Zeki Demirkubuz
Kader

Hold my hand tight and follow me, I’ll take you through the depths of Demir Debirkubuz's murky cinema, I will tell you about his magical and mysterious Turkey, also dangerous. Notes of Kanun, songs and percussion bombard the desaturated streets of Istanbul, Ankara, and many other cities. The cities visited by Ugur, a beautiful blonde played by the stunning Vildan Atasever. She walks, walks, the cities change, but her destination is always the same: a prison where the love of her life, Zagor, is imprisoned. But Zagor is a bad boy, he has already killed the protector of Ugur's family, and not only that, which is why he is constantly transferred through Turkish penitentiaries, strictly after causing a bigger mess than before.

Are we there? Good, but Ugur is not alone, a man constantly follows her at a controlled distance, his name is Bekir, madly in love with her after meeting the young woman in the carpet shop where he works. From there, begins an inexorable descent into hell that outlines not only Bekir's destiny but also delineates one of the most "unlikely" and powerful "couples" ever represented in a feature film. So: Bekir loves Ugur, Ugur loves Zagor, Zagor probably loves killing people. In this bizarre triangle, Bekir evolves the figure of a "doormat" man to new dizzying heights. Ugur asks for his help to desperately try to get her man out of jail, eventually proposing herself as Bekir's "personal slave" (?). He probably doesn't understand a word, adrift in the sea of infatuation, but has a vague feeling: that of big, very big trouble. Let's take a slight step back in Bekir's story, married — through an arranged marriage — to a sweet woman who loves him genuinely despite everything, with a beautiful little girl. Also remembering the carpet shop, responsible for the unfortunate meeting, we can consider Bekir's life more than normal. But here arises one of the film's most burning questions: can a thrill be worth risking everything? Ugur the wanderer, night singer, often prostitute and in close contact with Turkish criminality, is clearly a woman to avoid, yet she also represents for Bekir freedom, that thrill completely absent in his all too normal life. The young man thus decides to follow what he believes to be an inescapable destiny, the "Kader" of the title, indeed. Considering that this film is, in fact, a prequel made retrospectively, we know very well how their story will end in the previous Masumiyet (Innocence) by the same director, which I recommend in case this approach proves positive.

A relationship beyond delirium, that between Bekir and Ugur, he obstinately wants to couple with her, she rejects him every time, but apparently prefers all the rest of the male population, and then there's Zagor, a figure always in the background (after all, he's in jail) but no less dangerous for Bekir, indeed disapproving his attentions towards Ugur, he hires hitmen to take him out, yet he doesn't yield even in the face of a bullet, because love makes you as mad as it makes you indestructible. Yet there is something elusive beyond the clear exploitation of the goodwill and emotions of the unlucky young man, in a moment of consciousness Ugur begs Bekir not to follow him anymore and not to love him, but even this doesn't make him desist. From that moment on, the relationship between the two becomes practically indissoluble, but marked by extremely strong contrasts. Besides this, we also have the little Cilem, Ugur's daughter only hinted at in Kader, but whom we know quite well in Masumiyet. In his lucid madness of a man trapped in the whirlwind of a perpetual two of spades, Bekir ends up considering her his daughter. Is that all? More or less yes, in substance nothing extraordinary happens in Kader, sometimes a bit like life that Debirkubuz does not worry about filming, outside the representation of an impossible love story. Rather, the hyper-realism of the staging surprises, the latent desperation a bit everywhere, and an atmosphere perfectly calibrated across the entire Turkish culture: music is a strong component of the film, as are the fascinating vocal performances of Ugur, which momentarily elevate the character from her disheartening reality, the proud ostentation of hot tea with a strict sugar lump, cigarettes, food always cut into tiny portions, all contribute to establishing a world of pure magic, at least to our eyes. Kader is a small masterpiece that you must see. Vildan Atasever not only looks like a young Isabella Ferrari clone (says it all), but is absolutely stellar as an anthology bad girl, while Ufuk Bayrakatar excellently represents with Bekir the man willing to do anything to escape a pre-packaged life. Ankara burns in Debirkubuz's films, while his magnetic characters dream of better lives, don’t be afraid to discover it.