Istanbul Kirmizisi (2017) Script


Istanbul, May 13, 2016

-Welcome, Orhan. -Thank you.

Deniz wanted to welcome you, but an urgent meeting came up.

I should have gone to the hotel first.

No need to. He wants to see you right away. Please.

Orhan, don't trouble yourself. Wait here.

Make yourself at home. Something to drink? Tea, coffee?

No, thank you.

Why are you standing there? I told you to take that upstairs.

Careful. If you live in the past, you miss out on the present.

How's Istanbul? As you left it?

-Pretty much. -Are you tired?

Not really.

We can start work right away. I have so much to ask you.

I have a ton of questions as well. Good thing you came.

-Your room's ready. -No need. I'll go to my hotel.

Tell you what.

Why don't you take a shower and change?

Then let's talk, huh?


You'll make me mess up.

Imagine your guest's face when he wakes up in the morning to see all the furniture gone from the house.

You know what we should do?

Whisk his bed away from under him while he's asleep, huh?

He won't know what's hit him in the morning.

Only you would think of having guests to stay on the very eve of clearing out the house.

Just look at me.

Mum, really. Does that bother you?

We've had a ton of people through this house, they've seen everything. Fights, quarrels...

And almost a murder.

I don't like the idea of a stranger seeing us leave this place.

Mum, Orhan.

Welcome, Orhan. Come in, please.

-Have a seat. -Thanks.

Thank you.

My son says you live in London.

Yes, I've been there for years.

-Did you grow up in Istanbul? -Yes, in Kalamış.


The old Kalamış is all gone now.

Its famous ‘sweet serenity' and everything else. Really.

I feel rather like you, Orhan.

A stranger in my own country.

I don't go out anymore.

Istanbul survives only in memories.

Deniz always wants to be right.

Be smart and let him think he gets his way whatever.

-What does he know about writing books? -Oh, Mother.

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

Thank you.


I want to say something.


You'll meet characters from the book. Real versions of them.

When you meet them, you may ask...

Please don't ask them questions, OK? Ask me. Deal?

Sure. I came here for you. Whatever you say.

And I want us to be alone.

You, me, the book.

We'll work more productively here.

I can drop you at the hotel tomorrow. What do you say?

I'd prefer the hotel.

But OK, whatever you say.

-You have a dog? -No.

Why do you ask?

So you don't want to be tied down.

What breed is yours?

A stray. Tommy.

Tommy from the book. Like your dog as a kid.


Always Tommy.


-Yes. -Orhan.

-He's been dying to meet you. -Really?

Why were you dying to meet me?

To see how accurately Deniz describes you in his book.

What kind of book have you written?

Same stuff as always.

I like mixing fact with fiction.

You know how I like to embellish things.

It must have been tough on you.

So how does he describe me?

Oh my.

As his best friend.

They meet really young.

Neval's studying fine arts, he's studying film.

She becomes a restoration artist at which point he moves to Europe.

He thrives internationally as a director, but they never lose touch.

They exchange thousands of letters.

Come on! Not thousands.

They always spend holidays together. At the summerhouse.

They also have a fling there.

-Did I put that in, too? -A fling?

Are you sure it was a fling?

Neval, OK. I guess I put it in.

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

But it meant the world to me.

But that's unfair. You started with a 1-0 advantage.

You know so much about me.

And I know almost nothing about you.

I know the Neval from Deniz's book, not you.

Besides, authors use their characters to talk a little about themselves.

In storybooks, too?

Deniz mentioned it.

The idea of his editor being famous for a storybook he wrote so young really amused him.

But he said you wrote nothing more after that.

Is that really true or was he being mischievous?

Are London parties as dull as this?

Are all of Deniz's friends like that?

He doesn't have any.

Apart from me.

All the people you see here

-are just admirers. -Or lovers.

Especially ex-lovers who are convinced they are irreplaceable.

Sure. You're the only one who's irreplaceable.

The only person Deniz takes seriously.

The only one he takes criticism from.

-Doesn't he mention that in his book? -Oğuz.

So you've met Orhan.


Oğuz is our host.

He's also a superb writer.

His books are always bestsellers. You must read him.

If the zeitgeist interests you, that is. Have you read him?

