All language subtitles for Yellow.Letters.2026.BluRay.1080p.LDO.Dream.eng

This is

our cosmos,

our world,

our country,

our magnificent Earth.

A place where words
have no meaning.

The silent cry
of our inner infinity.

Where everything begins and ends.

Let the darkness come!

Thank you.

Congratulations!
You were all fantastic.

Everyone, the Governor
was in the audience.

Please stay here
for a group photo.

Thank you.

The play was wonderful.

Professor?
There you are.

Congratulations.
- Thank you.

Let's take a photo together.
Where's Derya?

Congratulations.
- Thank you.

Mr Aziz.
- Yes?

The play was wonderful. Thank you so much.
- Thank you.

My husband and I loved it.
- Thank you.

There were some
really important observations in it.

People are hungry.

They're tired of
those shallow TV dramas.
- Fikret?

Yes.

Have you met Fikret Kocabey?
A university colleague and fellow theatre-maker.

And an expert
on social and physical hunger.

I'll go and find Derya. Have a good evening.
- You too.

Brother, you're coming to Beyzade, right?
- Of course.

Don't disappear on us.

Mr Aziz,
excuse me.

I've been waiting for a while.
Do you have a moment?

Derya, the Governor's waiting
to take a photo with you.

It'll only take five minutes.

He'd be delighted
to see you.

Security forces have responded
to the terrorist attacks

aimed at destabilising
the country.

Fighting continues in eastern Anatolia,
while demonstrations spread across many cities.

Where exactly in Ayrancı
are you headed?

Do you know Güvenlik Street?
- Yes.

Drop us off
at Melis Patisserie.

Excuse me, could you
turn the radio down?

You can barely hear it.
- Then turn it off.

Okay.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

Are you sure?
Something's bothering you.

He turns up late
to the performance,

takes forever
to settle in with his entourage,

and then doesn't even
silence his phone. Unbelievable.

That phone rang three times.
Three times!

Do you think he cared about the play?
He just wanted the photos.

I'm so sick of it.

Everyone was looking for me.
Yavuz, Nisa, Serkan. Unbelievable.

Look at me.

You were brilliant.

Really. You kept exactly the same rhythm
as in rehearsals. It was wonderful.

I don't know.
The second act starts too slowly.

Trust me.
It was very good.

You're not in bed yet?

Welcome back to
"Mum's Silly Questions."

If you're still awake,
you could've come to the premiere.

I don't know.

Mum and Dad have created something
the whole city wants to see.

Doesn't that
make you curious?

Then perform
the highlights for me now.

Please.
Come on.

What's that?
Who sent it?

Maybe the Governor?

Everyone pinches my cheeks and says,
"My, haven't you grown."

As if
I'm not even there.

Who does that? Your hair's greasy.
- Everyone. Fikret, Nisa...

It's traumatising.
- The burden of being so loved.

Not as much as
your three-hour plays.

Aziz,
did you hear that?

I'm only quoting
what your father says.

An hour would be enough.
You're not saving the world.

Actually, we are.

Are you joking?
- No.

Do you really think
theatre can save the world?

Yes, I do.

What?

Go to your room.

Leave us alone.
- Love you too, Dad.

Cheers.
- Cheers.

By the way,

after the play,
a woman came up to me.

What woman?

An attractive woman in her fifties,
smartly dressed.

Blonde,
but not naturally.

She wanted to congratulate you,
but couldn't find you.

Right.

She's a TV talent agent
from Istanbul.

She said to get in touch
if you're ever there.

These days,
everyone's an agent.

Maybe we should become agents.
They make more than we do.

She came all the way from Istanbul
just to see you. She seemed polite.

Politeness is part of the job.
They're the pimps of our industry.

Then what does that
make you actors?

I'm going for a shower.
- Mind if I join you?

We'll see
what can be arranged.

Call my agent.

No to war!

Is no one else coming?

Everyone else
is at the protest.

Then why aren't you there?
- Are we allowed to go?

Everyone else
has gone.

So we can go?

I don't know.

What can I say? If you want to go,
go. This is a university.

I'm going.

Well...

What about you?

We're...
here for class.

Everyone,

if you haven't experienced
our state's theatre firsthand,

I can't teach you anything
about dramaturgy.

Don't miss it.

With your permission,
I'll go too.
- Go ahead.

See you later.

Hurry up.

Well?

Anyone else?

I'd rather
stay here.

Me too.
- We're here to learn.

To learn.

So what now?

We wait.

For what?

For Godot.

Brother?

Fiko, come in.

How was Beyzade?

Tell me the gossip.

Brother.

What's wrong?

You haven't heard,
have you?

Heard what?

Devin, Doğa,
Olgay, Deniz and Nilsu

go to a café
to celebrate a friend's birthday.

The following is known
about the order in which they arrive:

Nilsu isn't the first to arrive.

Olgay arrives
shortly before Deniz...

Hello.
- Hi.

Pelin, how are you?
- Good...

Can I ask you something?
- Sure.

Can we take a photo together?
- Oh, come on.

Of course.
- My dad's a big fan.

Give him my regards.
- Come on, take the photo.

Ugh.

How embarrassing.

How about a pizza?
- We're not hungry.

Who's "we"?

Wait, wait.

Is this a mosque?

Probably a funeral.

What's going on here?
- Don't ask. The others are inside.

Good evening, everyone.

Hi, everyone.
Good to see you.

Hi, Derya. How are you?
- Fine, but...

Sorry for turning up unannounced.
- We brought pizza. Are you hungry?

We're fine, thanks.
- I could eat something.

Shall I heat up
some courgette fritters?

You must be tired. I'll do it.
- Not at all. But what's going on?

