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Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Casus Kiran

Release Year: 1968
Country: Turkey
Starring: Irfan Atasoy, Sevda Ferda, Yidirim Gencer, Suzan Avci, Reha Yurdakul, Cahit Irgat, Erol Gunaydin, Faruk Panter, Huseyin Zan, Haydar Karaer, Mehmet B. Gungor, Zeki Sezer, Umil Kader, Mete Mert, Feridun Cakar
Director: Yilmaz Atadeniz
Writer: Cetin Inanc
Cinematographer: Rafet Siriner
Producer: Yilmaz Atadeniz


It's hard to write about these old Turkish superhero movies--especially those directed by Yilmaz Atadeniz--without making reference to the Republic serials of the 1940s. The problem with doing so, however, is that many of you young people out there, with your newfangled transistor radios and souped-up hotrods, will have no idea what the hell I'm talking about. I suppose the appropriately curmudgeonly response to that would be to refuse to continue this review until you've educated yourselves on the topic, instead filling space with horrific, Andy Rooney-like ruminations on how butter doesn't taste the way it used to and why on earth is the print in Reader's Digest so small until you return with at least one complete viewing of The Perils of Nyoka or some-such under your belts. But, as much as the thought of such an exercise appeals to me, I'm afraid I can't do so in good conscience.

The fact is that those serials were meant to be seen in a very specific context, a context which simply doesn't exist anymore. Now, despite what I said previously, I'm actually not old enough myself to have seen them as they were originally presented--i.e in weekly installments as part of a Saturday matinee at the local movie house presented to an audience that I imagine as being made up entirely of young boys in immaculate baseball caps and striped shirts with names like Skip, Biff and Scooter. I did, however, have a vaguely analogous experience of them in that, when I was kid--back in those lean, desperate times when the selection of TV stations barely scraped the double digits--our local "Creature Features" show started featuring old serials as part of their line-up. This meant that every Saturday night, in the middle of a double feature along the lines of Godzilla vs. The Sea Monster and Agent For H.A.R.M., the host, with much ironic fanfare, would present a chapter of King of the Rocket Men, or Flash Gordon, or one of a number of other serials they showed in their entirety over the course of time. This viewing experience provided me with knowledge that allowed me in later years, while viewing the Turkish film Yilmayan Seytan, to remark, "Why, this film is nothing more than a slavish remake of the 1940 Republic serial The Mysterious Doctor Satan!" And, as all you guys out there know, having the kind of knowledge that enables you to let fly with pithy observations like that gets you a whole lot of the you-know-what. You feeling me, ladies?





But the boon that such knowledge was to my budding social life aside, my point is that I was basically able to see these serials as they were meant to be seen: in twenty minute chunks with a week separating them, so that I had enough time to forget just how exactly similar those chunks were before taking in the next one. As such, I was less bothered by how the serials, by nature of their structure and budgetary limitations, were extremely repetitive in their action from chapter to chapter, and depended a lot on expository dialog included to keep people abreast of a story that, for their audience, unfolded over a couple of months' time. Today most serials that are available for viewing at all can only be seen by way of DVDs which contain them in their entirety. And while it's still possible to watch them one chapter at a time, having them in such a format, the natural inclination is to watch them in a sitting as you would a regular movie--and if you want to have an experience that rapidly goes from being mildly engaging to tedious beyond all imagining, that is exactly what you should do. So, in short, young people, I'm going to let you slide on this one. In fact, I'm going to go so far as to say that, if you want a taste of what the Republic serials were like, but distilled down to their essence--and with a lot more near nudity and violence--you couldn't do much better than a Turkish film like Casus Kiran, aka Turkish Spy Smasher.

Now, I say "Republic Serials" not because Republic was the only studio that produced movie serials. It's just that, while other studios, such as Universal and Columbia, did produce them, they only did so as a sideline to their main business, whereas for Republic they were a primary focus. As such, Republic developed and honed the particulars of making these films to such an extent that they would serve as a model for makers of low budget action films the world over for years to come. The Republic method, first of all, was to recycle, recycle, recycle. Not just costumes and sets, but also story concepts and footage would be handed on from serial to serial, with scripts and action structured to accommodate as much hand-me-down content as possible. Secondly, the hands at Republic knew that the best way to keep things moving at a brisk pace without having to resort to too many costly stunts or special effects was to feature wild fist fights--featuring as many participants as possible--at regular intervals, a practice which became a studio trademark.





One young filmmaker who was paying attention to the lessons that Republic had to teach was Turkish director Yilmaz Atadeniz. In fact, Atadeniz would take his love of American serials and channel it into an entire subgenre within Turkish action cinema. His 1967 film Kilink Istanbul'da--which featured both a masked villain in a skeleton costume and a flying hero called Superman--was one of the earliest entries in a wave of masked hero films that would flood Turkish cinemas throughout the late sixties and into the seventies. These direly low budget features not only built upon Republic's model by including as many frenetic multi-person brawls as their running time could contain, but also took that studio's recycling ethos to new heights, borrowing freely not only from each other but from the whole of world cinema, lifting ideas and well-known characters--frequently even actual footage and musical scores--from Western films at will with no regard for copyrights. In Altadeniz's case, the homage to the American movie serials didn't stop at a simple appropriation of style, but went on to include actual remakes of them, such as his take on Columbia's The Phantom, Kizil Maske, and the film we'll be discussing here today, Casus Kiran, which was a remake of Republic's 1942 serial Spy Smasher.

Now, I haven't seen the original Spy Smasher, though I am aware that it's widely considered to be one of the best of the Republic serials. Being a recovered comic book nerd, however, I am familiar with Spy Smasher himself. The character originated in the pages of Fawcett's Whiz Comics, which was also the home of the original Captain Marvel before DC Comics sued him out of existence in the fifties (proving that the "D" in their name stood for "Douchebaggery"). When Republic set about bringing the character to the screen, they cast frequent serial star Kane Richmond in the role, and placed at the helm one of their premier directors, William Witney, who had also been responsible for the much lauded Adventures of Captain Marvel the previous year, as well as serial adaptations of Dick Tracy, Zorro and The Lone Ranger. The result proved enduring enough to merit a revival in the sixties and, following the success of the Batman TV series, was edited down to feature length for American TV under the title Spy Smasher Returns.





As originally presented, Spy Smasher was a patriotic wartime American hero who did battle against the axis powers. This means that some perhaps less than slight changes would have to be made to adapt him to a 1960s Turkish milieu. One of the most obvious of these in Casus Kiran is that the villains, rather than being Nazis or Japanese saboteurs, are simply rendered as all purpose enemies of Turkey of unknown political bent or national origin. Another change is a result of a certain tendency that these Turkish comic book adaptations have of always making things just a bit more sexy than their source material. As such, Spy Smasher is provided here with a female sidekick/girlfriend in the well-rounded form of Sevda (Sevda Ferda), who accomplishes her end of the spy smashing clad in a black leather tunic and matching knee-high boots. As for Spy Smasher himself, while his comic book incarnation looked like a cross between a superhero and a WWII era fighter pilot, Casus Kiran presents him kitted out in a form-fitting black ensemble complete with cape, Batman-like mask and conspicuously padded chest.

Casus Kiran was made in close proximity to Atadeniz' first series of Kilink films, and the director brings a lot of familiar faces over from those movies into the main cast here. Star Irfan Atasoy was an exhibitor and distributor who, at the time of Kilink Istanbul'da's inception, asked that he be given a starring role in the picture, as well as exclusive distribution rights in his territory, in return for providing financial backing. Atadeniz cast him as Kilink's nemesis Superman and would go on to use him as a hero in a number of subsequent films. Fortunately for all involved, Atasoy, in addition to deep pockets, also possessed the rugged good looks and robust physicality necessary for such roles, as he proves handily in his turn as Spy Smasher. Also present is Kilink himself, Yildirim Gencer, who here plays the masked villain, The Mask, as well as appearing unmasked as "Yildirim", which is simply The Mask posing as a mild mannered suitor of Sevda's in order to gain intelligence on Spy Smasher's operations. Finally we have Suzan Avci reprising her role of "Suzy", Kilink's sexy moll--only here she's "Suzy", the sexy moll of The Mask's number two man, The Black Glove (who doesn't wear a black glove, by the way).