I know the name, but haven't had the chance.


-Orhan. -No, thanks.

All right.

-Could I have some water? -Right away.

We've actually met before.

Your face is familiar.

Maybe a slightly younger version with more hair.

We probably met at a party.

Before you left Turkey.

Are you staying here long?

No, not long. Until I finish Deniz's book.

So you don't want to stay.

I guess you find us unlikeable.

I think this city finds me rather unlikeable.

Istanbul is a total slut.

She doesn't turn anyone down.

Let's drink to your return.

I've given up alcohol.

An abstainer, huh?

I never trust people who don't have bad habits.

Before coming here I spent three days holed up at home watching your films.

In your writing, there's no narrative arc.

Granted, in both the films and the book there's emotion, excitement.

But in the book you're kind of all over the place.

Thanks, sweetie.

Thank you. See you again.

Someone call an ambulance.

My papers.

My papers.

My papers.

My... papers.

Brother, my papers.

It's all blown away.

Don't let the bastards steal them.

I picked up so much today.

It's gone.

It's all gone.


Give me a hand... Let's pick them back up.


What shall we do?

For the book?

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

It's all just a sham.

My life is a sham.

You know that, right?

Do you really believe that, for God's sake?

You know who you are. And why you write.

You also know the strongest part of your book.

What is it, for God's sake?

Yusuf's funeral and everything else involving Yusuf.

Fuck you.

The ritual washing of his body.

His death.

As I see it, Yusuf is a phenomenal character.

I love him.

I tell you, he's the strongest character in the book.

For sure.

What do you like most about him?

That he's a loser?

I mean, is that it?

I see Yusuf as a moth drawn to the light.

That's so dull.

So damn dull.

That's how I wrote him.

But he isn't like that.

There must be a grain of truth.

For just this much truth, I would change entire lives of all my characters.

I wrote it.

I'm the director.

I decide who they are and how they act.

Got it?

The angel you imagine is sometimes the devil.

And it's sometimes the devil

that turns into an angel.

OK, pal?




Good morning.

Good morning.

Good morning.


Deniz's big brother.

Good to meet you. Orhan.

So, Orhan?

What does my brother write about in his book?

Childhood memories.

Romances, friends.

Family. That kind of thing.


So we stand to be publicly embarrassed.

He doesn't say much about you, don't worry.

You're in a paragraph or two, of course.

Of course.

Why would he write about me staying here to look after mother when he was cruising around London, Paris and Rome?

Deniz has it easy.

He pays the bill when it suits him. As if money solves everything.

-It makes me sick. -But when you want money for yourself, it doesn't make you sick. Good morning, everybody.

Good morning, Süreyya.

-Good morning. -Not that story again, darling?

I want a loan, mother. Is that a crime?

Hello. Good morning.

-Morning. -How are you, Süreyya?

Good morning.

I'm Zeynep, Deniz's assistant.

-We met at the party last night. -I remember.

-Zeynep, have coffee with us. -Shall I sit over there?

I have the photos Deniz wanted for his book.

Istanbul back in the 60s and 70s.

Thank you.

Is Deniz not around?

I expect he's asleep.

Still? I'll wake him or he'll be annoyed.

Not so fast. I'll do it.

All right. You wake him up then.

He didn't tell me to, though.

I'll take the rap for it.


I'd like to show you my work.

The Fish Within Me and Judas Blossom Ladies.

I've never been jealous of Deniz.

But he's so well-connected. You'd think he could have helped me.

Would it be so hard, say, to use a painting of mine in one of his films?

Of course, the originals are something else.

Well, they're different.

-Interesting. -I'm so happy you like them.

Deniz isn't in his room.

His phone's off, too.

See if the boat's in the boathouse.

-I'll look in the garage. -OK.

-Any news of Deniz? -No, none.

Have you called his friends?

Clubs, bars, places he often goes. I don't know.

The police, hospitals.

No! We never thought of that, Inspector Columbo.

What's wrong, Sultan?

It's nothing.

I want to ask you a favor.

Will you tell a small lie for me?

When we get to the island and find Deniz, will you tell him that coming here was your idea, that you need to crack through your work here and get back home?

There's no telling with him. He might make a scene.





Neval, we'll never part.