Everyone got one:
Saliha, Gamze, Cüneyt...

I told you,
there's a pattern to it.

It's obvious.
- It's all being done systematically.

Everyone,
what's going on?

Will someone fill me in?

They've suspended all of us.

Our courses were cancelled,
enrolments were stopped,

and our contracts terminated.

"...because you taught only six
of the required twelve hours per week..."

"...condescending
and insulting remarks

that violated
personal rights."

It's probably because of
our stance on the war.

I spoke to Kadriye.
Tomorrow we'll see the rector.

Kadriye?
- From law.

The Maoist legal scholar.
- What's the rector supposed to do?

What do you mean?
- She signed the letter herself.

So sweet.

She's really grown up.

What time is it?

Almost three.

Put that thing away.

We're organising.

There's no point
trying to sleep anyway.

But you need to sleep.
There's a lot to do tomorrow.

It's the tension, Derya.
- Do you think I don't know that?

How does it go? Don't fear the problem,
fear fear itself!

Tomorrow is another day.

That kind of talk
is what got us into this mess.

Have a good day, Mr Hikmet.
- You too, Ms Derya.

Derya.
- I'm just getting a coffee.

Derya, can you take a quick look?
- Yes, yes.

INCORRECT PASSWORD

Welcome, Derya.

We're all meeting now.
- Like I said, coffee first.

We're waiting for you.

Brother, we're ready.

Okay.

Now that Derya is here,
we can begin.

Everyone, unfortunately,
I have some bad news.

They're deliberately
keeping us waiting.

Half an hour.
It's outrageous.

Come in.
- Come on.

We've received a warning
from above.

We're cancelling the play.

What?
- Temporarily.

Aziz's play?
- Yes, we're taking it off for now.

Why?

Does Aziz know yet?

He already knows, doesn't he?

I assume so.

Do you realise what kind of position
you're putting your colleagues in?

You're presenting them
with a fait accompli.

Ms Kadriye,
don't worry. I'm aware of it.

But I had nothing to do
with these letters.

Everyone, believe me,
we tried everything.

But under the circumstances, we unfortunately
have to cancel the play for now.

From Tuesday, we'll be performing
"Layla and Majnun" again.

Is this a joke?

Ms Zeynep.

What circumstances exactly?
Please explain them to us.

I mean
the current political climate.

Meaning what?

You know these are sensitive times.
- Explain it to us.

The letters could have come from
the Education or Interior Ministry.

Even so,
isn't it your job to protect us?

These colleagues
have families to support.

You have a responsibility
towards them.

Who says I'm not protecting them?
Please refrain from such insinuations.

Insinuations?
- Insinuations!

The real insinuations
are in these letters.

You can't simply
throw people out.

All the performances
are already sold out.

It would be a disgrace.
- We received a standing ovation.

Maybe so, Sema.
But it's out of our hands.

We won't accept this.

You need to speak
to the people responsible.

I already have.
- Then speak to them again.

As you command, dear Derya.

Excuse me?
What did you say?

You're forcing us
to go to court.

Let's stop this.

Our country is already
fighting against the whole world.

The whole world,
or every colour of the rainbow?

Excuse me?
- It's not difficult:

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue...
- Listen.

If you want to sue me, our university
or our state, be my guest.

This is absurd!
Friends, what are we even doing here?

We don't deserve this.

You know that too, don't you?

If you'd agreed to the photo,
things would be easier now, Derya.

That's all I'm saying.

Unbelievable.

You're cancelling the play
because of a photo?

That's not what I said.
- What didn't you say?

That the play was cancelled
because you refused the photo.

Then what did you mean?

Only that things
would be easier for us now.

Don't talk nonsense!

Give my regards to the Governor
and his sycophants.

Derya, that's too far.
Can you hear yourself?

Perfectly well.

You're trampling all over our work,
so who's going too far?

We're trying to explain
the situation to you politely.

We could have spared ourselves this discussion
and sent you a text message.

How generous.
I suppose we should be grateful.

Derya, that's enough.
- No, it isn't.

You don't get
special treatment like this every day.

Derya is right...

Enough!

From Tuesday, we'll be performing
"Layla and Majnun" again.

Think carefully
about where you stand.

Well,

this meeting is now over.
Thank you.

That's you.

So tiny.

All right, everyone.
You can go.

Unbelievable.

I've never heard
such nonsense.

This is exactly
what they want.

They don't want anyone to know
what they do behind closed doors.

Not with us.

My beloved wishes
her lover life

But one who loves for personal gain
is nothing but a merchant

O Lord, do not let the strong
rob the weak of their possessions

O Lord, do not let a friend
share a bed with the enemy

My wounded heart
seeks a wounded heart, not a husband

Instead, it longs for roses,
O Lord

You could at least
try again.

What do you mean?

The theatre.

You don't have to apologise,
but at least...

Aziz, if you expect me to suck up to him,
we have a problem.

I'm not asking you to suck up to him,
but if we're both unemployed...

Do the math.
- Great, as if I don't know that.

What about
the guitar lessons?

They cost a lot.
We should discuss it.

Look where we've ended up.
- Where have we ended up?

My hothead. Always where the action is.
- You sent your students to the protest!

That's beside the point.
- I defended your play.

Keep your voice down.

The way he behaved!
Am I supposed to play Layla now?

If you'd spoken to him privately...
- Even if I play Layla,

can't you see
they have a problem with us?

They'd only find something else.
- You humiliated him in front of everyone, didn't you?

This isn't the time
to play the heroine.

You think
I'm trying to be a heroine?

Sometimes your big ego
needs stroking, yes.

Just open the door.
- No one else will tell you that.