Casus Kiran is a film that is in constant, rapid motion from beginning to end, presenting more of a continuous event than an actual story. One furious fight will lead to a furious chase, which in turn ends in yet another furious fight, and so on. As such, trying to impose the strictures of plot upon it is sort of like trying to identify the conflicts and character arcs within a hurricane or brush fire. Making that task even harder is the fact that, despite no doubt heroic efforts by Onar Films, the existing version is missing large chunks of its running time, with many scenes fading out or simply cutting off before they're resolved--suggesting in turn that there are other scenes that were probably lost entirely. Despite this, however, I will make my best effort to assign some kind of coherent structure to what I witnessed as I watched the film unfold.

The film begins with a rapid series of scenes showing spies committing various types of mayhem--mostly consisting of blowing stuff up--all over Istanbul. All of these spies are dressed in black with identical hats and skinny ties, which lends sort of an absurd, surrealist air to the proceedings. Over this, a narrator, stating the obvious, notes that spies have become a bit of a problem for Turkey, and then goes on to tell us about a "plucky young man" who, along with his girlfriend, has taken it upon himself to deal with that problem. Soon after that we see Spy Smasher and Sevda in action, roaring in on their motorcycle to the accompaniment of thundering surf music to shoot and punch the black hats into retreat. When the dust clears, the heroes have gotten their hands on a precious tape recording containing the names of all of the spies in Turkey--a tape that will prove to have little consequence at all to the plot, such as it is, of Casus Kiran.





Sevda is the daughter of police Detective Cavit, and she and Spy Smasher use the fruits of their clandestine crime-fighting activities to secretly help him in his investigations. Because of this, everyone thinks that Cavit is buddies with Spy Smasher and knows his real identity, which seems to really annoy him. The fact is he doesn't know, nor does he know of Sevda's involvement in Spy Smasher's activities, yet no one wants to hear it. By the time we meet the old guy, Cavit is so exasperated with this state of affairs that, whenever someone says that he and Spy Smasher must be really tight, what with all of his helping him with his investigations and everything, Cavit just says, basically, "Look, I could tell you I'm not, but you'll just say that I am anyway, so let's just drop it". Beyond the fact that they're sort of making Sevda's dad's life miserable in the course of helping him, another notable thing about Spy Smasher and Sevda is that he calls her "Darling", while she calls him "Spy Smasher".

Of course, all of those black hats aren't just running around blowing stuff up all over Turkey of their own accord. That sort of thing requires management, and what better way to meet the men--and woman--in charge than in a scene in which they slap around some chained women in lingerie. At the top of the organization, as I've mentioned before, is the appropriately named The Mask, with the more mysteriously named The Black Glove at his side. Suzy, in her role as moll, seems to mainly keep the home fires burning, but also serves a crucial function by performing some weird musical numbers in the seedy nightclub that rests atop the gang's headquarters (numbers that sound like traditional Turkish folk music despite Suzy being shown performing in front of a standard issue 1960s pop combo). The Mask and his spy ring's main activity seems to be counterfeiting, but there are also repeated references to "product" in "bags" that, in combination with the existence of a laboratory and some suggestions of tests done on human guinea pigs, seem to indicate that they are also involved in drug trafficking, though it's never entirely made clear. At the time of our meeting them, however, what they're really excited about is that they've kidnapped a British scientist whom they hope to use as bait to draw out a rival gang of spies they wish to eliminate. Spy Smasher and Sevda foil this plan, however, by barging in and rescuing the scientist as soon as The Mask's black hats have finished blowing the rival gang of black hats away.



With this The Mask decides that the gang's first order of business should be getting rid of Spy Smasher. He, too, has heard that Detective Cavit is cozy with the hero, and so Spy Smasher and Sevda's efforts to "help" her dad result in him being targeted by a ruthless gang of spies who will stop at nothing to get him to divulge information that he actually doesn't have. With this begins a series of attempts by the gang to kidnap Detective Cavit, which lead to a series of furious fights, chases, and narrow escapes. Somewhere in all this The Mask starts showing up at the Cavit residence in the guise of Yildirim, Sevda's suitor. To be honest, you're not supposed to realize that Yildirim is The Mask, but I don't feel that telling you counts as a "spoiler", since trying to maintain an air of mystery around the villain's identity in a film in which Yildirim Gencer appears is a pretty futile endeavor--much as it would be in a Bollywood movie that featured Amrish Puri or Amjad Khan in the cast. Anyway, knowing that Yildirim is The Mask will make you appreciate all the more the hilarity of one particular scene in which The Mask's goons invade the Cavit home during one of Yildirim's visits. When the black hats pressure Sevda to reveal Spy Smasher's identity, she--apparently weary of Yildirim's advances--fingers him as Spy Smasher, and the black hats, apparently also unaware that Yildirim is their boss, give him a thorough working over, during which one of the goons tells him that he "looks like a duck" without his mask on.

In addition to each other, Spy Smasher and Sevda also have a constantly muttering comic relief sidekick, Bidik, who performs a number of undercover assignments for them. These invariably seem to result in Bidik bringing back information that leads Spy Smasher and Sevda into a trap, necessitating that they engage in yet more furious fights followed by chases which end in fights. The inclusion of such a sidekick is just one of many similarities that Casus Kiran bears to a slightly later Turkish film, 1969's Iron Claw the Pirate. This is no real surprise, as Iron Claw was directed by Cetin Inanc, a longtime assistant to Atadeniz who was also the screenwriter of Casus Kiran. Like Casus Kiran, Iron Claw features motorcycle riding boyfriend and girlfriend masked heroes doing battle with a masked villain determined to bring ruin to Turkey--though in the case of Iron Claw that villain was none other than Fantomas. One thing that I think Casus Kiran has over Iron Claw, however, is that, as the female half of the team, Casus Kiran's Sevda gets a much better shake than Iron Claw's girl hero Mine, who tended to get sidelined a lot and didn't seem to play a part in the action equal to that of the male hero. Sevda, on the other hand, despite Spy Smasher's top billing, gets an equal amount of screen time and plays a comparable part in the action, even coming to Spy Smasher's rescue on occasion.



As Casus Kiran nears its conclusion, The Mask, finding the entirety of his operation foiled by Spy Smasher, starts to plan his exit from the country. As one last, generous act of silliness, he determines that this move necessitates the casting of the gang's massive supply of gold "into the mold for armchairs". The resulting armchairs look like passenger seats from a commercial airliner, which I think may make this an instance of a plot point that is purely salvage-driven. In any case, The Mask's refusal to travel light proves to be his undoing, and the delay allows Spy Smasher and Sevda to catch up with him, leading to the final furious chase and fistfight.

More than any of the other examples of Turkish pulp cinema I've watched, Casus Kiran seemed to have a sort of dreamlike quality. Even after repeated viewings, I still had difficulty maintaining a grasp on its details, as if it had somehow eluded comprehension by way of its combined surreal velocity and faded, ghost-like appearance. A state of hypnosis seemed to set in soon after I pressed "play", as if I was watching less a movie than a screen saver featuring men in black hats and skinny ties being perpetually hurled back and forth to a soundtrack of pilfered surf music. Given this, I have to marvel anew at what is one of the true wonders of world genre cinema: that an inspiration as prosaic as old American movie serials could result in an experience so strange and almost uniquely un-movie like in its effect as Casus Kiran. Though it's a movie of many--if perhaps somewhat simple--pleasures, I think that it is this hallucinatory kick that I treasure most of what I took away from it. It just serves to confirm that, as drugs of choice go, mine--meaning. batshit insane movies like Casus Kiran--is a very good choice indeed.

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Monday, April 14, 2008

Iron Claw the Pirate


Release Year: 1969
Country: Turkey
Starring: Demir Karahan, Yildirim Gencer, Feri Cansel, Huseyin Zan, Nebahat Cehre, Danyal Topathan, Faruk Panter, Behcet Nakar, Hakki Haktan, Muammer Gozalan, Cetin Dagpelen, Osman Karahan, Ahmet Senses
Director: Cetin Inanc
Writers: Erdogan Avci, Kamil Ersahin
Cinematographer: Rafet Siriner
Producer: Isik Toraman
Original Title: Demir Pence Korsan Adam
Availability: Buy it from Xploited Cinema.
Promote It: Digg | del.icio.us


In the course of doing my usual rigorous research in preparation for bringing you the most carefully considered review of Iron Claw the Pirate possible, I came upon some information that seemed to suggest that it was the second film in a series of Iron Claw movies. That made sense to me, because Iron Claw the Pirate is a film that seems to start in progress, without any introduction of the characters or ongoing conflicts. However, what makes sense does not always prove to be so--especially in the case of Turkish action cinema--and I later determined that I had misinterpreted that information. In fact, it was Iron Claw the Pirate that was the first film, followed immediately by its sequel, Demir Pence Casuslar Savasi. Still, the reality of the situation makes its own kind of sense, simply because that's just the way that these movies are. Any amount of exposition or character development would most likely have been seen by the makers of Iron Claw the Pirate as a waste of valuable time that could otherwise have been devoted to fist fights, shootouts, and fleshy women doing exotic dances.

