to say. But in order to be part of that culture and that independent cinema, you actually have to say something. And I see so many shows and films and these contents that don’t have to say anything. And this is why I think that independent cinema is also a vehicle to question the pressing question of our times.
How important were the theater pieces in the film and how did you develop those?
They are as important as anything else in the film. I am not a theater writer and I talked to a few theater people to confirm with them that the pieces were good enough. During the casting process, I also went to a lot of theaters myself. I watched many plays and that’s where I found my lead actor.
After that, it’s just like any other scene. You think about what the scene has to say, and you have to think about what it means in the story, and then you write it accordingly.
These were the kinds of plays that they were able to perform in Turkey?
They perform all sorts of plays. There is a very vivid theater scene in Istanbul, more than 200 theaters. I went to see big productions, smaller productions, and it was very inspiring to me. Maybe it’s also because theater is one of the few places where things are still happening in real time and in real person. So I thought there is something progressive about theater. We’re rediscovering it because I think people want to get the real thing. They’re fed up with the whole algorithm and digital space stuff.
Interview edited for clarity. Conducted as part of a round-table with other journalists.