Farewells are for those who love with their eyes; those who love with their hearts never part.

Deniz wrote that in his book.

He talks about Yusuf, too, of course.

About that summer.

About two kids innocently discovering love.

Deniz is like that.

When he wants people, he'll embrace them or push them away at will.


"I have lost everybody, nobody has lost me.

For nobody has owned me.

For I couldn't be anybody's."

Deniz does this when he's writing films.

He collects all the material he can find.

It must be a heavy film.

Is Deniz that unhappy?

Aren't we all?

Good evening.

-Forgive me, I'm late. -Welcome.


You didn't find anything, did you?

-Unfortunately not. -Please, have a seat.

-That's Deniz's place. -Deniz sits there.

Orhan, sit at the end there.

Let me introduce our dear family friends.

Betül and Güzin.

The famous aunties. Glad to meet you.

He's working with Deniz. On his book.

A man of culture and intellect.


Thanks to Deniz, I know a lot about you.

I hope it isn't all good.

Well... In his book Deniz describes this house as full of women.

A harem of sorts.

You had a big part in his first 10 years with his father not around.

Is Deniz writing a book now?

The boy's insatiable. Nothing satisfies him.

Nothing is enough for Deniz.

Betül, Deniz is especially fond of you.

Of course he is.

I bought him ice cream at Baylan Patisserie every week.

Then when you found someone handsome, you'd send the boy home in a taxi.

At least I had the men one at a time.

Süreyya, remember the three young men pounding on the door one day to see Güzin?

What slander!

Say that again and I'll sue you.

I'm so scared!

Süreyya threw you out of the house, remember?

Who are you?

You haven't changed a bit, Süreyya.

Always opening your home to strangers.

How can you sleep at night? What if he's a serial killer?

What if he strangles you?

Do I look like a serial killer?

Then how about staying with us tonight?

That way we can look into who you really are.

No one is what they seem.

Don't the neighbors of serial killers always say

“Who'd have thought? He was such a decent man.” You come here one evening and the next morning Deniz disappears.

Quite a coincidence, isn't it?

The truth is you arrived and Deniz disappeared.

What are you trying to say?

I have nothing to do with Deniz's disappearance.

So you know Deniz has disappeared.

Ladies and gentlemen, everything is clear as day.

We don't know this gentleman, but there's no denying he's handsome.

But I know Deniz like a book.

They've made a deal.

They must have a secret retreat.

Who's to say they haven't been together until now?

Have you made a deal, huh?

Are you an accomplice?

What kind of a game are you playing with Deniz?

Are you serious?

Look, I only came here to work.

Yes, if a family member disappears, it may not be nice having a stranger around.

And it wasn't even my idea to stay here.

I'm sorry.

You'd better excuse me. Enjoy your dinner. Good night.

Don't be offended. We've a right to be suspicious.

Orhan, we're only joking. Didn't you realize?

Please, sit down. For me.

Isn’t it a custom here to knock? Is it so urgent?

Yes, it is.

-Yes? -We told the police Deniz is missing.

To keep it from the media, Madam called an old police chief contact.

As you know, with Deniz being a celebrity, the media descend like vultures.

So they questioned us here. But you must go to the police station.

I told them everything you said.

I'm saying this so you don't contradict yourself there.

Why would I do that?


You never know with police business.

-We drank a lot that night. -Mister.


We drank a lot that night.

That's why I don't know. I mean, I can't remember much.

You know, when you drink a lot...

No, I don't know. I don't drink.

How does drinking a lot affect you?

What happens?

Don’t you remember what went on?

Do you pass out?

Do you do things you regret later?

No, nothing like that.

I mean, I don't know.

I'm a little muddled about that night.

I hadn't drunk for a long time. I wasn't drinking at all.

That night was the first time. It may be why I remember nothing.

And I crashed out in the garden.

Didn't Deniz wake you up?

How could he let you sleep there outside?

I think he called me once or twice.

Excuse me?

He called me once or twice, but...

I don't know. It's all a blur. Maybe I was dreaming.

Are you sure you've told me everything?

I've told you everything I remember.

-Halis. -Yes?

-How was the fish restaurant? -Amazing.

Always listen to your boss.

The best fish is the boss's wish.