Mr Zülfikar,
come in.

Good evening, Mr Zülfikar.
Welcome.

Please come in.

This way.

I won't beat around
the bush.

The police came today and searched
the building, including our flat.

They asked who comes and goes
and who you associate with.

And?
- And nothing.

They said there were traitors
and terrorists everywhere.

And that we should report
anything suspicious.

Mr Zülfikar, I understand,
but we ourselves...

Children, you know
I'm fond of you.

We've lived here together
for many years, haven't we?

But I want there
to be peace in my building.

It was disturbing
that the police questioned everyone today.

We're not used
to things like that.

It's everyone's duty
to preserve the peace in the building.

I just wanted
to remind you of that.

Mr Zülfikar, you're acting
as though we've done something wrong.

I can't judge that,
Derya.

I've said what I had to say.
The rest is up to you.

I'll be going now.

By the way, no one's come yet
about the mould in the bathroom.

Aziz,

I don't want to have to explain myself
to the police again.

Now they're coming right to our door.
Unbelievable!

Ezgi could have answered the door.
It would have frightened her.

Yes, we need to explain
the whole situation to her.

Am I losing
my mind now?

Come here.
- What is it?

Come on, come on.

Those men over there
have been hanging around for ages.

So?
- Are they watching us?

Nonsense.

Look, just look...

Don't get paranoid,
or I will too.

But he's looking up here,
Aziz.

Who's looking up here?
- Ezgi, it's nothing...

Your dad thought
he saw a friend.

How was your lesson today?
- Very good.

It sounded good too. Are you happy with her
or should I give her a good telling-off?

We're making good progress.

If she practises the études in her spare time,
she's well on her way.

Right, Ezgi?
- Yes.

Thank you.
- Thank you.

I'll see you out.

See you next Friday, Ezgi?
- Yes, goodbye.

Have a good evening.
- You too.

You've got a ladder in your tights.

Oh, no.

What is it, Fikret?

Slow down.
What's happened?

What?

When?

You're in the park.
Okay.

Okay, I'm on my way.

Where are you going?
- They searched our offices.

No!
- There were arrests too.

Well,

we've tried everything.

But in the current
economic climate,

we can only suspend the loan repayments
for three months.

Better than nothing, right?
- Yes, of course.

After that, however,
we'd have to raise the interest rate.

By how much?

Nineteen per cent.
- Nineteen per cent?

Nineteen per cent, yes.

Nineteen per cent, Ms Nesrin?

I've done
what I could.

I suppose we'll just
have to swallow it, won't we?

Of course.

Forgive me, Ms Derya,
perhaps this is inappropriate...

Where do I know you from?
A TV series?

Yes, before all our channels
were controlled by the state.

Back when interest rates
weren't so outrageously high.

All right. So...

Is there anything else
I can do for you?

What do you mean, "anything else"?

We have no links
to illegal organisations.

And no one has
given us orders.

Everyone has the right to live in peace
and to demand that right.

That is what we believe
and what we stand for.

No one may restrict
our civil rights.

It is our democratic right
to live as equals

and to be treated with dignity.

The citizens of this country

are being systematically deprived
not only of their jobs,

but also of
their place in society.

These people have integrity
and legitimate concerns.

We want to live in peace,
free as a tree, united as a forest.

WE WANT
OUR JOBS BACK

Shoulder to shoulder, we defend our right
to freedom, justice and peace.

No one will deprive us
of our rights.

Rights! Law! Justice!

Have a good day, Brother Hikmet.

Ms Derya.

What is it, Brother Hikmet?

Well, how can I put this?

What's this?

"Your resignation
has been accepted."

Who sent this?

They're rehearsing inside.

So?

I was told not to let you in.

What?
- I was surprised too.

But I'm only doing
what I'm told.

Who gave the order?

Brother Hikmet.

You didn't hear it from me,
but it was Ms Zeynep.

Ms Derya.

Where are you?

You are the brave one,
the one with conviction.

You. You. You.

You're the one
who should be here.

You. You. You.

But where are you?
- Where are you?

Here I am, Sema.

Wow.

Well done, everyone.

Keep it up.

Isn't she home?
- She is.

Maybe she didn't hear.
Try again.

My darlings.
- Hello.

Welcome.

My darling.
How she's grown.

Welcome.

I've been waiting for you.

Don't take your shoes off.

It's good to see you.
- Welcome.

Go into the living room.
Come in.

I've made tea and cake.
Everything's ready.

You went to all this trouble?

By the way, you'll sleep in my room
and Ezgi will sleep in the guest room.

And you?
- I'll sleep here.

We can't let you do that.
- Of course you can.

I always fall asleep
in front of the television anyway.

End of discussion.

Is this my room?

Yes, my love.

The pizza in Ankara
was better.

But it's more expensive here.
- Welcome to Istanbul.

I'm going to my room
to call Pelin.

Don't forget your plate.
- Who's Pelin?

A friend from Ankara.
I'll clear the table.

I made such delicious leeks,
and now they'll go to waste.

We'll eat them tomorrow,
don't worry.

We want to make the transition easy for Ezgi.
Today is an exception.

She needs to eat properly.
It's important at her age.

Are you talking about me?
- Ears like a lynx.

Come here, my little one.
Come.

That's not necessary.
- Thanks, Grandma.

Stay out of this.
This is between us.

You're a young woman now
and can buy your own soft drinks.

That way, you won't depend on anyone.
Are you seeing someone?

What do you mean?
- A boyfriend?

Grandma...
- Or someone you love.

Is there Wi-Fi here?
- What?

Internet.
- Oh, only through my phone.

Here, take mine.

