Mektup Page #3

Synopsis: A man researches the death of his political activist father while in police custody.
 
IMDB:
6.8
Year:
1997
100 min
20 Views


Don't you think I'd

recognize Beshir Bey.

We've been together since the War.

You see that talk piece?

The pilot died in my arms.

And Beshir Bey...

- What happened to Beshir Bey?

- So you saw him?

You saw him, didn't you? You drank

raki together with him, didn't you?

You're not lying to us? You're not

misleading us? If It's a matter of money

here take the money Onat Usta.

Just tell the truth.

Please take the money

Onat Usta. Here, here.

- Did you believe him? - Something

inside me says he's telling the truth.

What do you mean, do

you think he's alive?

Yeah, yeah. My father... We were

always together, he was always at home.

- I don't remember him doing any

kind of work. - Where is he now?

He never left his room. He used

to do one puzzle after another,

- stare out at street trough his

tiny window. - Where is he now?

One morning we found him dead. With

the newspaper, the puzzles in his hand.

I wasn't even able to cry. We threw

away a whole room full of newspapers.

So you're also able to be

merciless now and then.

I'd like to believe that

your father is still alive.

He said that we live like frozen food.

We wait around for the day when

they'll take us out of the freezer.

I think his life was also

filled with such moments.

I wanted to speak with you alone because

I have some private things to say.

- I'd like you to help me. - Of course,

of course, I'll do whatever I can.

When they told me you wanted to speak with me,

I thought you were picking up your shares.

Shares? I don't know anything

about them. What shares?

- Don't you really know? Try and be up front

with me. - No, no, I don't know a thing.

Okay, okay, I understand. I'm sure you

realize that this isn't the first time I've

confronted a situation like this. In any

case, secrecy was your father's forte.

I'm going to tell you

everything, don't worry.

We did two things together, one successful,

one not. You know which one didn't work?

- As I said, don't know a thing.

- Yes, you're right, I forgot...

A national concern. No one can

know the importance of this factory.

This factory was a matter of national

concern for us. We didn't make a mess.

Of things as we did with that unfortunate

junta. We were first to build a factory

- like this in the country. My daughter...

Mr. Ragip. - Have you found your father?

Would you like walk along with us?

- I'm going to try and explain a few things

to our visitor. -You're living in L. A?

- Yes. Have you been there?

- A few times. Very interesting city.

Everything's interesting.

Yes, very interesting.

Tell us about your mysterious life, father.

It'd really be interesting to Mr. Ragip.

- But he has to know, my child.

- Everything?

Please, don't put any pressure on me.

Is there anyone other than Mr. Ragip

- who's curious about his father, who wants

to see him? - Yes, there's you, father...

Bye. I'm leaving...

Good luck, Mr. Ragip.

After me wife died my daughter became

everything to me. I have one else.

These are the pictures of my life. At one time

your father and I were very close friends.

But after the junta he thought I had betrayed

him. The fact is we were all betrayed.

This was the kind of a defeat we'll never

forget. We had gone hunting in Indochina.

He wanted to kill me there. He was

quiet, calm. He wanted to get rid of me.

Now do you understand why I

don't want to remember him?

I've never come across anyone

as pure as he was. I miss him.

It was he who taught us

the abc's of so many things.

Now we're stuck in the middle of this

swamp with that alphabet... helpless.

He lived own life died his own death.

I could never have imagined that after

thirty-five years in the police force,

after tailling your father and writing hundreds

of reports on him that this would happen.

One day, I don't know where it came from, he

began to talk about that strange plan of his.

"Go and find one" he said.

For days and days I walked in

and out of village cemeteries.

I bargained with diggers.

So after having followed your father for

thirty-five years, I bought a corpse for him.

Because I was a faithful friend.

I couldn't survive without

him. I moved with him.

Soon I began taking care

of almost all his business.

So I bought a corpse and I made sure

that everything was done realistically.

I was in charge of the funeral.

