9
A Film by
Umit Unal
9
A Film by
Umit Unal
FOREIGN FILM OSCAR CANDIDATE OF TURKEY FOR 2003
*
21st INTERNATIONAL ISTANBUL FILM FESTIVAL
NATIONAL COMPETITION
BEST FILM
BEST ACTRESS (Serra Yilmaz)
*
2002 SeNef FILM FESTIVAL (SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA)
SPECIAL JURY PRIZE
*
2002 14TH ANKARA FILM FESTIVAL
SPECIAL JURY PRIZE
BEST SCREENPLAY
BEST ACTOR (Fikret Kuskan)
BEST ORIGINAL MUSIC (ZeN)
A poor, seemingly quiet
neighborhood of Istanbul.
A young, homeless girl gets killed
in a gory murder.
Nobody knows where she comes from.
There are all kind of rumors about her.
Some say she's Jewish, some say
she's a Russian prostitute.
Six people from the
neighborhood are being interrogated in a dark room by the police.
Being forced to give away their
uttermost secrets, these six ordinary people tell us
not only the story of the murder
but also their biased versions of
history of the neighborhood.
9 is a story of a vanishing
culture which is based on fear, rumors and guilt.
9 is a new attempt to reveal the
face of everyday fascism.
Shot it in Istanbul in July
2001, entirely on digital video (Betacam and Mini DV)
9 is Umit Unal's first feature film
project as a director.
It's been edited on Avid and
Inferno and then transferred to 35mm format.
It won the best film award in
National Competition in
21st International Istanbul
Film Festival and selected as Turkey's nominee for
Best Foreign Film Oscar in 75th Academy Awards.
The Cast:
Ali Poyrazoglu, Cezmi Baskin,
Fikret Kuskan, Ozan Guven,
Rafa Radomisli, Serra Yilmaz and
Esin Pervane.
The Producers:
Haluk Bener
Aydin Sarioglu
Umit Unal
Co-Producer:
PTT Film
Director of Photography:
Aydin Sarioglu
Music:
ZeN
9 has been shown in many international festivals. "Umit Unal's politically tinged "9" plunges its characters into a claustrophobic urban nightmare. Set in a pitch-black Istanbul police interrogation room,"9" juxtaposes the interviews of six shifty neighbors who may or may not be involved in the murder of a local drifter. The film is masterfully shot (on DV,reportedly a first for Turkey) and edited,and Unal is adept at building queasy Hitchcockian tension."
Mark Holcomb, Village Voice "For a change of pace, the brooding murder mystery "9" takes us inside a traditional neighborhood in Istanbul. Director Umit Unal finds the same hypocrisy as in the countryside, but with a twist. A young homeless woman has been raped and killed, but it's far from clear who is the culprit. Unal shows the denizens of this forgotten corner of the city harshly interrogated (in basement room 9 — or is it an upside-down 6?). They give their versions of the events illustrated by interspersed video clips. The narrative flashes from the daft stationery storeowner to the photographer to the local matriarch, and it turns out that no one is telling the complete truth. When fugitive prime suspect Kaya (Ozan Guven) enters the mix, accounts change and change again. Kaya seems to have taken a truth pill, but the truth in this case is not pretty. Between his extended relationship with the photographer (married with kids, of course), an ancient love story between matriarch and shopkeeper, and the butcher's coarse lifestyle, it's quite a sordid picture. The unseen police interrogators don't come off any better. They pin the blame on handsome Kaya, and another crime is "solved." And they beat him up for good measure. The cast all appear to be marvelous stage actors and their intense portrayals make this film a must-see."