Such a wonderful age.

All right then.
Would you like coffee?

Yes, please. On the shelf to the right.
A little sugar.

And you?
- Yes, please.

So, what's the plan?
What can I do for you?

You've taken us in,
that's enough.

This politeness is insulting.
This is your home too.

Besides, being alone
all the time is awful.

So,
what do we do now?

The university filed a lawsuit.
And we filed one in response.

The other case is criminal.
- Criminal?

The prosecutor summoned me.
Apparently, a student reported me.

They searched my social media
and put some posts in the case file.

The prosecutor is seeking a prison sentence
for insulting the President.

It could be more than four years
in prison.

Did you insult someone?

Mum, I know the difference
between criticism and insult,

and I didn't insult anyone.
They're trying to intimidate us.

How can you be so sure?

Is there anything
we can still be sure of?

When is the hearing?

I don't know.
We're waiting.

Do you believe in the justice system,
if you're waiting on it?

What choice do I have?
The lawyers are doing their best.

Yes, the lawyers,
but what are you doing?

I'm applying for jobs.

Where?

At private universities.
I'm also working on translations.

And you, Derya?
- I want to work too.

Meaning what?
- Mum?

You're so sensitive!
Can't I even ask a question?

I'm looking for work and a good school for Ezgi.
We're doing our best.

As soon as we know more,
we'll return to Ankara.

That's not what
I meant at all.

No, you
misunderstood me.

I'm very happy
that you're here.

I'm here for you,
financially and emotionally.

Thank you.

And I'll prepare Ezgi
for her exams.

There's no need to worry...
- Oh, the coffee!

No problem.

We shouldn't be drinking coffee
this late anyway.

Hey, you.

My darling.

Everything will be all right.

Get up.

Get up.
Or I'll put you in the oven

and bake and eat you.
- Let go of me.

It's only temporary.

This is where we part.
- Shouldn't we come with you?

Do you want to sit in class with me too?
- Can you find your classroom?

Yes, and don't pick me up.
I can find my own way back.

Do you have your sandwiches?
- Yes.

Do you need anything else?
- Please just go.

Okay.

Mum.

Bye.
- Good luck.

The conservatory might also be an option.
She's good at music and art.

The conservatory?

She'll never be a professional musician.
- Excuse me?

If she were a virtuoso,
we'd know by now.

So she should just give up now?
Sometimes you talk nonsense.

Hello.
- Hello.

We're boycotting the canteen
and collecting signatures.

The high prices and poor quality
are unacceptable.

So we bring our own food
and share it during the breaks.

But the headmaster intervened.
He says we could hide drugs in the food.

So we're exercising our democratic right
to collect signatures.

Would you sign it?
- Yes.

Is this a joke?

A joke?

Wonderful.
- Thank you.

Did she say drugs?

There it is.

They last about
two or three years.

When does
the new model come out?

Supposedly in spring,
but we won't get it until...

summer. But forget the tablet,
I'll give you a laptop...

No, I'll think about it.
- All right.

Have a nice day.
- Thanks, you too.

Wow! Wow, Derya.

What brings you here?
- Give me a hug, brother.

Welcome.
- Thanks, how are you?

Good, thanks.

It's been a while
since our son's circumcision, hasn't it?

Well, you know:
Ankara, university, work...

That's true.

Please, sit down.

Şükrü?
Tidy this up.

Please excuse
the mess.

All right then.
Tell me.

You know we moved to Istanbul?
- Yes. I wondered when you'd call.

Well, here we are.
How's Gülin?

Good, thank God.

And the children?
- They're well too.

We've missed you.

Where did you leave Ezgi?
- At school.

In the afternoons, she studies with Aziz's mother
for her exams.

For high school?
- Exactly. We'll bring her next time.

God willing.

We came to discuss
something with you.

Do you smoke?
- Not anymore.

I'm listening.
- Okay, let's get straight to the point:

We have that plot of land
in the Ida Mountains...

Let's sell it.

Why?
- What?

Why do you want to sell it?
- We're in trouble.

We need the money,
simple as that.

We lost our jobs, you know?
- Yes, I already heard.

And the flat?
Your furniture?

It's all in storage.
We're staying with my mother for now.

Derya, you don't make a decision like that
in a hurry.

The local council is working flat out
on building a tunnel.

It'll increase the value of the land.
So we should wait.

What?
- Nothing.

I'm just wondering whether you'd have come
if it weren't about the land.

Well, we're having money problems
and asking you for help.

Of course we'll help.

But you don't make a decision like that on the spot.
I have to go to Friday prayers now, okay?

Aziz,
come to the mosque.

You go ahead.
I'll wait here.

Derya,
keep an eye on the shop.

Are you coming to Friday prayers?
- See you in a bit.

So you're unemployed?

I'm applying here and there.

I'm also doing
some translation work.

Translations?

Can you make a living from that?

Boss! Sorry, I'm wet.
How are you?

Good, thanks.
- This is Aziz, my brother-in-law.

This is our Chief of Police.

You never miss Friday prayers.
- Just like you.

See you upstairs.
- See you soon.

He was looking for a PlayStation 5
for his grandson.

It was impossible to find, even in Europe.
I got him one in just two days.

The Chief of Police.
And I'm his first port of call.

In the surah I am reading,
Allah says:

"Remain steadfast,
as you have been commanded.

And may those who repent with you
also remain steadfast.

Do not transgress the bounds
of law and decency,

for Allah sees
what you do."

In the hadith I am reading,
the Prophet says:

"Righteousness leads to goodness.
And goodness leads to Paradise."

GOD DOES NOT MEAN
THE WORLD LITERALLY AT ALL.