OK, fix an evening there with Selda.

Whatever you say.

What's going on?

I presumed we were done.

Sit down.

Sit down.

I suggest you stay for a few days.

I want to go back to London.

Better if you don't, for the time being.

Look, I came here to work with Deniz.

And he isn't around.

I don't see why I should stay given that I can't work.

What's the rush, Orhan?

Why do you want to leave so fast?

Are you accusing me of something?


But you were the last person to see Deniz.

So you're a key witness.

Think carefully about that night.

Sometimes a word is enough to uncover a clue.

A sentence.

Try to remember.

I might see you again in a few days.

Can I have my ID back?

Here you are.

Can you pass forward a fare for one?

Can you pass on a fare for one?

Excuse me, a fare for one.

Mister, a fare for one.

A fare for one.

Drop me here.

Can I get a fish sandwich?

What do you want from me, asshole?

Get out of here.

Get out of here!

Fuck off!

Fuck off!

You found the place OK?

Sure, no problem.

What did the police ask?

What Deniz and I did that night.

As the last person to see Deniz, I'm told I'm a key witness.

But I don't think I was. I heard Deniz calling me in my sleep.

There was someone with him.


I've no idea.

I just saw what he was wearing.

So did you tell the police?

No. I thought it was a dream.

I only realized it wasn't when I saw the guy there after my interview.

And then I followed him.

What was he like?

My height, 40 or so, brown hair, thin.

He had this long hair. A patchy beard.

-Yusuf. -Sharp, piercing eyes.

-Yusuf? -Yes.

But Yusuf is dead. Deniz says so in his book.


Yusuf will go ballistic when he hears that.

Could he have hurt Deniz?

Yusuf only hurts himself.

Where is he?

Where's Deniz?

Why should I tell you?

So you know where he is.

What did you tell the police?

None of your business.

OK, why did you come to see Deniz that night?

Yusuf, please, say something. Why did you come over?

For you.

As a surprise. He said you'd be blown away to see me.

He was laughing like an idiot.

Then we had a fight and I left.

So he was planning it.

Deniz wrote that you died in his book.

That's what I thought.

I guess he wanted to see my face when I saw you.

So how do I die?


Or that's how it comes across.

So he even decided on my death.

Why do I kill myself?

He doesn't say.

But he portrays you so beautifully.

So full of feeling, so genuine.


Deniz has to lie to be genuine.

What else does he say?

He talks mostly about your childhood.

He's stuck back in those days?

Aren't we all?

If only I hadn't come that night.

Or I'd never left him.

If only, if only...

If only we hadn't swum together or held each other.

If only I'd never met Deniz.

If only I'd never met Deniz.

No, stick it in your pocket.

-It'll make you feel better. -Stick it in.

I was worse than you. Come on, get up.


So you made it through.

And you recovered, huh?

Where did that get you?

Have you been able to forget the car?

Or are you stuck back there?

In the car.

Where are you running?

Are you scared of the living?



I don't know what he said or did to you.

But, please, don't be mad at Yusuf.

If you got to know him...

If only you could.

What did Deniz tell you about me?


Never mind.

Keep it.

It's part of the book you're working on.

"Neval, we'll never part..."

So he wrote those words on a card he sent you from Rome.

When you love someone,

you hope that they love you back in the same way.

You imagine that you both have the same feelings.

But the truth is a whole different thing.

You can never know what's going through their hearts.

And it's never

the same as what's going through yours.

See that shop back there?

The clock shop?

Yes. It was my father's shop.

I spent my entire childhood there.

Really? Whose is it now?

Shall we go in and pretend to look at clocks?

Would you like to?

Wouldn't it be nice?

Another time maybe.

Neval Barlas.


I apologize.

To all of you.

I had a nightmare.

Hopefully, not one you have often.

Or you'll bring the house down on us.

Mum, if there's nothing to do, I'm going to bed.

-Good night. -Off you go.

Good night. Sleep well.

Sultan, you can tidy up here tomorrow.

Sweet dreams, Orhan.

You are OK, aren't you?

Sleep well.

Good night, Süreyya.

Even when Deniz is this age, I still can't sleep until he's home.

I listen to him walk up the stairs, along the corridor and open my door.