David Lipfert, www.offoffoff.com (...) Despite its
dramatic structure that consists of theatrical monologues, Umit
Unal’s debute feature film 9 reveals layers upon layers
throughout the story. Umit Unal's success lies in his
screenwriting- specially dialogue writing. What makes 9 really
interesting: Its use of video as an element of narrative, its
somewhat disturbing indifference towards the indigenous subject
matter, its use of music (ZeN), wonderful performances from some
actors whose talents were not appreciated enough in cinema (Ali
Poyrazoglu for instance). Umit Unal's film is 'tricky' and
'stylish' but not 'ornamented'. Most importantly, we're now faced
with a film maker who has a serious suggestion on how the Turkish
films should look from now on. Turkish Cinema is alive. And we
love it. Fatih Ozguven, Radikal Neswspaper, 4 April
2002 Sex, lies, and videotape might be the name of a well-known American indie film, but it would also make an appropriate title for 9 (April 25, 8 p.m.), a fast-paced thriller by newcomer Umit Unal that was Turkey's official entry in the 2003 Oscars. Shot and edited on digital video, the film unfortunately has the look and feel of a slick television commercial, but if you can get beyond the herky-jerky cuts and nauseating zoom shots, its well worth checking out this ingenious whodunit.
Set entirely in a dimly lit interrogation room where five suspects are being questioned in the slaying of a young Jewish drifter, Unal's narrative cleverly builds tension by splicing together their videotaped testimonies. The camera jumps feverishly in real time between each of the suspects a shopkeeper, a photographer, a conservative matriarch, a macho butcher, and a sagelike elder known as The American as they react to the unseen policemen's questions, until it becomes apparent that no one is telling the whole truth. And thats when things get interesting.
What's most impressive about the unconventional structure of 9 is the way Unal creates drama between characters who are never in the same room together. Not only do they baldly accuse one another when they feel the light of suspicion swinging in their direction, they also have a few qualms about revealing one another's dirtiest secrets. What we end up with is more than a murder mystery: We also get an intriguing look at the social dynamics of a tiny Istanbul enclave, and, in the end, a blunt criticism of crooked justice. Add to that intense performances from the entire cast, and 9 is a film to recommend.. Damon Smith, BOSTON GLOBE
Sunday - April 13, 2003 Fear and loathing in Istanbul Umit Unal's disturbing new film (screening in the Video Competition) puts Turkish society under the microscope 9 (Dokuz), screening in Locarno's Competition Video has an ingenious, Rashomon-like narrative structure. Six witnesses from the same tightly-knit Istanbul community are grilled by the police in a dank interrogation room about the circumstances leading up to the murder of Spiky, a beautiful young homeless woman who had been eking out an existence in their midst. As the witnesses' contradictory testimonies reveal, the same events can be interepreted in a myriad different ways. "Being forced to give away their uttermost secrets, these six ordinary people tell us not only the story of the murder but also their biased versions of the history of the neighborhood," suggests the 37-year-old writer-director. "I see the film as offering a panorama of Turkey now... Every character represents some part of the Turkish population. I wanted to point out some aspects of Turkish life today." Unal's vision of contemporary Turkish society is not in the slightest optimistic. His protagonists all cling to the idea that neighbours still look out for each other, just like they used to "in the good old days." This turns out to be far from the truth. "The film offers a critique not just of State fascism but fascism in daily life - in the lives of ordinary people... We're in the middle of a turmoil in this country. I don't know how to be optimistic in this climate," says Unal. There are only two women characters in the movie. One is a pious and hypocritical old matriarch. The other is Spiky herself, the beautiful and promiscuous stranger who comes to such a bad end. "In a way, I try to point out that Turkish men see their women like that. They either lock them in the house, put them under a headscarf and turn them into monsters, or they see them like total strangers whose sexuality they're scared of." It's hinted that the reason Spiky is killed may be because she's Jewish. "But Turkish people are not exactly racist - they're very xenophobic" Unal suggests. "Her being Jewish is part of the metaphor of the film. When you talk about fascism, you have to talk about Jewishness. And I wanted to make her a total alien in that neighbourhood." The cast includes many well-known actors from Turkish film and TV. Unal, who shot the film for an initial budget around $20,000 on video, was able to secure their services for free. They admired his work as a screenwriter (he has written eight scripts) and were keen to work with him on his first feature.