May Allah
accept your prayers.

Hey, Recai.

Brother, may Allah accept your prayers.
- May Allah accept yours.

Do you know my brother-in-law?

Aziz, pleased to meet you.
- Likewise. Recai.

Recai, are you still looking
for reliable drivers?

Yes, I am.

Aziz is one of the most decent people
in the world.

You can trust him completely.

A good deed
on blessed Friday.

Salih's family is my family too.
Come by tomorrow.

Well, I don't know.
This is a little sudden.

Write down Recai's number.

Save his number.

Save me as Taxi Recai.

0532...

Hello, everyone.

Hello.
- Hello.

So, what are you doing?
- Studying.

But the young lady
is a little annoyed.

That's the first
I've heard of it.

Always memorising things.
As though the internet doesn't exist.

AI must be
laughing its arse off.

Don't use language like that.

She's right,
but we all had to go through it.

Why should it be
any different for you?

Because I wasn't born
in the Stone Age like you.

So, how was your first day
at school?

Pretty boring.
- Boring?

What's so boring
about a petition?

They're just idiots.
- Did you sign it too?

Only so I wouldn't be excluded straight away.
- Good, okay.

Then you'll get a bigger packed lunch tomorrow.
- Oh, thanks.

We talked about other schools today.
If you do well in the tests...

Forget it, Mum.
I won't make it anyway, and they're all rich kids.

Why?
Your practice exams were good.

I want to be an artist.
You have to experience life for that.

Oh, really?

It doesn't have to be a private school.
A state school is fine.

You just said they were all idiots.
- Not all of them. Some play guitar.

Made friends already?
- They're not friends yet, darling.

Mum, did you buy the cola?
- I didn't. She must have bought it herself.

It was me, Aziz.
I bought it.

I just felt like having some.
It's not the end of the world, is it?

She repeats everything you say.
- I didn't say anything about the schools.

Didn't you tell Fikret
that an artist has to experience life?

What am I supposed to do?
She picks up everything.

She'll find her own way,
one way or another.

What matters
is our attitude as a family.

Our attitude?
- Yes, how we deal with problems.

All we can do
is prepare her well for life.

That sounds like a TV series.

Oh, really?
- One of the bad ones.

Not everyone is a linguistic genius
like you, dear Aziz Tufan.

Hello, Kadriye.

No, we're still awake.
What is it?

Can't it
be brought forward?

Okay, okay.

All right.
Thank you.

I'll be in touch.
Good night.

What did she say?
- The court date isn't for another seven months.

Seven months?
- Yes.

Are you going to call that taxi guy?
- Who?

My brother's friend.

I don't know.
I still need to think about it.

Seven months.
What are we going to do until then?

Everything is so uncertain.

Even if I drive a taxi,
what will you do?

Maybe I'll act
in a TV series.

Or become a model.

You think you're
that beautiful?

Or I'll drive a lorry.

Me in a lorry, you in a taxi.
What do you think?

Right in the thick of life.

Why not?

CASTING AGENT

Listen.

I'm not having anything
done to my face.

And I'm not making a fool of myself
just to get more followers.

No one expects you to.

But social media
is important these days.

Please don't take this
the wrong way, but...

But?
- You know the situation.

Yes.

To improve your chances, it would help
to delete some of your old posts.

Which ones?

The political ones.

You don't have to say anything now.
Think about it.

And do what you think is right.
- We're talking past each other, Kübra.

Thanks for the tea.

There are more customers during the day,
but less traffic at night. Which do you prefer?

Nights.

All right. But be careful,
there are plenty of lowlifes around at night.

I'll be careful.

Do you know Istanbul well?
- Of course, I grew up here.

You don't smoke, do you?
- No.

The customers can't either.
- Of course.

Great.

The "X" is new.
It used to say "TAKSİ."

May God protect you.

Amen.

What time is it?

4:30.

What are you doing?

I'm making sandwiches for Ezgi.

Go back to bed.
- I can't sleep anyway.

Hey!

I can't drive you.
Especially not when you're drunk. Please get out.

What are you watching?

They're holding their classes in the park
because they're banned from the university.

"Street Academy."

Everything will be all right.

You say it too.

Everything will be all right.

Come on.

Everything will be all right.

Hello. Welcome.
- Hello.

Kadıköy, please.

Whereabouts in Kadıköy?

The Blok Theatre.
Do you know it?

Of course.

Keep the change.
- Thank you.

What are you seeing?
- No idea. Some friends invited us.

Okay, have fun. Have a good evening.
- Thanks.

Hello.

Hello, welcome.

You brought
the whole market home.

Grandma dragged us to the furthest corners.
Why? Because it's supposedly cheaper there.

She's right.
The front of the market is more expensive.

Is it worth the two lira?

Money doesn't grow on trees.
Did you miss me?

Thanks for clearing that up.
No, I didn't.

Off you go.

We're having guests tonight.
- Who?

My brother and his family,
for the breaking of the fast.

Really?

Why, are you busy?
- No, let them come.

Would you like coffee?
- No, I'm fasting.

What?
- Seriously?

Yes.
Do I have to justify myself?

No, I mean...

To impress your brother?
- Do you think I'm a hypocrite?

We fasted
when we were children too.

I'm not saying anything.
May God accept it.

How did it go with the taxi?
- Not bad.

I passed Baran's theatre.

Which Baran?
Will you chop the onions? It's urgent.

From our old theatre group.
- Baran Tunçyürek?

Yes.
- Chop them finely.

He's performing his own play
in Kadıköy

and I think
he's also a partner.

Weren't you supposed to be driving a taxi?
- I dropped off a passenger there.

There was a lot going on outside the theatre,
so I went in for a moment.