Iron Claw was directed by Cetin Inanc, a man who would cement his place in film history with 1982's The Man Who Saves the World, aka Turkish Star Wars, a film that married stolen special effects footage from Star Wars with footage of graying he-man Cuneyt Arkin kicking around boulders and fighting monsters with giant paper mache heads. But long before that career milestone, Inanc got his start as an assistant to director Yilmaz Atadeniz. As most fans of Turkish pulp cinema know, Atadeniz is the inspired lunatic whose obsession with comic books and American movie serials lead to the film that would kick off the 1960s wave of Turkish costumed hero movies, Kilink Instanbul'da (Kilink in Istanbul). That film set a template that would remain largely unchanged until the Turkish superhero boom finally waned in the early seventies, a combination of the serials' nonstop two-fisted action and gee-whiz heroics with a greezy dose of S&M tinged sleaze. Inanc's first directing break came courtesy of Atadeniz, who put him in charge of his production of Kizil Mask, a remake of the Columbia serial The Phantom, based on Lee Falk's comic strip hero. Though Atadeniz later said that he regretted that decision, Inanc obviously got the hang of things by the time of making Iron Claw. In fact, the movie is so similar in every way to Atadeniz's own Casus Kiran (a remake of the Republic serial Spy Smasher), made just a year earlier, that because I watched both in quick succession, I've had to keep going back while writing this to make sure that I wasn't confusing their details.




Simply put, Iron Claw is a superhero whose superpower is shooting people. It's quite practical as superpowers go, and well suited to the fact that all of Iron Claw's opponents are just as heavily armed and trigger happy as he is--a situation that would no doubt leave Aquaman, with his ability to summon whales and seahorses, flummoxed. Despite the film's title, there's nothing really pirate-y about Iron Claw--he's very cozy with the police, for one thing--and everyone just refers to him as "Iron Claw", without the occupational appellation, or simply as Demir, which is the name of his alter ego (played by Demir Karahan, in just one of the film's examples of its cast not being trusted to respond to names that are different from their own). His costume appears to be mask optional, as sometimes he wears one and sometimes he doesn't--which is understandable, because he's a damn good looking dude. The rest of it reminds me of the space suits from Bava's Planet of the Vampires: black leather with white piping, though augmented with a weird square belt buckle with a face on it that looks like one of the blockheads from Gumby as forged by some kid in his metal shop class. Rounding out the ensemble is a whip that Iron Claw waves around when he's not just shooting everybody.

Shooting people alongside Iron Claw is his girlfriend, Mine, dressed in a similar though more revealing costume. I always think it's sweet when the Turks do this (Spy Smasher and Captain America were both given girlfriend sidekicks in their movies, too); it's as if they don't want their superheroes to get lonely--even though I know that it's really just an excuse to have a fleshy woman running around in a leather mini and thigh boots. For the first half of the movie I kept thinking of Mine as "unnamed female accomplice", because it took that long for someone to actually refer to her. Even when she'd barge into the crooks' den at Iron Claw's side and start shooting everybody in the face (seemingly the preferred target), all that the bad guys would shout was "Iron Claw!", as if she wasn't even there. Of course, exclaiming "Oh, look. It's Iron Claw and his unnamed female accomplice" might be a lot to ask of someone who's being shot in the face. Still, I noticed her at least; she looked great in her costume, and very cool alongside Iron Claw as the two of them sped along on their twin motorcycles. Not even Iron Claw ends up giving her much respect, though, since at one point he beds a sexy enemy agent to the accompaniment of drunken saxophone music (all part of the job, of course) and doesn't seem to think twice about lying to her about it.




As far as I can tell, the character of Iron Claw is an original, if somewhat generic, creation. But lest you should begin to think that Iron Claw the Pirate is a Turkish action film that's completely free of flagrant copyright violations, let me point out that its villain is none other than that dastardly French import Fantomas. This was not the first time that Fantomas had made an appearance in Turkish cinema--he headlined Fantomas: Appointment in Istanbul in 1967, and would go on to face off against Superman in 1969's Supermen Fantom'ya Karsi--and the choice of him as a villain was no doubt inspired by the success of the Kilink movies. Given that, its a very good one as choices go, because Fantomas is the very seed from which Kilink ultimately sprouted. Created in the early years of the last century by French pulp novelists Pierre Souvestre and Marcel Allain, the masked criminal genius would go on to be a durable fixture in European pop culture, featured in everything from comics to movies to television, and would ultimately be the inspiration for the comic character Diabolik, who would in turn inspire imitations in the form of Kriminal and Kilink, who again in turn would be translated by the aforementioned Yilmaz Atadeniz into the skeleton-garbed evil mastermind Kilink. (Fantomas would even, like Kilink's inspiration Killing, be the subject of his own photo comic during the early sixties.)

Fantomas himself would go through many incarnations in his lifetime, but it appears to me that the version on view in Iron Claw is based on the one seen in the 1960s series of Fantomas movies directed by Andre Hunebelle. Those films cast the actor Jean Marais in a double role as both Fantomas and as his arch enemy, the reporter Fandor--and in an interesting interpretation of that, Iron Claw fits Fantomas with a reporter alter ego. Iron Claw seems also to be going for Fantomas' general look from those films, specifically the head-enveloping, skintight blue mask that obscures all of his features but his eyes. Only in Iron Claw's case that is accomplished by means of the actor wearing a black ski mask and having all of his visible features, including his ears, darkened with bootblack. Regardless of lineage, however, Iron Claw's Fantomas is clearly a villain in the Kilink mode, slapping around women (and worse) while calling them "honey" and "baby", and having no qualms about thinning his own HR pool by blowing away underperforming minions at the drop of a hat.




And speaking of Kilink, also on hand is the man himself, Yildrim Gencer--only in this rare instance he's not playing the masked villain, but rather a two-fisted secret agent (named "Yildrim", of course) who fights alongside Iron Claw in his battle against Fantomas. I had heard ugly rumors that Gencer had on occasion stepped away from his evil-doing duties and played on the side of right, and I'm happy to report that he here makes a very dashing hero--though, needless to say, a brooding one who's always dressed in black. As demonstrated by the Kilink films, Gencer wasn't one to shy from rough and tumble stunt work (not that I imagine much of a choice existed for the actors who wanted to appear in these movies), and the teaming of him with the equally game Demir Karahan makes for some especially kinetic set pieces. Also in Gencer's favor is his mustache, which is possessed of exactly the level of gravity and presence that you'd want in a mustache worn by a brooding, black clad action hero; it's just a shame that he and Maurizio Merli never met onscreen to pit those two noble beasts against one another in a steely-eyed, musk- drunken 'stache-off.

As I mentioned earlier, the plot of Iron Claw the Pirate joins us in progress, with Fantomas vowing to come to Turkey to take "revenge" for something or other that we, the audience, are never made privy to. He also says something about settling things with Iron Claw personally, which is weird, because once he's in Turkey, he doesn't appear to have any idea who Iron Claw is. Next we are shown Iron Claw being handed a revolver and holster by someone off-screen, after which Iron Claw also vows to take revenge for something that isn't at all alluded to. Then Fantomas arrives in Istanbul and meets with the agents who have been doing his dirty work in his absence. These include Cancel (Feri Cansel) a sexy spy/exotic dancer, and Behcet (Behcet Nakar), a big guy with muttonchops who wears a leopard print fur hat and, inexplicably, what looks to be a steel oven mitt. Behcet, aside from being an edgy dresser, has a gift for letting fly with exactly the type of colorful oaths that we'd like to think we can count on from the Turks, like when he says of Iron Claw, "I'll make him spit out his mother's milk".