Whatever his reservations about the political situation in his homeland, Unal (who divides his time between Istanbul and England) remains committed to working in Turkey. "My whole culture is here... My whole roots and my past is here," he says. Geofrey Mac Nabb, Pardo News, 55th Locarno Film Festival 9 Preceded by a quote from Franz Kafka's In The Penal Colony about the invisible workings of the system, 9 presents a grim portrait of the way in which religious bigotry and social malaise have a direct and poisonous impact on people's everyday behaviour. Chosen, surprisingly, as Turkey's Oscar candidate in preference to Zeki Demirkubuz's Fate and its sequel, Confession (both of which have cut a higher profile on the world festival circuit), this bears all the hallmarks of a writer's piece. In his first outing as a director, Umit Unal, the author of numerous screenplays as well as two novels and a collection of stories creates sharp dialogue and lively characters, drawing excellent performances from his cast. However, 9 (the title is written as a numeral) also comes across as highly literary, with a dominant visual device (the restless cross-cutting between conflicting testimonies) which soon outstays its welcome to end up feeling like something of a gimmick. While the film's honesty and intelligence are admirable, and its inventive qualities augur well for Unal's future as a director, the bleak vision and formal intransigence will severely limit its international audience outside the most specialised locations. In a poor, apparently respectable neighbourhood of Istanbul, a murder has been committed. The victim: young homeless girl who might or might not be a prostitute from Russia and might or might not be Jewish. This sense of uncertainty hangs over the film as a whole, which consists of the questioning of six witnesses and suspects in a gloomy basement cell by unseen - but clearly none too friendly - police interrogators. Salim is an elderly bookseller and former left wing activist, who remembers being tortured in this very building for his political views and is still held in deep suspicion by his neighbours. Tunc, a yobbish butcher, hangs out with handsome Kaya, who's the prime suspect. Saliha, Kaya's mother, seems a nice old lady at first but soon reveals her fanaticism and ignorance. Firuz is a photographer and family man with a guilty secret. The sextet is completed by an old drop-out who's a dead ringer for Ernest Hemingway and is known simply as "the American" (though he's actually Turkish). As the inquiry unfolds, the witness contradict themselves as well as each other, and reveal their complex hidden relationships. But, while the digital to 35mm transfer looked fine, the frantic editing and use of mirrors, screens and other multiple imagery is cumulatively hard on the eye. A further problem is that much of the film consists of the characters in close-up talking about events, rather than - with odd exceptions - these actually being dramatised on screen. The ending is left highly ambiguous, down to the number of that mysterious cell, 9 - or possibly an upside-down ‘6'. The significance of this, as of much else, is left murky - perhaps Unil is a fan of the classic Jimi Hendrix number, If Six Was Nine. In any case, he creates a compelling portrait of an uneasy world where the truth is constantly being turned upside down. Sheila Johnston, www.screendaily.com, 17 January 2003 Turkey: film banned at festival Forbidden tongues, dangerous films A film which had already been seen by 100,000 people in Turkey was cut out of this year's Istanbul Film Festival because it showed police violence and a girl speaking Kurdish. Bram Posthumus was there. Turkish actress Serra Yilmaz stood on the immense stage of the Istanbul Concert Hall, flanked by the presenter and a representative of the Turkish Ministry of Culture. The occasion was the glitter-studded Gala at the end of the 21st Istanbul Film Festival and Yilmaz had just won the prize of "Best Actress". Unlike Hollywood, which turns on the tear taps, its Turkish opposite number is remarkably business-like. The actress simply said: 'I thank my director, the crew, and I'd also like to mention my father, who was among the first film critics in our country. It is my wish that this festival may continue, without censorship.' The man from the Ministry of Culture put his hands resolutely behind his back and refused to even acknowledge Yilmaz's presence. Moments later, when she walked off the stage, he probably realised the churlishness of his snub and turned to her with the trademark haughty friendliness of bureaucrats. She brushed past him and the look on her face made it quite clear where he could go as far as she was concerned. Yilmaz got the prize for her performance in a remarkable film, "9", which depicts the reconstruction of a murder case through a series of police interrogations which were cut up and re-arranged into a delightful sequence. But "9" was one of three films that were in serious danger of not being shown at all. It finally only happened to one, "Big Man Small Love" (in Europe to be released as "Hejar") by Handan Ipekçi. It is the story of a small Kurdish girl who hides in a closet while the police conduct a very violent raid on the apartment where she lives with a group of suspected Kurdish activists. She is the only one to survive and when it is all over she walks into the apartment of a retired judge who does not understand a word of what she says and has actually forbidden her Kurdish housemaid to speak her own language. But slowly he comes around and in the end we see the old man and the little girl teaching each other their languages. "Hejar" is a moving experience but it also moved the censors. 