I got us tickets
for Tuesday.

In case we feel like going.

You could have got one for your mother too.
- Why?

Well,
she seems a little irritable.

She and Ezgi argue a lot.
She should get out for a while.

That's just how my mother is.
We'll have to grin and bear it.

Grandma wants a coffee.

Wonderful.

Don't always expect me to do everything.
Your father will show you how.

I need to take a shower.

First the water...
- I know how to make coffee, Dad.

Was that the cannon?

Your plates, please.

Yes, we can begin.

May Allah accept it.
- May Allah accept it.

Thank you, Derya,
what a beautiful spread.

It was a little last-minute,
so forgive me.

Enjoy your meal.

So, boys,

how are you?
It's been a long time.

We're well,
Aunt Derya.

We've invited you over
so many times.

Unfortunately, we missed seeing you onstage.
- It's on YouTube.

Why?
Aren't you performing anymore?

Not at the moment. It's uncertain.
- Really?

I really wanted
to see you perform one day.

Salih tells everyone that his sister
is the star of the State Theatre.

There's nothing to boast about.
Smaller theatres were braver than we were.

Nothing to boast about?

I still have all the newspaper articles.

I kept every one of them.
But they're only about the actors.

No one cares
about the writers.

That's our fate.
- Those in the know know my Aziz too.

I wanted to see the boys in the school play,
but they didn't want me to.

You have a school theatre?
- Of course.

There is a theatre group,
but...

But what? Is there one or not?
- Yes, but they perform strange plays.

Such as?

How should I know? It's confusing stuff.
- Maybe absurdist theatre?

They're hardly going to give children Jelinek or
Heiner Müller. They're harmless plays.

Who are those people, Grandma?

Elfriede Jelinek
is an Austrian feminist writer.

You'll miss out on things like that
at a state school.

Can we leave that subject
alone tonight?

What subject?
- They want me to go to a private school,

but I think it's unnecessary.
- Ezgi.

What?
- Wait a minute.

Is that why
you want me to sell the land?

Well, partly.

No income, lots of expenses.
The school is just the icing on the cake.

Barış, Erdinç,
stand up.

Stand up!

Derya, what do you see?
- What am I supposed to see?

Do you see any flaws?
Any abnormalities?

Sit down, boys.

They're fine boys.
Love, respect, they have it all.

State schools are better
than you think.

That's not what this is about.
- Then what is it about?

Selling the land.

We both inherited it.
It belongs to us as much as it does to you.

Derya.
- Wait, Aziz.

Now that we're discussing it,
let me finish.

Derya is right. The profile of the schools
has changed in recent years.

I'm not talking about schools right now.
- Derya, once again:

If you need money,
I can help.

We're family, after all.
Right, Gülin?

Of course, Derya,
we'd be happy to help.

It would be a good deed
during holy Ramadan.

Let's leave it at that.

Ezgi, will you get the baklava
we brought from the kitchen?

Maybe it'll lighten
the mood.

Stay seated, Ezgi.

Always the girls, right?

Erdinç, Barış,
why don't you get the dessert today?

Stay seated, boys,
I'll go.

Darling, look at me.

Instead of standing by me,
you were just a coward, Aziz. I'm speechless.

Darling, I only wanted to...
- Go!

I don't want to talk to you right now.
Get out.

The baklava from Güllüoğlu
really is in a class of its own.

The military operations
at the border are continuing.

The ministry stated: "We must
fight terrorism at its roots."

Numerous targets were destroyed
in air and ground attacks.

It was strongly emphasised
that these attacks

are in accordance with international law
and necessary for national defence.

That smells nice.
Are you wearing perfume?

Grandma's?

And new earrings? Is that a snake?
Where did you get them?

Who's the lucky one?
- Oh, Mum.

Tell me.
- One of the guitarists, but nothing's going on.

But he gives you presents?
- He doesn't have money for that.

It was probably
just a promotional freebie.

Do you have a photo of him?

No.
He doesn't use social media.

Cool.
- I think so too.

We're going to the theatre
next week.

Bring him along.
- No way.

You don't have to introduce him.
We'll pretend we don't know each other.

I can't tell you anything.
You already want us married.

I'm only curious.

But I have a private life too,
you know?

Darling, mothers want to know
who their children spend time with.

It's no big deal.
We just play guitar together.

Good. I'm happy
when good people come into your life.

But don't tell Dad, okay?

What are you writing?

I'll show you
when it's finished.

What do you think about Ezgi?

What do you mean?

Do you talk to her?

Did I distract you?

We live together.
Of course I talk to her.

But this isn't
about Ezgi right now.

Then what is it about?
- You.

You.

What we're going through
isn't easy for anyone.

But I don't want you
speaking to me like that again.

Dad, can I ask you something?
- Go ahead, my love.

Why didn't you
teach me Kurdish?

You speak Kurdish?

Yes, I'm taking a Kurdish course.
- What for?

It's our mother tongue.
I want to know who I am.

Well, you're Sultan.
- I want to know my roots.

Roots?
You're not a plant!

I'll learn it without your help.
- Great, you'll get a gold star.

Are you making fun of me?
- Not at all.

I don't know
what language to speak to you in.

Maybe I could
learn English too.

"This is a pen."

Sure, Dad:
"This is a potato."

Welcome.

Give me a hug.
- It's good to see you here.

We're happy
to see you too.

There! Again.
- What?

She doesn't like my plural:
"We're happy."

I don't like it
when couples speak for each other.

Aren't you happy to see Baran?
- I'm not happy, I'm elated.

The play was great.
- Thanks, Derya.

Beer? Wine?
What would you like?

Water.
- Beer.