Absolutely everybody was there:

communists, fascists,

liberals, high ranking officers,

ministers, workers. Absolutely

everybody. Except that no one

but he and I knew that this was in

reality the funeral of a poor peasant.

Your father planned the

whole thing:
I executed it.

Can you imagine, we were

able to fool all of Istanbul!

Everything went like clockwork. They

all believed your father had died.

From then on he was free to live

elsewhere under an assumed name.

We watched the whole thing

from a flat I had rented.

The deceit of a man who watched his

own funeral from a distance so he could

free himself before

getting completely soiled.

- Is all this true? How can we believe it?

- He's alive. My father's alive.

Fine, but why all these deceptions?

I don't understand.

This was, at the same time, the deceit

of a man who observed his own funeral

and disappeared so he could save himself from

getting soiled That's what the video says.

- Didn't the general give you

any other leads? - No.

Well, maybe the old housekeeper

will tell us some more tomorrow.

He'll tell us some more, won't he?

Hello...

Was it you who gave my number to her?

No, she must've gotten it

from the American bodyguards.

This is all we needed.

Shall I make you an omlet.

I said to your father, see that tree

over there? Why take us? Take it.

But what'd I do? Was I deserving of him?

He came all the way out there to our

remote villages to work as a doctor.

He was the only really important

person in the whole area.

Then he got this idea of teaching me

how to read and write. And what did I do?

I lazied around,my head somewhere

in the clouds, mot picking up much.

I had no one in the world. Your father

was obsessed with helping orphans like me.

Those crooked bureaucrats, those

crooked bureaucrats, he'd always say.

Later on they really gave him a

hard time. But he never gave in.

Maybe he did after that, I

don't know. And what did I do?

He was just about to take off. They didn't

let him live there they sent him away...

I saw him off with the first

words he taught me to read.

Just before he left he was really

in bad shape. He was drinking a lot.

He kept saying, they're after me. They're

going to kill me. Whatever that means.

And what'd I do? On the day he left, I was

able to keep his things as he left them.

And what did I do? I didn't know how to

read or write. I was never able to learn.

He took me in as a little kid, brought me

out by train, and I've worked for him since.

And what'd he do? One morning he just

picked up and left this room without a sound.

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Ali Özgentürk

Ali Özgentürk is a Turkish film director, screenwriter, and producer. He was born on 4 November 1947 in Adana, Turkey. After studying philosophy and sociology at Istanbul University, he became involved in theater, as an actor, director, and playwright. He founded Istanbul's first street theater troupe in 1968. He began working in the Turkish film industry in 1974 as a camera assistant, and eventually became an assistant and screenwriter for famous Kurdish film directors such as Atif Yilmaz and Yılmaz Güney.In 1977, Özgentürk wrote the screenplay for director Atıf Yılmaz's film Selvi Boylum, Al Yazmalım (The Girl with the Red Scarf), which would go on to become a major hit in Turkey. In 1979, Özgentürk directed his first feature, Hazal, which he co-wrote with Onat Kutlar. The film won awards at the Mannheim Film Festival, Prades Film Festival, and the Best New Director award at the San Sebastián International Film Festival. Ozgenturk followed it in 1982 with At (The Horse), which screened at the Cannes Film Festival and won major awards at the Valencia Film Festival and the Tokyo International Film Festival, which awarded it the Ozu Award, carrying a cash prize of $250,000. His third feature, 1985's Bekςi (The Guardian), an adaptation of Turkish novelist Orhan Kemal's classic novel Murtaza, holds the distinction of being the first Turkish film to screen in competition at the Venice Film Festival.Özgentürk courted controversy with his fourth film, Su da Yanar (Water Also Burns, 1987), which concerned a director attempting to make a film about the life of controversial Turkish poet Nâzım Hikmet.In 2000, Özgentürk directed Balalayka, which would go on to become a major box office hit in Turkey. The film ran into trouble early in its production when its original lead actor, Kemal Sunal, died of a heart attack while boarding a plane to the film's location in Trabzon. He was replaced in the part by the Turkish actor Uğur Yücel. more…

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