'I was completely shocked when I heard it,' recalls Ipekçi. 'After all, the film had been financially supported by the Ministry of Culture, it had been shown in Turkish cinemas. More than 100,000 people had already seen it.' In its official explanation, the Ministry of Culture said that the inspection board had asked for the film not to be shown and that the police were offended by the way the raid had been depicted. Also, the use of the Kurdish language in official settings is banned and the film contains dialogues in Kurdish, with Turkish subtitles. But art critic Sevin Okyay who writes for the left-of-centre Radikal newspaper and is an advisor to the festival thinks it is an act of monumental folly. 'Have you ever heard of anything this silly? I mean, if this one could not have been shown, then a host of other films should have been banned also.' Indeed, "9" contains instances of police brutality and another film, "The Photograph" shows a much more radical depiction of the Kurdish conflict. Ipekçi thinks that her film has become the victim of a struggle for influence within the Turkish government, between the traditional and the more progressive tendencies. Ümit Ünal, the director of "9" has worked as a script writer for many years. 'The law can be interpreted in such a way that the authorities can ban virtually everything. You may have insulted the police, the army, morality, respect for tradition et cetera. It seems to me that they are trying to create a climate of fear around filmmakers, which may result in more self-censorship. To a certain extent, we already self-censor ourselves when we write scripts.' In the age of the war against terrorism, sympathy for causes that in the mindset of the Turkish authorities are closely associated with terrorism, like the Kurdish fight for autonomy, means moving into dangerous territory. But Ipekçi is adamant that her film was about creating respect and tolerance in a multi-ethnic society. The judge in her film is 75 years old, the same age as the modern Turkish republic. 'We were celebrating our 75th birthday as a country and yet there was a war going on. I reflected on this contradiction and so I built the story around the little girl and the judge.' The judge really is the central character. 'I made the film in the hope that Turkey would develop. Turkey must change, it must become more tolerant. The government should have supported my film, to steer the country more towards democracy.' Instead, she had to take the state to court to get her film released. The case was still pending when the festival got under way but Ipekçi hopes that she will win in the end. The slot that was allocated to "Hejar" was now used for a brief meeting of Turkish filmmakers who used the occasion to write and release a statement in which they condemned the ban. "We call upon the public and especially professional guilds not to become accustomed to prohibitions" reads part of it. But while this suggests a closed front of filmmakers who stand firm against censorship, this is not quite the case. Each director was asked to read the statement before showing his or her own film at the festival. Most did, some did not. In fact, the action came about when Ipekçi wrote a short article in Radikal about her lone struggle. 'Handan complained about being alone,' recalls art critic Okyay, 'You know, today they have done it to her and tomorrow they can do it to someone else. I admit it is not a very noble way of thinking but at least it is something. I really do believe that actions against censorship must be better organised. Because if it is true that this a move towards more censorship, we are going in the wrong direction. I mean, we have made progress. Are we going back to the time when they would read and judge the scripts before the film was made?' Perish the thought. The whole episode has been a public relations disaster for the festival. Director Hülya Uçansu is well aware of the implications. 'We have lodged a petition with the Ministry of Culture to ensure that this utterly unpleasant experience is not repeated,' she says. 'We have asked them to exempt Turkish films from censorship, just like the foreign ones. I believe that this has been a mistake.' Indeed it was. Instead of talking about the new Turkish films, some of which are of excellent quality, censorship was the topic of the day. For a country that aspires to EU membership, this is bad publicity indeed. "Keep pace with the changing world" was the exhortation of the English language Turkish Daily News. The gist of the article, in two words: grow up. Ending censorship would be a good start. Bram Posthumus, www.indexonline.com, April 2002 9 joined 2003 Singapur Film Festival. Silver Screen Awards. In the festival website, there was a forum and here are some comments: Hi guys....