Beer.
- Rojda, two beers and a water, please.

Sure.

Rojda and I run the place.
I'd be lost without her.

No, please.
- No.

We can't accept that.

Thank you.

So, friends,
how's life?

We're getting by.

And your hearing?
- We're still waiting.

Will you be able
to return to the university soon?

That would be my right.
The same goes for my colleagues.

But none of us knows what will happen.
- I know that feeling all too well.

Keep fighting.
- Exactly.

And how are you, Baran?

We're fighting to keep the theatre open.
But only 50 people came today.

If I didn't like you both so much, I'd say:
Come and fight with us here.

Tonight is your night.

Our theatre isn't as big
as what you're used to.

We're here because of you.

That's what I mean:
We could see each other every day.

Let's create something, like we used to.
Actor, writer, stage: it's all here.

The Ministry of Culture and Foreign Affairs
sets the subject matter. That's not up to me.

But all the others are: President, Prime Minister,
Education and Interior. They're all hers.

Exactly. One wrong word
and I'll tear you apart.

Careful.

What do you think
of his suggestion?

Well,

it's not a good time,
with all this uncertainty.

But shouldn't we act
instead of waiting for our fate?

What do you mean?

Didn't you say that in Ankara
we couldn't be as brave as we wanted?

And?
- I agree.

Looking back,
we were unhappy in Ankara, weren't we?

We always had to get
the plays approved first.

And yet we had
such big dreams at the beginning.

Now we dream
of making ends meet.

Making ends meet can't be a dream.
It mustn't be.

Coffee?
- I'll have some of yours.

Here you go.

"Yellow Letters?"

What comes next?

Read it first.
Then we'll talk.

Finished?

What do you think?

Don't you think
we need something like this right now?

YELLOW LETTERS

And go.

One at a time.

Move through.
- Come on.

Keep moving.

Go.

Hurry up.

This way, please.

You go on ahead.
- No, we'll wait.

You can't wait here.
Keep moving!

Do you have a pacemaker
or any other implants?

No, it must be the metal in my bra.
That's all.

Okay, wait here.

Would you like tea or coffee?
- Cut that line.

Peace be upon you.

We're running late, we have to go.
- Okay, no problem.

Go through.
- Here, please.

Jacket.

Shoes.

Bra.

Excuse me?

You need to take off your bra.
- Is this a joke?

We're only following instructions.
- Yes, we're all only following instructions.

Please.

You may proceed.

I told you,
it's the metal part.

Oops, it's beeping again.

Then the trousers have to come off too.
- What?

Take off your trousers.
- Try it without them.

My knickers too?
- Gladly.

Who do you think you're stripping?
- No need to get smart.

Who are you stripping?

Take her away.

What did I do?
- You'll find out.

Okay, okay.

Aziz.

I think the scene
should end differently.

How?

They should strip the woman
completely.

What do you mean?

Completely naked?

Well...

Okay.

What do you think? Completely naked?
- Completely naked?

We're not in Europe,
so I don't know.

Rojda,
what do you think?

If you're unsure,
follow the actors' instincts.

But it's questionable whether the female body
should be put on display like that.

It's not about
what we want,

but what the scene requires.

So the men shouldn't let go of her
until she's taken off her trousers.

It's about
crossing that boundary.

They should only arrest her
after they've got what they want.

Okay, noted.
We'll think about it.

For now, let's continue
with the arrest.

In six weeks?

We can manage it by then.
What do you think?

We should take our time.

What do you think of the title?
- What do you mean?

"Yellow Letters" is fine,
but can we find something better?

"Yellow Letters" is good.
Our message should be clear.

I agree.
- Yes, me too.

Without the yellow letters,
you wouldn't be here, would you?

Rojda, would you like
to elaborate?

I'm only saying how it is.
- And how is it?

You kept well out of it
until it affected you personally.

You had it comfortable at the State Theatre
for years, didn't you?

Rojda,
that's not very fair.

Why do you care how comfortable we were?
- She's right.

But believe us,
we're taking this very seriously.

Fine, the premiere
is in six weeks.

What do you think about the nudity?

What's her problem?

Don't take it personally.
Approval for another play is still pending...

Back to the subject.
- Which one?

The nudity.

People won't talk about the play,
but about Derya Tufan being naked.

Let them talk.
Eyes or breasts, what's the difference?

Your character doesn't want to undress.
If you do, the political point is lost on me.

Besides,

it's questionable whether a male writer
and director

can demand something like that
from an actress.

It would be different with a female writer?
And you're afraid of complaints?

No, we're used to those.

It was only a suggestion.

Because you wanted to be braver, Aziz.
That was the idea.

Anyway,
we'll promote it properly.

People should know
that you're carrying on.

Even if the whole world knows, the theatre only has
100 seats. Let's avoid unnecessary costs.

Ezgi.

Ezgi.

Ezgi, have you
fallen into the toilet?

Come on,
I want to ask you something.

An actor's part.
Five letters.

Seriously, Grandma?
"Role," what else?

Albanian currency.
Three letters.

Lek.

Colloquial term for an idiot.

No idea.
- Numbskull.

"Numbskull"?
That's brilliant.

That's still hot.
It'll upset your stomach.

I'm meeting some friends.

But it'll be dark soon.
- We're meeting right outside.

Hang on, where are you going?
And who are you meeting?

I'm meeting friends and I have my phone.
Just getting some fresh air, don't worry.

Hi.
- Hi.

Let's go.

Do you know what a "Stoffel" is?
- Stoffel? Some kind of demon?

No.
Another word for an idiot.