I pretend to be asleep. He knows, but pretends not to.

He lies down gently beside me.

Sometimes we fall asleep like that.

Ever since he was born, I've always felt I needed to protect him.

It's a strange feeling.

Constant pain.

I don't know your story.

But I know pain.

Pain either alienates people or binds them together forever.

Deniz recognizes a person in pain.

He was aware of the bond between you.

Deniz chooses people.

He always has.

They've found a body in the Bosporus.

We'll go to identify it tomorrow.

I'd like you to come, too.

Süreyya Soysal.

Mother, I'm coming with you.

At times like these, I feel sorry I gave up smoking.

Ali Karabulut.

My child!



You came up the stairs so fast.

I didn't want them to wilt.

You shouldn't have.

Thank you. They're beautiful.

-So are you. -No, I'm just my normal self.

Make yourself at home. I'll be right back.

-You have a beautiful place. -Thank you.

A fabulous view, too.

But let me warn you.

Don't expect a sumptuous dinner like one of Süreyya's.

The smells from the kitchen aren't bad.

And at Süreyya's, Sultan does the cooking and Sibel takes credit for it.

Hello, welcome.

I'm Ömer, Neval's husband.

-Welcome. -Good to meet you.

You, too.

Please, have a seat. Make yourself at home.

Orhan, sorry. I haven't introduced you. Ömer, my husband.

I came across your book a year ago, thanks to Deniz.

And I really liked it.

You bring the reader a modern take on stories from the oral tradition.

Neval read it first. Then she insisted I read it, too.

And she was right.

You didn't say you'd read my book.

Didn't I? I guess I forgot.

The book's a real treat.

I would so love to have been free like a writer and not tied to anyone.

We architects usually get bogged down in endless numbers and formulae.

I'm truly envious.

No need to be envious.

I gave up writing a long time ago.

Are you serious?


-Let me get the dessert. -No, please.

I'll do it.

On the ferry that day,

sitting there quietly

out on deck,

I could hear you breathe.

Your shoulder was brushing mine.

Walking towards the car,

that first evening, when I first saw you,

I never imagined it would be like this.

Then the next day, just...


I don't know how it happened.

I'd have never guessed.

You could be the lover I've been looking for all my life.

But you won't be.

It won't happen.

I just wanted you to know.

Neval, my love.

You've made something amazing again.

Everything you touch turns out perfectly.

Did you forget something?

Years ago, when I was very young, I was married with a son.

I'd written that amazing book you mentioned over dinner.

Zümrüt and I felt strong, open to everything.

Then something terrible happened.

I'm so sorry. Even saying that here is very painful.

We couldn't stay in Istanbul after that.

Zümrüt went to New Zealand. Her family helped.

And I took refuge in London.

I went into emotional shutdown, I denied myself feeling, passion, love.

I thought it would always be that way.

But since coming back to Istanbul, after so many years of being away...

Since coming back to Istanbul,

since I first saw Neval, I've felt a feeling reawaken inside me that I'd forgotten ever existed.

I'm so sorry. Maybe it is wrong of me to say this.

But, please, understand. It matters to me a lot.

I wanted to get it out there. I apologize.

I'm really sorry.

Wait, please. Wait.

There's no need to apologize.

The same thing happened to me.

I fell in love with Neval at first sight.

We're equal in that respect.

But there's one key difference.

I saw Neval first.

For heaven's sake, come.

Think of our little brother, too.

What did you say?

Is the house completely wrecked?

The kids are OK, aren't they?

Ever since Deniz was a boy, my husband never forgave him for anything.

He'd lock Deniz in here for hours.

Time after time at that.

I could have gotten in.

I could have broken the window and got him out, but I didn't.

Yılmaz believed Deniz could change.

But the more he punished him, the more Deniz resisted.

The key to Deniz's room. Keep it.

Perhaps, you'll find something that'll lead us to him.

Asaf Hodja's medals, that big silver tray, the samovar.

I took them, OK? I took them.

They're museum pieces. You've no right to keep them at home.

That's why you sold them for nothing to the junk man, huh?

What about mother's jewelry?

I took it to the covered market to be valued, OK?

Madam asked me to.

If she'd asked me, I could have got a far better price.