Me new into film fest... got to know that this kinda event do exist~~...
Sorrie for being a mountain tortoise... Yup... got to watch this movie todae...just wanna guess whether i`m rite a not... for this movie "nine" ... the title is called "nine" is it beocz that there were nine people involved in the incident..(as in >> no. 1 guess: kaya, kaya's parent,the crew-cut gangta, the photographer, the gal that was murdered and the 2 police or was it no.2: kaya, kaya's parent,the crew-cut gangta, the photographer, the gal that was murdered the dog and the american or No3: is it the room number which from a "6" sign which fall into "9"???" old birdies in here... can advise me a not?? personally i kinda guilty for falling asleep here and there in the first 30mins of the show, but mi was at FULL ATTENTion after that...hahah loved the Visual Fxz and the polt~... relai nice movie....Sorrie for the bad english~~~ Kerpal in Da House!!! 24-04-2003 04:47:41 A.M. RE:Nine - 9 (modified 0 times) molamola To Kerpal:
I believe the title "9" conveys the message that truth can be false... false can be true... depending on how one wants to interpret it. The last scene when the room no. 6 dropped to become 9 gives me that feeling and observation. This show is different from many I watched over the years in SIFF.
This one is more draggy in the beginning and more long winded in dialogue... and the chairs in the old cinema of P2 does not help at all. My legs are too long for the small leg space provided in the back rows... but I hang on bec I am curious of the ending. The last 15 mins moved very fast and one would missed the twist easily. To Those who have watched this show last night:
Correct me if I am wrong here, the murderer is the photographer, Fruz, right? He said he does not know that Spiky has a necklace yet at the staircase, he holds up a star looking jewish necklace. And, I feel that he has the strongest motive ; he likes Kaya, Kaya seems attracted to the girl (Kaya bought her food & beer). But,what I dont understand is,
1) If Fruz really love Kaya, why destroyed him? Is the intense end of love really HATE?
2) the CID police were so close to the truth, yet they chose to believe selectively at the end... why did they beat up Kaya to a confession?
3) what is the meaning of the tape recording where "Kaya" supposedly confessed his crime? Whose voice is it?
4) The mother, Salima loves Kaya so much, yet she leaves so quietly when told that Kaya killed Spiky. I was expecting a mother's cry and protest that her baby son is innocent.
5) The American is funny chap... he has this gaze in his eyes that gives me the creep... Look forward to someone who can shed some light on my doubts. Thanks. 24-04-2003 10:48:36 A.M. Those that saw '9' last night would have been GREATLY enlightened if the opening prologue was subtitled.
It was a quote, from the revolutionary writer Franz Kafka's 'The Trial' published in 1957 and would have provided all with a premise to begin any conjecture to it's interpretation. There are many similarities between the two. The forced confession, the dark and desolate tone of the film, friends been turned against one another, but all that matters in the end is that the oppressors (fascism here) have a victim to hang the blame on. Do we really want to know the REAL truth, can we bear it UGLY face, remember Salims opening words? I agree that the reversible "9" conveys the message that truth can be false... false can be true... depending on interpretation. It's also about points of view, and how things are not always quite what they seem. In the end what is truth anyway, when society as a whole is alleviated from blame. Great stuff, and worthy contender for a Silver Screen award. 24-04-2003 12:01:56 P.M. RE:Nine - 9 - song title? (modified 0 times) molamola MolaMola like a song! MolaMola need the title!!
Can any one provide the title to the song hummed by Spiky through the film?
I cant get the melody off my chest so I guess I need to buy the CD. Thanks muchie! The photos from top to bottom:
"Young" director in the main interrogation room set up, Fikret Kuskan as Tunc the Butcher, Ozan Guven as Kaya, Ali Poyrazoglu as Firuz.