Fantomas' first order of business is to consolidate all of the enemy agents in Turkey under his power, and so a meeting is called. Because Iron Claw and Mine have a comedy relief sidekick called "The Uncle" who works undercover as a janitor at the strip club where Fantomas' men meet to discuss all of their plans (a fact which, once established, relieves the movie of ever having to provide any explanation for why Iron Claw is able to show up wherever Fantomas and his men are every single time), the masked heroes find out about the meeting and barge in, guns blazing. During the ensuing melee, Iron Claw's policeman pal Yilmaz is mortally wounded. A tear-filled death scene follows that would probably be really poignant if we hadn't just met Yilmaz about thirty seconds ago. After that, Yilmaz's brother--i.e Yildrim, the brooding secret agent--comes to town looking for payback and, after a really confusing scene in which he and The Uncle both appear to be pretending to be agents of Fantomas, is granted an introduction to Iron Claw and Mine. The three then agree to join forces to take Fantomas and his gang down.




Like the old serials that inspired them, these films offer a pretty set and predictable range of motivations for their villains, and here what Fantomas is after is a certain professor who has in his possession a microfilm containing something that it was apparently determined wasn't worth mentioning to the audience--and who also, predictably, has a beautiful young daughter. Unlike in those old serials, however, Fantomas ends up shooting that kindly old professor to death and then slaughtering his daughter on a sacrificial altar, so chalk one up for unpredictability. Before that can happen, however, we have scenes in which Fantomas' gang must hoodwink the local mafia in order to get their hands on the professor, which leads to much shooting of people, and then a series of scenes in which Iron Claw, Mine and Yildrim attempt to rescue the professor and his daughter, which leads to even more shooting of people, especially in the face.

Beyond the whole microfilm thing, Fantomas doesn't really appear to have any one grand plan, like blowing up the moon, or making the world's gold supply smell like cheese. He more seems to have his hand in a lot of different pots, happy to stir up trouble for the Turkish people in whatever way he can. At one point he's showing off a weapons factory, then some kind of superboat that he's constructing, and then there's something that involves all kinds of boxes of TNT that he's having shipped in. It was definitely wise for him to diversify in this manner, because Iron Claw and his crew invariably show up to foil whatever evil project he's most recently announced. Because of that we don't ever get to see any of these schemes that Fantomas has been crowing about come to fruition, which made me wonder why, given that it wouldn't have impacted the film's budget in the least, the filmmakers didn't have him aim higher. After all, it doesn't cost anything to have your villain just talk about blowing up the moon. And, to give credit where credit is due, the actor who played Fantomas was really good at talking up those plans, employing a dynamic repertoire of stylized hand gestures the likes of which have not been seen since Spectreman's Dr. Gori.




Like other Turkish movies of the period, Iron Claw the Pirate was made without recourse to even the most primitive optical effects. (To put it in perspective, the documentary included with the DVD mentions how Inanc wowed the Turkish film industry in the early 1970s with his pioneering use of slow motion.) The titles are printed on cards, and a scene in which Fantomas and his gang address their Turkish counterparts via a two-way TV screen is accomplished by having the actors stand behind a facade with a screen-shaped hole cut in it. Likewise, the visual style is for the most part unadorned, with the camera simply struggling to capture the scope and velocity of all of the action that's taking place. This makes moments of inventiveness stick out all the more when they occur, as does one particularly clever shot in which a long downward pan appears to show simultaneous action occurring on several different levels of a house at once. A similar technique is used for a strange, wordless scene in which Fantomas rides a lift up the face of that same structure--a scene that struck me as having a vaguely French new wave feel to it, like something out of Alphaville. Often these films, because of the crudity of their execution and the datedness of their influences, can seem as if they're suspended in some kind of alternate reality--until moments like these remind you otherwise, and you realize that the players in the then still young Turkish film industry were eagerly studying the world cinematic landscape for techniques and elements of style that they could experiment with.

Alongside their other obvious, albeit ramshackle, charms, Turkish costumed adventure pictures like Iron Claw can hit a nostalgic nerve for those of us whose childhoods included our own backyard superhero epics made with the family camcorder of super 8. Despite some niftier costumes, and the fact that their stars were actually old enough to drive, in a lot of cases the production values aren't that far beyond what a bunch of kids with some imagination and a few summer afternoons to kill could cook up. In the case of Iron Claw, for instance, Fantomas' haunted house HQ consists of a sheet with and "F" stenciled on it, some carpet remnants, and not a whole lot else. As with those home movie epics, however, what Iron Claw lacks in resources, it makes up for in enthusiasm, and when its time for a fight scene, the actors go at it with all the hyperactive vigor of a bunch of eight year olds hopped up on sugar and Ultraman reruns. Completing the picture is the ADD-like inattention to the intricacies of plot, which by means of its impatience renders the story little more than a thin and cursory connective tissue between those fight scenes. All of these factors combine with the paradoxical result of imbuing films which are the product of an industry that was no doubt about as mercenary and cutthroat as they come with a winning innocence, even as those films are actively trying to counter that innocence with another scene of sadism or tawdry burlesque.




While it's not the purpose of Teleport City to serve as a DVD buyer's guide, I did want to point out before closing that, of the Turkish films of its vintage so far released by Onar Films, Iron Claw the Pirate is one of the better looking ones; though the picture is still soft, it's largely free of the severe print damage that marred the first two Kilink pictures. Of course, seeing as no efforts were ever made to preserve these films, we're lucky to be able to see them in any condition, but it's nice nonetheless when you're able to watch one without the effect of doing so through a sheet of grimy cellophane. I'd also like to thank Onar for making these films available for us to see, because I doubt anyone is getting rich off of releasing titles like Casus Kiran and 3 Dev Adam, and the least we can do is let them know we appreciate it (oh, and also buy the damn things).

For myself, I would like to believe that watching Iron Claw the Pirate enriched my life in some imperceptible--if perhaps stupid--way, even though it really just represents another ninety minutes of my life spent watching grown men in masks punching and shooting one another. At the very least, my wealth of experience in that one particular and very limited activity allows me to say with authority that Iron Claw the Pirate is indeed a very good ninety minutes of grown men in masks punching and shooting one another. Of course, that is as it should be, since the industry it was a product of seems to have taken as its primary mission the refining of such films down to their purest and most pleasurable elements.

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posted by Todd at | 0 Comments


Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Kilink Strip and Kill

Release Year: 1967
Country: Turkey
Starring: Yildirim Gencer, Sevda Nur, Suzan Avci, Devlet Devrim, Reha Yurdakul, Meric Basaran, Cahit Irgat.
Writer: Yilmaz Atadeniz
Director: Yilmaz Atadeniz
Cinematographer: Ali Ugur
Music: John Barry and James Bernard, among others, though I doubt any of them were aware of their contributions to the Kilink franchise
Producer: Yilmaz Atadeniz and Seref Gur
Original Title: Kilink Soy ve Oldur
Availability: Buy it from Xploited Cinema.



Upon sitting down to write a review of the third film in the long-running Turkish Kilink series, I feared I had painted myself into a bit of a corner. As much as I love the Kilink films -- and believe me, I love them -- I didn't know exactly what was left to say about them. Other than a couple paragraphs dedicated to recounting the basic plot of the film, there was precious little back material I could use to fill in a whole review. Kilink's dubious history as a copyright violation of a copyright violation was covered in previous reviews. Its growth out of the Italian fumetti and fumetti-inspired films was similarly covered. Since solid information on Turkish cult cinema is difficult to find, even in the Turkish language, I wasn't really brimming over with a wealth of material I could fall back on. And yet, I find that I am both physically and mentally incapable of not reviewing a movie called Kilink Strip and Kill in which a grown man dresses up in a skeleton themed body stocking and punches out dudes with thick Luis Tiant mustaches and black suits with white ties.

However, after finishing the movie, which I have to say is the best of the three Kilink films I've had a chance to see, I discovered that I was in luck, at least to some small degree, for Strip and Kill does offer up a couple topics worth exploring further. Chief among those would be the fact that Kilink begins, against the better efforts of the first two movies, to follow the same trajectory as Kriminal and Killing, the two skeleton-suit sporting Italian super-villains who quickly became celebrated anti-heroes no matter how dastardly and devious their schemes may have been.