-You'd have swiped it long ago. -Oh, spare me!

At least it'd have stayed with the family, not someone who's imposed on us forever.

You mean someone who's labored for you forever.

-Where's the gratitude? -All this talk, but what about...

What about the Limoges dinner service?

-I had to sell the pieces separately. -There are 12 pieces left out of 64.

-They'd break if they were together. -All lies!

That's enough! Quiet!

Jewelry, paintings... What can't you share?

Look at you, so attached to things! As if there's room where we're going.

Mother, there's 240 square meters of it.


Talented author Orhan Şahin's storybook takes off.

"His writing promises us a unique journey."


Orhan Şahin buries his son today, forgotten in the car by his wife.



I can put in a spring from another clock.

But you must leave it here.


Don't worry, I'll take care of it.

-I'll call as soon as it's done. -Thanks.


The place has changed. A ton of shops have opened.

The guy next door wanted me to sell up.

So that he could expand his shop. I said, “My brother isn't here.

-I can't decide without him.” -You should have sold it if you wanted.

The shop's yours. You've put so much into it.

No, I used you as an excuse.

I'd have sold up if I'd wanted without asking you.

Whenever they get pushy, I dig my heels in.

Too bad.

Poor Erdem knows what I'm like.

How is he? How's his work going?

We got separated. Two years ago.

-I'm sorry. -I'm not, to be honest.

We couldn't stand each other anymore.

It's so hard to keep a marriage going once the kids have grown up.

Take as many trips together as you like.

Or have romantic dinners every night.

Next thing I know I'm looking at an old man.

And he's looking at an old woman.

All your stuff is in the storeroom. You know that, right?

Don't say you need something. It's chaos. I'd never find a thing.


I wrote you a ton of letters. You didn't reply to a single one.


You could have sent a card at least.

Or a blank piece of paper. An empty envelope.

You just disappeared.

I mean totally.

Dad died.

Then Mother got sick.

I was always on my own.

You know what Mother's concern was?

That you'd feel guilty about her.


She didn't want you to regret not being there when she was sick.

You know how many times she made me swear?

Not to say anything to you?

But that's how she was.

Very interesting.

People were so anxious to gossip and malign you.

Of course they were.

Running to England was easy.

True. But going away didn't help.

-11 years, since my Ismail died. -You couldn't have done anything.

Could you bear not seeing your child for a day?

I haven't seen mine for 11 years. Mountains, rocks, birds, hear my cries.

I want my child. I want him.

Can I have the bill?


Can we take care of the bill for table 8?

-And tea, please. -Sure, coming up.

Ergün, do you have a second?

If you live in the past...

you miss out on the present.

Ömer, I couldn't wait. I had to leave the party in a hurry.

No, no need. You have a good time.

I'll explain everything later.


Do you have everything, Sultan? Sweater, jacket, cardigan, underwear.

I got everything, Ma'am.

Oh, no, the sweater.

I'm sorry to put you out in the middle of the night, but I couldn't manage by myself.

We don't have time for that now, dear.

Leave right away with Neval.

-I'm lost here, but shall I come with you? -Thanks, but no need.

Absolutely there is!

Hello? Have you arrived?

Stay where you are. We'll be right there.



Sultan. Berfin, Rojda.

Look, your aunt's here.

-Ramazan, son, look. Your aunt's here. -Auntie.

Are you going to explain?

Her big brother.

Their house was destroyed.

Gun battles and stuff. In other words, they have been left homeless.

They have come here to a relative.

For refuge.

He said, “Don't come anywhere here.” So we're going to Bursa.” We're going to Zilan's.

-I called. She's expecting us. -Sultan, where to?

Sorry. Can we go to the bus station?

They have nowhere to stay here. We have a relative in Bursa.

That's where they're going.

-OK. -Thanks. Thank you.

-You're welcome. -Bless you.

Our soldier is the greatest!

Our soldier is the greatest!

Your bus is leaving soon.

-Thank you very much. Really. -You're welcome. It's nothing.

And they wondered what was going on in the hodja's house.

Everyone was seized with curiosity when he didn't answer the door.

I hope I'm not disturbing you.

-Of course not. -Don't get up.

Deniz keeps a packet of cigarettes in here.

