Istanbul Kirmizisi

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Istanbul, 13 May 2016

- Welcome, Mr. Orhan.

- Thank you.

Mr. Deniz wanted to welcome you

but an urgent meeting came up.

I should've gone to the hotel first.

No, you shouldn't. Mr. Deniz

wants to see you right away. Please.

Mr. Orhan, don't trouble yourself.

Wait here.

Make yourself at home.

Something to drink? Tea, coffee?

No, thank you.

Why are you standing there?

I told you to take that upstairs.

Careful.

If you live in the past,

you miss out on the present.

How's Istanbul?

As you left it?

- Well.

- Are you fired?

Not really.

We can start work right away.

I have so much to ask you.

My head's buzzing with questions.

Good thing you came.

- Your room's ready.

- No need. I'll go to my hotel.

Look, tell you what.

Why don't you take a shower and change?

Then let's talk some more, huh?

Welcome.

You'll make me mess up.

Imagine your guest's face

when he wakes up in the morning...

To see all the furniture

gone from the house.

You know what we should do?

Whisk his bed away from under him

while he's asleep, huh?

He won't know what's hit him

in the morning.

Only you would think of

having guests to stay...

On the very eve of

clearing out the house.

Just look at me.

Mum, really.

Does that bother you?

We've had a ton of people

through this house...

They've seen everything.

Fights, quarrels...

All but murder, in fact.

I don't like the idea of a stranger

seeing us leave this place.

Mum, Orhan.

Welcome, Mr. Orhan.

Come in please.

- Have a seat.

- Thanks.

Thank you.

My son says you live in London.

Yes, I've been there for years.

- Did you grow up in Istanbul?

- Yes, in Kalamis.

Kalamis.

The old Kalamis is all gone now.

Its famous 'sweet serenity'

and everything else. Really.

I feel rather like you, Mr. Orhan.

A stranger in my own country.

I don't go out any more.

Istanbul survives only in memories

Deniz always wants to be right.

Be smart and let him think

he gets his way whatever.

- What does he know about writing books?

- Mother.

- Yours was medium-sweet, wasn't it?

- Yes.

Thank you.

Hey, Orhan.

I want to say something.

So you...

You'll meet characters from the book.

The real people, though.

So when you meet them...

You may have questions but...

Please don't ask them, OK?

Ask me. Deal?

Sure. I came here for you.

Whatever you say.

Oh, and...

I want us to be alone.

You, me, the book.

We'll work more productively here.

I can drop you at the hotel tomorrow.

Huh? What do you say'?

I'd prefer the hotel.

But OK, whatever you say.

- You have a dog?

- No.

Why do you ask?

You're saying

you don't want to be tied down.

What breed is yours?

A stray.

Tommy.

Tommy from the book.

Like your dog as a kid.

Tommy.

Always Tommy.

Neval.

Yes.

Orhan.

- He's been dying to meet you.

- Really?

Why were you dying to meet me?

To see how accurately

Deniz describes you in his book.

What kind of book have you written?

Same stuff as always.

I like mixing fact and fiction.

You know howl like to embellish things.

Must've been tough on you.

So how does he describe me?

Oh god.

As his best friend.

They meet really young.

Neval's studying fine ans,

he's studying film.

She becomes a restoration artist

at which point he moves to Europe.

He thrives internationally as a director

but they never lose touch.

They exchange thousands of letters.

Come on! Not thousands.

They always spend holidays together.

At the summerhouse.

They also have a fling there.

- Did I put that in, too?

- A fling?

Are you sure it was a fling?

Neval, OK. I guess I put it in.

It was just one night, yes. I mean...

It meant the world to me, though.

But that's unfair.

You started with a 1-0 advantage.

You know almost everything about me.

And I know almost nothing about you.

I know the Neval of Deniz's book,

not you.

Besides, authors use their characters

to talk a little about themselves.

In storybooks, too?

Deniz mentioned it.

The idea of his editor being famous

for a storybook he wrote so young...

Really amused him.

But he said

you wrote nothing more after that.

Is that really true

or was he being mischievous?

Are London parties as dull as this?

Are all Deniz's friends like that?

He doesn't have any.

Apart from me.

All the people you see here...

- Are just admirers.

- Or lovers.

Especially ex-lovers

convinced they are irreplaceable.

Sure. You're the only one

who's irreplaceable.

The only person

Deniz takes seriously.

The only one

he takes criticism from.

Doesn't he mention that in his book?

Mr. Ouz.

So you've met Orhan.

Uh-huh.

Mr. Ouz is our host.

He's also a superb writer.

His books are always bestsellers.

You must read him.

If the zeitgeist interests you, that is.

Have you read him?

I know the name,

but haven't had the chance.

Here.

- Orhan.

- No, thanks.

All light.

- Could I have some water?

- Right away.

We've actually met before.

Your face is familiar.

Maybe a slightly younger version

with more hair.

We probably met at a party.

Before you left Turkey.

Are you staying here long?

No, not long.

Until I finish Deniz's book.

So you don't want to stay.

I guess

you find us disagreeable.

I think this city

finds me rather disagreeable.

Istanbul is a total slut.

She doesn't turn anyone down.

Let's drink to your return.

Mr. Ouz, I've given up alcohol.

An abstainer, huh?

I never trust people

who don't have bad habits.

Before coming here I spent three days

holed up at home watching your films.

In your writing

there's no narrative arc.

Granted, in both the films and the book

there's emotion, excitement.

But in the book

you're kind of all over the place.

Thanks, sweetie.

Thank you.

See you again.

Someone mil an ambulance.

MY Papers.

MY Papers.

MY Papers.

My... My... My papers.

Brother, my papers.

It's all blown away.

Don't let the bastards steal them.

I picked up so much today.

It's gone.

It's all gone.

Brother...

Give me a hand...

Picking up the paper.

So? What shall we do?

For the book?

My book, my films, everything I do...

It's all just a sham.

My life is a sham.

You know that, don't you?

Do you really believe that,

for goodness sake?

You know who you are.

And why you write.

You also know

the strongest pan of your book.

Where, for goodness sake?

Yusufs funeral

and everything else involving Yusuf.

F*** you.

The ritual washing of his body.

His death.

As I see it,

Yusuf is a phenomenal character.

I love him.

I tell you, he's the strongest character

in the book.

No two ways about it.

What do you like most about Yusuf?

That he's a loser?

I mean, is that it?

I see Yusuf

as a moth drawn to the light.

That's so dull.

So damn dull.

That's how I mote him.

But he isn't like that.

There must be a grain of truth.

For just this much truth

I would change entire lives

of all my characters.

I mote it.

I'm the director.

I decide who they are

and how they act.

Got it?

The angel you imagine...

ls sometimes the devil.

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