Turkish adventure cinema was, traditionally, characterized by a very clear cut definition of good and evil. You knew who the hero was, and you knew you were going to root for the hero. Plus, you knew that, despite all obstacles thrown into his path, the hero was going to triumph. Turkish audiences did not appreciate ambivalence, shades of grays, or the concept of the anti-hero. Although Turkish cinema often looked to the West and their roots in Europe for inspiration and source material, the Turkish preference for clear cut heroes and villains was one very much in line with the Eastern roots -- specifically, the films of India, where a similar preference for explicitly drawn borders between good and evil were the order of the day.

When Kilink first found his way onto Turkish movie screens, he fit very comfortably into this mold. Kilink was vile. He was pitted against a do-gooding magical flying superman in striped undies, and there was no doubt that you were supposed to be rooting for the good guy. There were several problems with this, however. First, though it may have one foot in Europe and the other in Central Asia, but there was no way the social turmoil of the 1960s was going to fail to have an effect on Turkey. Europe was cranking out all sorts of films that were infused with the decade's paranoia and distrust of authority figures, as well as reflecting the overall disillusionment with the concept of clear-cut good. Less socially important, but perhaps more likely the more probably main cause, Kilink was just way cooler than Superhero. I mean, sure, Superhero had Batman's mask, and a suit with padded muscles built into it. And he had those striped panties that I'm pretty sure he bought at Phantom's last Skull Cave yard sale. And he could fly and lift large slabs of granite in order to impress Odin or whoever the hell that old man was who randomly appeared in a cemetery and gave him all those powers.


But the problem Superhero faced, and the problem many superheroes face, is that it's way more fun to explore the bad guy's character. Superhero may have been the good guy, but the movie was called Kilink Istanbul'da. Superhero got his name in the second film, Kilink Ucan Adama Karsi, but it was almost an afterthought. It was clear, even by the second film, that people were coming to the theater to see Kilink. And why not? Superhero behaved properly and, when not bust flying, lived a quiet, typical life, so long as "quiet, typical life" includes being friends with scientists who have a tendency to be stalked by murderous madmen in skeleton costumes. But while Superhero was busy sitting in a living room, drinking tea and making plans for a picnic, Kilink was dressed up as a skeleton, making love to a procession of gorgeous ladies, watching scantily clad dancing girls, kidnapping scientists, and shooting chumps with his Luger. You sort of hit a dead end exploring a one-dimension good guy, but a bad guy? There's almost no end to the wild exploits in which you can involve the bad guy.

Of course, then arises the question of at what point does the bad guy stop being the bad guy? In the case of Kilink, it happens with Kilink Strip and Kill. Where as he'd spent the last two movies menacing Turkey and killing innocent people, the Kilink we meet in this film -- while still obviously the same man -- is gently transported into the realm of only killing the criminal and corrupt. He's still out to steal gold and foil the cops, but the days when he was kidnapping the hero's pretty wife and slapping her around have been quickly dismissed. In fact, Superhero disappears entirely from this film, which picks up immediately after Kilink's apparent death at Superhero's hands while fighting atop a tower. Even though the final scene of Kilink Ucan Adama Karsi becomes the first scene of Kilink Strip and Kill, there is absolutely no mention of Superhero. It is as if he never existed. It is obvious that, even though he's still dressed as a skeleton and calling women "baby," the nominal protagonist this time around, and the obvious focus of the film, is Kilink.


In this sense, Kilink follows the exact same path as Killing, the Italian comic book and photo-novel character who "inspired" Kilink. Killing was, himself, a thinly veiled -- or not veiled at all -- rip-off of Kriminal, who was himself heavily influenced by the grand-daddy of all Italian fumetti anti-heroes, Diabolik. If Diabolik was a Cecil B. DeMille epic, and Kriminal was the lavish Dino De Laurentis copy, then Killing was the sleazy Cannon Group version of that (never mind that the Diabolik film really was a Dino De Laurentis production). Killing was a flat-out jerk. Rapist, madman, blackmailer, extortionist, not to mention prone to brandishing his pistol while women clung longingly to his leg. And yet, no matter how vile he behaved, no matter what horrifying scheme he dreamed up, Killing became if not a "good" guy, then at least an anti-hero. It would seem inevitable, then, that the same fate would befall Kilink, even given the difference in aesthetic between Turkish and other European audiences. And so, with this film, it comes to pass.

We open, as I said, with the scene from the last film in which Kilink falls to his death, yet still manages to taunt the assembled crowds via a public address system that seems to have been set up specifically so Kilink could taunt people. There is, as best as anyone can tell, absolutely no way Kilink could have escaped his fate. He is fighting Superhero. He falls to his death in the middle of a gathering of onlookers. The police are already on the scene and examining Kilink's body. And yet all of a sudden, Kilink is somewhere else, laughing into the PA system and probably intentionally causing it to emit ear-piercing feedback...because that's just how evil Kilink is, baby! Strip and Kill sees no real reason to reconcile Kilink's apparent escape from death with any sort of serial-like unseen twist. It simply assumes that the best thing to do is say, "Here is Kilink's dead body...oh no!" without any proper explanation of how he goes from being a corpse getting poked at by cops to being a guy sitting in his posh living room, drinking martinis with his sexy girlfriend, Suzy (Suzan Avci, reprising her role from the first two films). Writer-director Yilmaz Atadeniz's attitude toward this seems to be, "Look, do you want a convoluted explanation of how Kilink escaped, or do you just want to watch a guy dressed as a skeleton punch out a dude with an eyepatch?" And I think the right decision was made.


We soon learn that Kilink has to attend a conference in New York, and I was instantly chilled by the thought of Kilink checking his Blackberry obsessively while sitting in a board room where Killing was explaining the robust, enterprise-wide solution that would shift the paradigm of the entire "grown men dressed up as skeletons" corporation. That said, I also started thinking about how much cooler my own conferences and meetings would be if I or someone started showing up to them wearing a black body stocking with bones painted on it. Anyway, it turns out that Kilink's conference is actually comprised of members of a secret criminal society who all wear hoods when they gather -- even though they all already know each other, and they all take their hoods off as soon as the meeting is adjourned. Kilink, it seems, was not officially invited to the pow-wow, but that doesn't stop him from showing up, killing one of the criminals, and taking his place.

It seems this mysterious group is determined to steal microfilm that details the location of Turkey's various missile defense installations. Kilink seems to take some degree of personal offense at this, even though he just spent the entire last two movies menacing Turkey with a flame thrower and assorted taunts. I reckon he figures threatening Turkey is his birthright, and he's not going to let some uppity bunch of outsiders intrude on his turf. As far as Turkey itself is concerned, if you spent the last two movies being terrorized by a guy dressed as a skeleton, having your next threat be from a group of regular old gangsters just seems sort of underwhelming. Things get complicated for Kilink when a rival Turkish crime boss gets in on the picture, introducing as well a subplot about stolen gold that Kilink is going to want to be having for himself. The entire thing ends up with Kilink playing the good guy as he systematically dismantles and destroys the two criminal/spy rings -- and by systematic, I mean he disguises himself, then a few seconds later rips off the disguise and yells "Kilink is here!" while diving off a hill and onto a group of stuntmen.

The story for Strip and Kill was apparently lifted more or less wholesale from an issue of the Killing photo-comics. Unlike the previous films, which existed within the realm of superhero fantasy thanks to the presence of Superhero/Superman, Strip and Kill is pure Eurospy/fumetti adventure. There are no magic powers, no ancient gods appearing in a puff of smoke -- just a dude in a skeleton suit scheming against a bunch of guys in skinny ties. Strip and Kill eschews the trappings of old Superman adventures and exists solely within the realm of James Bond and Diabolik. The series benefits from this departure. Injecting a superhero into the fumetti formula was fun on a purely "what the hell am I witnessing" level, but as a whole, it just didn't click. Superhero seemed like a guy who wandered in from an entirely different movie, and when your character is invincible and super-strong and fighting henchmen whose sole power is to wear genie pants and sultan shirts with a giant "K" taped to them, it doesn't make for especially thrilling action sequences. You know you're mostly going to see a shot of someone throwing something at Superhero, followed by a shot of that object bouncing harmlessly off his chest. With the yoke of superpowers removed from the formula, however, Strip and Kill is free to cram itself full of kinetic fight scenes involving Kilink kicking people and jumping off overpasses. Neither of the previous two films were short on action, but with the super powered guy discarded, and along with him the lengthy domestic scenes that accompanied his human identity, Strip and Kill can get down to some serious, no-nonsense skeleton guy action.