For when he quits.

Will you have one?

Zero willpower.

The time's come for us to leave this house.

I was going to move out to a hotel tomorrow anyway.

I'm not clearing out this room until Deniz comes back. Stay here.

OK. Sure.

Yılmaz didn't want him.

He got upset by his barking.

One day he took him away.

We never saw Tommy again.

But Deniz didn't stop waiting for him.



And that director's so intriguing.

That red waterside mansion that appears beneath the sky and almost scares you at first.

The homeless man who's only worried about his paper.

Everything that's beautiful about Istanbul, all its melancholy that hard-to-describe muffled quality, it's all there in what you've written.

It would make a great novel, you know that, right?

But, look, there's something more important than any of that.

Don't leave.

I called you here to tell you the decision I've made.

I thought it over and couldn't find any other solution.

I'm going to finish Deniz's book.

I spoke to him about the book.

I know exactly what he wants.

Stop talking as if Deniz won't come back.

Do you know something?

Wake up, Yusuf.

Deniz won't ever come back.

What do you know?

What are you saying?

Don't act innocent, you of all people, Neval.

You know as well as I do that Deniz is dead.

All three of you know. What we don't know is was it an accident or suicide?

Don't be ridiculous.

Deniz wouldn't kill himself.

Maybe someone decided it was time

-he left the stage. -You lowlife.

Who'd want to kill Deniz?

You would know.

Who got the stuff for him?

-Come on. Let's hear it. -Fuck you.

Tell us. Who got Deniz mixed up with scum?

All you can do is run, junkie.

Let's hear it, Yusuf.


Just look at your face.

You had a snort before coming, huh?

Maybe even here in my bathroom.

You're nothing, Yusuf. Nothing.

I don't know what Deniz saw in you.

Maybe he was just a slave to his sense of pity.

Why are you still following me?

You're the closest to him.

What do you know about us?

What Deniz wrote in his book.

Your childhood.

We learned a lot together.

How to kiss, how to touch, to caress,

what's harmful and how harmful it is.

Have you ever tried to swim across the Bosporus?

Never even considered it.

The Bosporus was my only victory against him.

As a boy, I used to ask him to race me across the Bosporus.

He'd give it a try. Then he'd get scared after five meters and turn back.

I swam across plenty of times.

It's not easy. It's tough.


But phenomenal.

To go to the heart of the city, to be a part of it.

Of Istanbul.

To be a part of Istanbul.

He'd wait for me on the shore.

Because he knew he could never do it.

My darling.

My boy.

Our Yusuf's gone.

He talked about you all the time.

Any excuse and he mentioned you.

Deniz, Deniz.

He always talked about you.


The car's waiting.

Goodbye, Orhan.


I hate to trouble you, but remember to shut the doors and windows tight.

I hate you...

You can't know how much

I hate you, Yusuf.

As always, you got me all wrong...

You think I'm using you.

-Orhan? -Hello. How are you?

-Am I disturbing you? -No. I'm fine.

I found a letter Deniz wrote to Yusuf on his laptop.

He must have written it just before disappearing that night.

It's really fazed me. I wanted to share it with you.

-So read it. -No. I can't on the phone.

Can we meet?

Where are you?

Orhan, I can't come.

Sorry, I should have let you know, but I couldn't do it.

I tried. I set off.

-But then I turned around. -I'll come wherever you are.

I'm almost home.

Where are you, Neval?

What did Deniz write?

-Neval, where are you? -I told you. Close to home.

Stay where you are, OK? You're breaking up.

-I can't hear you properly. -OK. I've stopped.

What did he write?

The letter starts like this.

"I hate you.

You can't know how much I hate you, Yusuf.

As always, you got me all wrong.

I miss you and you think I'm using you.

I thought that in loving you, it was me against the world, whereas, you were just against me.

You think you've been abandoned.

But it's you who won't surrender yourself to our love.


I'm not afraid of the word. Are you?

Why do you say you hate yourself and me?

Why do we have to punish ourselves because others have punished us?

We need just one thing. And that's a little courage.

I think I have it.

I'm not afraid of you. I'll rise to your challenge. I'm ready.

How about you?"

I'm sorry you couldn't come, Neval.

I wanted to see you.