If there is a weakness in Strip and Kill, it is the final scene, which is a bit of a let-down after we've just watched half an hour's worth of film that included car chases, foot chases, a big fight in a cemetery, various fights along the road, high speed car chases, and all of the good stuff you expect from a movie with a title like Strip and Kill. But all things considered, Strip and Kill generates more than enough goodwill to make up for the final scene of our lovable rascal surrendering tot he police and expounding on their virtues. After all, you can see him turning the whole thing into a taunt for the opening scene of the next film. I should also note that at no point does Kilink himself strip and kill, and the title actually represents a proper division of labor. Kilink handles the killing portion of the job, and the stripping is left to the steady procession of astoundingly beautiful women these films seem to present to Kilink so he can slap them and make move to them -- although this time he only goes so far as to slap and make love to the evil ones. In a departure from the last film, he even gets riled up and angry when his rivals kidnap an innocent woman and her child. Luckily, this movie is full of hot, evil women, so Kilink doesn't want for sexy dames to kill even if he's laid off the innocent ones. Plus, he's always got faithful Suzy and her vast array of slinky cocktail dresses and revealing bikinis by his side.


There's precious little point to discussing the acting. The movie was dubbed in post-production, as was common for low budget films at the time, and the main character spends the entire movie in a skeleton mask. The supporting cast is on hand to look devious and/or sultry, and this they accomplish. Actor Yildirim Gencer, who plays Kilink, went on to star in a number of relatively well-known and remembered cult adventure films, including more fumetti-inspired fare like Spy Smasher, Iron Claw the Pirate, as the infamous "Turkish Superman" film Supermen Donuyor, as well as appearing in the Turkish giallo Thirsty for Love, Sex and Murder and the Cuneyt Arkin adventure Kara Murat Olum Emri. He died fairly recently, in 2005, probably before he could hear his old collaborator Yilmaz Atadeniz talking about resurrecting the Kilink franchise. Kilink's sole reliable compatriot, Suzan Avci, is still active in Turkish cinema and television. The relationship between her and Kilink is one for the ages, not unlike the relationship between Diabolik and his woman. They seem to exist on a level beyond morality. Plus, she looks drop dead gorgeous in a bikini.

Although it represents a transitional softening of the title character, Strip and Kill is easily my favorite of the three Kilink films I've seen. I don't know if subsequent films continue along the same trajectory, with Kilink as the super-cool anti-hero who foils the plans of other criminals while still finding time to befuddle whatever the Turkish version of Scotland Yard may be. There's not much reason to mourn Kilink only killing bad guys when there are just so many bad guys on hand to kill. Strip and Kill is full of action, and I really like the move away from comic book superheroism and toward the world of espionage adventure. It suits a character like Kilink much better to be matching wits with femme fatales and guys with eyepatches and pointed goatees. With any luck, someone will manage to turn up additional films in the Kilink series, but old Turkish cult films are notoriously difficult to track down, with many of them truly being lost forever and those that are around enjoying almost no interest at all from fans in Turkey or anywhere else.

There are plenty of other Turkish films inspired by Italian fumetti heroes as well, and it seems fitting that these two halves of the former Roman empire would come together once again, centuries later, to create a body of work in which dudes in body stockings strapped lugers to their waist, grabbed a sexy dame with one hand, and used the other to pick the pockets of both the governments and the movie-going public of the world. I know, for one, that as long as these guys and their movies are out there, I'll keep watching.

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Friday, November 09, 2007

Dunyayi Kurtaran Adam'in Oglu

2006, Turkey. Starring Mehmet Ali Erbal, Burcu Kara, Deniz Seki, Burak Hakki, Cuneyt Arkin, Burak Sergin, Didem Erol, Ismail Incekara. Written by Murat Boyacioglu. Directed by Kartal Tibet.

*Sigh*

I heard numerous times over several years that there was going to be a sequel to Turkish Star Wars. I heard it would have Cuneyt Arkin in it. And I really hoped that those were just fruitless rumors. They weren't. So, with a heavy heart and low expectations, I went ahead and hoped that maybe it was a fitting tribute to the original film.

I've now seen it. It's not. And it's really not worth even seeking out to find out for yourself. Coming from a man who owns Zombie Ninja Gangbangers, I think that's saying a lot.

Imagine if Empire Strikes Back had been more of a combination of the "witty dialogue" and general emptiness of Phantom Menace, and mix that with the paroxysm-inducing variety show humor and irrelevance of the Star Wars Holiday Special. We'll keep a minimal amount of Phantom Menace's soulless special effects, but nix all of the action sequences and any parts where anything really happens. We won't have a Jar-Jar Binks anymore per se, but we'll dissolve him into a thin slime that just casts a pall over the entire film, so that instead of one odiously unfunny character, we'll just have many awkwardly unfunny ones. From the Holiday Special, we'll be particularly careful to adopt the concept of weak, meaningless cameos, and the capacity to inspire a general sense of outrage in the viewer as (s)he realizes that this has nothing to do with the film that the title refers to.

Or, if you'd like a different way of thinking of the film... Imagine a script written so that it winks so hard at the viewer that it's probably tearing connective tissue in its face. A family-friendly script which attempts to tell a very coherent, cliched tale of a long-lost twin brother, unrequited love, and an evil man who seeks to destroy the world (and if the last part sounds like it could force some excitement, don't worry, because we'll keep him offscreen for almost the entire film). All humor, by the way, will be extremely obvious, poorly thought out, and even more poorly delivered, divided between 1) topical humor about such issues as Turkey joining the EU and 2) half-assed attempts at reminding people of how funny Turkish Star Wars was.

According to the Internet Movie Database, writer Murat Boyacioglu had never before written a script. I would not be shocked if he never does again, even for community theater or an extemporaneous zombie film involving a few friends, a few bottles of ketchup, and a few bottles of raki or a few cases of beer.

Director Kartal Tibet is best known -- to Americans anyway -- for his starring roles in action movies such as the Tarkan and Karaoglan films. It seems like he mostly directs comedies these days... I'm in no position to judge his directorial abilities overall, and I'll still give him the benefit of the doubt in the future, but I don't know what the fuck he was thinking here.

Now, to be fair... it's a tall order to write a sequel to Turkish Star Wars. Even taller, I would argue, than writing prequels to the real Star Wars trilogy. What? No, really. I tire of taking potshots at Lucas; I think that no matter what he did, this far into the game he was just not going to be able to satisfy the ridiculously high expectations of rabid Star Wars fandom. The new films weren't going to be as groundbreaking for the general public as the original Star Wars was, and there was no way that he could completely satisfy the niche audience who knows Star Wars trivia better than the backs of their hands. Now, the incredibly horrible dialogue, the creation of Jar Jar, and the imbecilic deployment of James Earl Jones in a vocal cameo that even Satan himself couldn't have designed more sadistically... well, that's a different, and very rotten, can of worms.

But Turkish Star Wars over two decades later presents a very different set of problems for the aspiring filmmakers. First off, if you're making the film for mainstream audiences, Turkish or worldwide, you can't steal footage and music from mainstream American movies anymore. That difficulty by itself opened the film up to criticism, as some cult fans of the original film wanted a sequel to do the same, but I don't see a way around compliance with copyright laws these days, especially in a major production.

Second, the original film was an unparalleled combination of manic-but-incompetent action, surreal and incomprehensible dialogue, baffling and unidentifiable character/monster/costume design, and a basic approach that answered every question about plot or character development with a swing of Cuneyt Arkin's fists. Even if you don't enjoy Turkish Star Wars -- which, by the way, means that something's depressingly wrong with you -- you have to admit that it's a pretty hard act to follow.

To that, you might object that Turkish Star Wars is stranger and more incomprehensible to Americans than to Turks, I suppose...but you'd mostly be wrong, just so you know. The film was as baffling to its original Turkish audiences as it is to anyone who has watched it serial-style on YouTube. The nonsensicality of the dialogue is not a reflection of idiosyncratic Turkish thought; it's just very nonsensical dialogue, and ditto the appropriation of outside film and musical sources, and the costume design, and everything else.

Besides, the ensuing couple of decades have changed Turkish filmgoers' expectations in terms of budget, writing, production values, special effects, etc. Whether that's better or worse is up to you to decide, but it's no longer the sort of country where a national release can be made by a couple of guys who raided a janitor's closet for props and costumes.

I could go on about all this, but I guess it'd be better to talk about the movie itself somehow.

The story has become as follows: the Man Who Saved the World (they got Cuneyt Arkin to play him) is now dead and frozen in a block of ice. He had twin sons; one of them became a captain in the Turkish space program, and the other one was kidnapped by The Man Who Saved the World's eternal enemy, named Uga. Uga's kidnapped stepson is named Zaldabar, and he's a very cocky jerkoff, basically, who wears lots of black and has some sexy female androids running his ship, but he has always wanted to experience true love with a woman who does not simply comply with commands.

By contrast, the other son, Captain Kartal, is running a Turkish spaceship on which the crew haven't been paid wages in three months. Kartal's sexy assistant Gonca keeps trying to seduce him, but no, he's only after noble heroism and his mission (Cuneyt Arkin's son my ass...). Comedy on the ship includes references to politics in Turkey, references to wages and concomitant divorce threats, the old woman who just can't stop cleaning, and a "which button should I push to activate the shields?" sketch. In a lot of ways, this movie is more like ongoing, boring, family-friendly sketch comedy that just keeps going on and on. Sometimes you almost even wish you were just watching a bunch of wookies. Anyway, Captain Kartal's mission is to find the astronaut Gokmen, who left the airlock to plant a Turkish flag in space, but then a giant pair of scissors cut his airhose/tether line and he floated away eight years ago.

It transpires later that Gokmen landed on the planet Lunatica, where he started to foment rebellion against the portly despot Dogibus. Dogibus is trying to join an interstellar analogue of the E.U., and that plan is contingent upon the capture of Gokmen. To capture Gokmen, Dogibus tries to enlist the help of Zaldabar by promising his daughter Maya to him. However, after inadvertently crossing with Zaldabar, Captail Kartal and crew crash on Lunatica, where the Captain meets up with Princess Maya, who is running away from home to escape her betrothal, and she takes him to Gokmen. Meanwhile, Gonca is now working with Zaldabar, who captured her but at least can pay wages without bureaucratic funding problems. If you don't see where that's going, well, I'm not going to help you with it.

Except for the pretty obvious conclusion, that's more or less the entire movie. Now, you might be asking, "But what the fuck does any of that have to do with Turkish Star Wars?" Yes. Well... First of all, they put Dunyayi Kurtaran Adam in the title. So there's that, for what it's worth. Then, there were a few limp-wristed references to the original film, including Uga's revenge monologue in which he describes some of the dialogue and action of the first film, punctuated by his advisor saying "Yes, but... I do not understand... Yes, but I still do not understand..." etc.

And they also roped in Cuneyt Arkin for what amounts to a cameo -- although, fittingly, he's the centerpiece of the cover art and the posters. And I guess it was kind of fun to see Cuneyt, whose hair is now stark white, fly into space to save the floating Gokmen...and he very briefly reprises his role in the training scene of the first film, beating up rocks...and they did give him a small fight to participate in. Still, I think his presence was mostly wasted -- especially because the only part he's in which isn't a flashback is a scene where he gives his son explicit instructions on how to use his ship as a "magnet" to send a "bomb" away from the earth. What's wrong with that? Well, the focus on the scene is all about a fearful son learning from his father. And in the end, all he does is flip some buttons and do a U-turn.

You might be wondering, "Okay, so when do they start kicking ass?" Well, they never do. The fight choreography is less inspired than your average fourth-grade play, and most of the "heroism" is exemplified by just trying to act nobly, rather than smashing rocks or beating up monsters. No one dies, there is no blood, the evil army's laser guns only stun and don't kill, and the only fight in the film is a really pathetic lightsaber duel which, by virtue of editing and closeups, doesn't give much of a sense of action or energy.

So the sequel and tribute to the most action-packed film in Turkish history, if not in world cinema history, ends up being a torpid, character-driven, melodramatic comedy which at its very best is about half as funny as, say, any given Harvey Korman sketch in The Star Wars Holiday Special. This film is sort of like an existentialist hell that, to quote Sartre, "fumbles and gnaws and never quite hurts enough." It's a weird limbo that's not as painful as shrieking wookie pantomime, or as mind-boggling as minutes on end of footage of someone driving, or as earnestly boring as any given monster movie where 80% of the running time is spent watching guys around a table have conferences and meetings and such while we're just waiting for the monsters to come and eat them all. There are no monsters here except the film itself, and its production values are just high enough to keep it entertaining enough that it's just a constant disappointment.

If that statement doesn't make sense, just let it go. Don't try to find out for yourself. If you want to see a good, recent Turkish sci-fi comedy, get G.O.R.A., which TSW2 very clearly ripped off stylistically. And if you want to see a good Turkish action movie... well, look for anything that's not this.

The following would have made a better, more succinct review, but I figured people would be curious about the actual film. I think this sums it all up, though. I've seen Manos: the Hands of Fate at least five times, and I've watched Night of Horror at least six times. I sat through the entirety of both Zombie Ninja Gangbangers and Zombie! vs. Mardi Gras, and while I relished neither experience, I feel that I at least learned something somehow. But after watching the so-called Turks in Space, aka Turkish Star Wars 2, I mostly just want two hours of my life back.

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posted by Ryan at | 2 Comments


Monday, September 17, 2007

Kilink Ucan Adama Karsi

DIGG THIS ARTICLE. 1967, Turkey. Starring Yildiram Gencer, Irfan Atasoy, Pervin Par, Suzan Avci, Muzaffer Tema, Mine Soley. Directed by Yilmaz Atadeniz. Buy it from Xploited Cinema.

When last we left the dastardly, skeleton-suit clad Kilink, self-proclaimed (like grandmaster Philip Holder) King of Rogues and master of all evil, he was in his secret island lair (well stocked with randomly placed and artfully-posed bikini girls), casually bragging about his super-weapon (a rickety looking laser gun) while harassing a scientist and the scientist's beautiful daughter, who just happens to be the fiancee of a man whose scientist father was previously murdered by Kilink, causing the man to swear vengeance and thus be granted super powers and a bad costume by a crazy hobo in the cemetery.

Got it? Well, if you didn't no worries, because the cliffhanger ending of Kilink Istanbul'da springboards us immediately into the sequel, Kilink Ucan Adama Karsi (Kilink vs. Superman), but not before the second film takes twenty minutes or so to recap the events of the last movie. Out of respect for this technique, I was simply going to cut and paste the first quarter of my Kilink Istandbul'da review here, but then I thought that would just be silly. Besides, I tend to repeat myself and say the same things over and over anyway, so chances are, there will be plenty of retread material even without the cut and paste gag.


And speaking of retread...

As I said in the review of the first film -- and note that calling Kilink Istanbul'da the first film is misleading, as they are really nothing more than one long movie chopped up into two episodes -- the Turkish Kilink movies were drawing major influence from both the Italian fumetti characters Kriminal and Killing, but perhaps even more so, they were looking to the old American adventure serials for their formula and structure. Thus the serial-like cliffhanger ending, although to be fair, your final shot being Kilink hanging out in his living room while the good guy stands on the pier is somewhat less thrilling than many serial cliffhangers tended to be. Additionally, the recap of the previous "episode" is another trick straight out of the serials. The summary is nice, however, because it does contain bits and pieces of footage that were lost from the actual print of Kilink Istandbul'da, so if you want to get a glimpse of some Saddam Hussein looking guy laughing as he turns a knob, then this is your chance.

Kilink Istandbul'da sets us up for the main event in Kilink Ucan Adama Karsi. Until this point, Kilink and Superman...er, Superhero...have only met face to face in costume once, and that showdown ended with Kilink swapping identities with a doorman who he somehow convinced to not only wear a skeleton outfit, but also to try and escape from the combined forces of Superhero and the Istanbul police force via a slow-moving construction dumbwaiter. We can assume, based on the title of this entry in the Kilink series, that we'll finally be getting the tete-a-tete between the villainous madman and the guy in the padded suit and striped bikini.


Now Superhero is the good guy, remember, but it's kind of cheating on his part to need the help of a randomly appearing god disguised as a homeless hippie and granting superpowers to beat Kilink, who has no superpower other than the ability to prance around in a ridiculous looking skeleton costume without ever actually looking ridiculous. given as how Kilink was distilled from an Italian character, I can only assume that this power is likewise some adaptation of the super power that allows Italian men to look awesome in clothes that would look idiotic on anyone else.

In fact, if you recall from the review of part one, I said that contrary to Diabolik or Kriminal, Kilink is without a doubt the villain of the piece, and we are meant to root for Superhero and the good guys. This has a lot to do with the Turkish filmgoing population's preference for identifying with a strong, black-and-white hero. Superhero is both strong (see how he throws those concrete slabs around in the first film -- a brute display of strength that was probably unappreciated by the cemetery employees who came in later that day and had to clean up the mess made by Superhero and his weird Fred Sanford's friend Grady lookin' god) and his film is in black and white, so the Turks were in luck!

But by the time this second part rolls around, I'm suddenly thinking to myself, "This Kilink, he's not so bad." Bear with me.


Part two opens with Orhan trying to find a ride to Kilink's mysterious secret island, which can't be too terribly secret if every fisherman in Istanbul knows it's crawling with guys in genie pants and some dude in a skeleton suit running around on the beach. Eventually, Orhan finds a guy willing to take him to the island, even though -- hey, wait? Isn't Orhan possessed of super powers that allow him to, among other things, fly? I guess he's such a good guy that he doesn't want to use his superpowers when he could help out the local economy by hiring a boatman and putting the guy in mortal peril by making him sail out to Kilink's island of doom.

Meanwhile, Klink is splitting his time between making love (whilst still in his skeleton outfit) to his two beautiful women (Suzy and that ridiculously hot secretary he corrupted in part one) and showing off the awesome might of his now fully operational super weapon: that cheap looking laser gun. When he finally unveils his weapon, the end result is -- well, like I said, maybe he would have been better off if he invested his time in trying to steal an atom bomb, because the laser cannon isn't horribly impressive. I mean, he blows up a boulder with it, and later on he'll use it to mildly inconvenience Superhero, but other than that I don't see the world quaking in fear at the skeleton-bootied feet of Kilink just because he has a laser cannon -- especially given that everyone seems to know where Kilink is, and they could just drop a bomb on his lair and be done with things. They must have plenty of bombs, because Kilink didn't try to take any of those.


The action on Kilink's island is pretty boss. He's got bikini girls, and although he talks big about conquering the world, he seems more interested in lounging around in his cave's boom boom room, letting that hot secretary writhe about and strip while Suzy massages his shoulders and guys in Genie pants and vests with a giant felt "K" on them lean on their machine guns. And this is the point where I started thinking we should give Kilink a chance to rule the world and see how things work out. I mean, I know his super weapon is super-lame, but still -- his primary vision of the world seems to be one full of half-naked women slipping out of slinky cocktail dresses, groovy music, and guys with Rollie Fingers mustaches and genie pants. That doesn't sound so bad to me. Sure, Kilink has a tendency to randomly walk up to some guy who works for him and say, "Don't disappoint me, or I'll kill you," even though nothing is going on at that moment, but whatever. What world leader doesn't have his idiosyncrasies? Let's give Kilink a go. I mean, we gave G.W. Bush four years of nothing but endless fuck-ups and corruption, and then we gave him four more still. Is being ruled by Kilink with his "hot Turkish stripper in every den" policy really so bad by comparison?

Anyway, Kilink soon learns that nothing gold can stay, as Orhan arrives to change into Superhero and smash things up. Kilink unleashes the power of his laser beam, which is now suddenly a flamethrower -- making it even lamer as a world-dominating super-weapon -- which causes Superhero to have to sort of suck it in (hard when your body mass is composed primarily of pillows stuffed into your long johns) and stand against the wall for a little bit. It's enough time for Kilink to make his escape, though, in classic third world dictator form. Actually, I guess those guys usually commandeer a jet at the airport, or get a free ride from some other country's government. Kilink makes his escape in, of all things, a rowboat. Ahh, but it's not really Kilink at all! It's a fat, old scientist who, when disguised as Kilink, suddenly becomes a fit, muscular man. Kilink himself slips out the back door, and begins plotting a decidedly less Bondian, more Kriminal/Diabolik scale caper: stealing jewels from a hot princess.


Unfortunately, we only get the gist of things here, as the latter half of Kilink Ucan Adama Karsi has been, as far as anyone can tell, forever lost. Onar films did their best to fill in the gaps by summarizing the rest of the action via a series of stills and narration that take us through to the final shot of the film -- which is Kilink lying dead -- apparently -- in the street after taking a tumble in what looked like it would have been a pretty awesome fight with Superhero, had we been able to see it. Onar also had the decency not to sell this as a complete film by itself on a DVD. It's a double feature with the third Kilink film (which picks up immediately where this one ends). So they make due with what they got, and it's not their fault, but that doesn't change the fact that the presumably "forever lost" status of the second half of this film (mixed with the fact that half of the first half is just a summary of the first film) is disappointing, because it looks fabulous. And it looks like Kilink might actually fight Superhero at this point, because up until now, his primary mode of operation has been to run away. But that's all right, because Kilink would rather spend his energy making love and watching strippers. After all that combined with having to spend part of the day standing with arms akimbo or pointing menacingly and laughing, he hardly has any energy left for tangling with over-enthusiastic magical superheros in striped granny panties.

Still, what's here is worth seeing. Onar has greatly improved the quality of their subtitled with this release, and the picture quality is much better than it was with the previous film. The showdown between Kilink and Superhero on Kilink's island of pleasure and certain death is high-spirited and energetic, with some great fights and plenty of action. We're better off for having seen at least this small surviving sliver of the film. And luckily, Kilink never stops to take a breath, and no sooner is he lying dead on the street than he is also taunting people via some unseen and inexplicable public address unit, promising to return. And return he does, in the promisingly titled Kilink: Strip and Kill.

Continued...

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Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Kilink Istanbul'da

DIGG THIS ARTICLE. 1967, Turkey. Starring Yildiram Gencer, Irfan Atasoy, Pervin Par, Suzan Avci, Muzaffer Tema, Mine Soley. Directed by Yilmaz Atadeniz. Buy it from Xploited Cinema.

When last we tuned in, skeleton motif-clad fumetti anti-hero Kriminal was skyrocketing to fame, and in doing so, seeing the nasty edge that had made him so popular and controversial (so it is possible to be banned in France) softened somewhat to make him more palatable to a wider audience. But no worries, because even as Kriminal began to only kill a lot of people instead of a whole lot of people, another character in basically the same skeleton get-up arrived on the scene to make sure that critics and censors were still incensed by the make-believe actions of a grown man wearing a novelty skeleton body stocking. That hero -- and by hero, I mean psychotic mass-murdering terrorist -- was known appropriately enough as Killing.

Created in 1966 by Pietro Granelli, Killing was a reprehensible brute on his best days, and most of the time the things he did were extreme even by the standards raised (or lowered) by Kriminal. That Killing relied on the photonovel format -- using live-action still photography of actual staged scenes rather than artwork -- made the salacious nature of his sexploitative, hyper-violent adventures even more risque. Needless to say, with Killing boasting no redeeming values whatsoever, people once again lapped it up just as eagerly as critics, censorship boards, and parents despised it. Killing was a one-man 80s metal band music video, all wearin' a skeleton suit and causing the town censor to scream, wag his finger, turn red, and finally go into cardiac arrest as the head of the PTA angrily bangs a gavel and the mousy town librarian has her top blown off by a wicked guitar riff, causing her to jump up on top of the card catalog (it was the 80s, after all) and do a sexy pole dance striptease as, all the while, this gun-toting madman in a skull mask lords over it, laughing evilly as he stands on top of an overpass with arms akimbo.


I'm not sure what legal battle ensued, though it's pretty obvious that Killing was a blatant rip-off of Kriminal. In response, Kriminal's creator went and created Satanik, a disfigured woman who takes a special serum to become beautiful, and then spends most of her remaining time killing people. It was made into a movie, but unlike Kriminal or other fumetti adaptations, it plays out like a chintzy Jess Franco horror movie rather than a comic book adventure. Don't let the Diabolik-inspired outfit that shows up in all the poster artwork fool you; that' sin the movie for like twenty seconds, as a costume during a cabaret dance. The rest is all a chick in a crazy lady wig skulking around and not doing much of anything. Anyway, the joke was once again on Kriminal creator Luciano Secchi, because as Killing got exported around t