"Your Honour, esteemed court,

as a law-abiding citizen
who has always fulfilled his obligations

and has never been
in conflict with the law,

I am surprised
by the seriousness of these charges."

That's good.
- Yes.

"I am an academic

and I simply wish to pursue
my scholarly work in peace.

Freedom of opinion and expression
are indispensable to any democracy.

Social problems should be resolved through dialogue
and reason, not through violence."

Derya, I have
an interesting project for you:

the lead role in a series
with a great team

and a solid budget.

That's not
what we agreed.

I know.
- Coffee, Derya?

I wouldn't bother you
if it weren't perfect for you.

"I have merely criticised the wars
that have raged for years,

claiming countless lives
and leaving deep scars on our society.

And I encouraged people
to express their desire for peace without fear.

There was no criminal intent, no instructions,
and no propaganda on behalf of others."

I'm waiting.
- No, say the line first, then walk through.

That's what we agreed.
With the opening line.

I'm waiting,
without knowing what for.

The princess is here.

Princess, my foot.
- Come on.

Sorry.
Come back.

What's with the arms?
- You do it then.

I'm not an actor.

Twelve brands.
I found the cheapest one.

Choosing well is important,
just like with friends.

Excuse me?

You mean İso? We're not even together.
- And his surname?

Mum, what's this about?
- Try to understand!

I don't want
to have to worry.

Karacabaş.
There, are you happy now?

Or do you need his ID number,
his address, or anything else?

Tomato sauce.

Tomato sauce.

"I reject the accusations
and demand my immediate acquittal."

Our students are looking forward to seeing you!
- Yes, Monday...

We miss you here.
- The big day has arrived.

And your defence statement?
- Derya's reading it now.

Best regards.
- She sends her regards.

Give her my regards too.
- Okay, take care.

Short and to the point.

Good.

Kids...
- Oh, we woke you.

What time is it?
- It's five o'clock.

I couldn't sleep anyway.
Have you eaten?

We've brought something.

Remember Ezgi's sandwiches
in the fridge.

Don't worry.

We have to go, the train won't wait.
- Give me a hug.

Defend your rights to the very end,
my son.

I'll be praying for you.

Bye.

There they are.

Come on, everyone,
we're running late.

If an idea isn't a crime,
then expressing it isn't either.

Order!
Take your seat again.

Our time is being wasted here.
There is no crime.

One day we'll return to the campus.
- Exactly.

This is not a lecture hall.

Don't forget that.
Right, let's continue.

2018-24.
- Present.

You are the son
of Mehmet and Güngör,

born on 12 January 1975
in Kadıköy, Istanbul,

currently registered at Başak Sokak 6, Flat 1,
Esadoğlu district, Çankaya, Ankara.

Is that correct?
- I live in Istanbul.

Evin Park Sitesi, Block C,
Flat 46, Fikirtepe,

Kadıköy, Istanbul.

Level of education?
- PhD.

Occupation?

Academic. I was dismissed.
- What is your income?

I currently have no fixed salary.
I'm working as a taxi driver.

I earn less than the minimum wage.
- Turkish citizen, no prior convictions.

A complaint
has been filed against you.

You also posted
a number of comments about the President.

Would you like to respond?

I'm not only an academic,
I'm also a writer.

I live in a world
of ideas and imagination.

Everything I write, including my plays,
is inspired by life.

I published those posts
in light of the political situation.

I do not consider them insulting
and I reject the accusations.

Here is our written submission,
but I would also like to address the court.

There are hundreds of hearings still to come.
I'll give you three sentences.

Three sentences?

Order!
- That's unacceptable.

My client is right. Our statement has already been
submitted to the prosecutor. We reject the charges.

His posts express criticism.
They do not constitute a criminal offence.

Following a complaint,
his social media accounts were searched.

The police, prosecution and courts
acted with unusual speed.

The aim was to intimidate my client
and deter him from making further posts.

All of his statements fall under
the right to freedom of expression.

I request that the travel ban be lifted
and that my client be acquitted.

Objection!

We investigated
the complaint against him.

He encouraged his students in class
to take part in a demonstration.

And he pressured students
who refused.

Although the demonstration was called "No to War,"
it was clearly directed against our state.

There is a video
from the classroom.

We request
that it be shown now.

The video was not part
of the indictment.

We therefore request
that it not be admitted.

That is for the court to decide.

How long is the video?
- Very short, Your Honour. Thirty seconds.

The court rules:

The video is admitted
and will be played.

But make it quick.

Everyone,

if you've never experienced
our State Theatre live,

then I can't teach you
anything about dramaturgy.

Don't miss
the opportunity.

With your permission, I'll head off then.
- Go ahead.

Well?

Anyone else?

I'd rather
stay here.

Me too.
- We're here to study.

To study.

As you can see,
the recording is very clear.

We therefore request criminal charges
for terrorist propaganda

and insulting our state.

The court rules:

The travel ban
against the defendant remains in force.

There is reasonable suspicion
of a serious offence.

In addition,
judicial supervision is ordered.

The request for criminal charges
will be considered at a later date.

Your mother called three times.
- She called me too. What happened?

I'll find out.

Hello, Mum?

They pulled new charges out of thin air
and the judge simply allowed them:

Terrorism
and insulting the state.

We're waiting
for further hearings.

I'm so sorry.

Tell me, what's happened?

Give it to me.

Mum, what happened?

What do you mean, she's not listening?

Okay, Mum.

We're coming.

What's going on?

We have to go back.
- What's happened? Where are you going?

Everyone, we're needed in Istanbul.
We have to go.

Oh, come on!

You can't be serious!
- We don't have any choice, Fiko.

But we hardly
ever see you anymore.

Aziz, I can go and you stay.
- No, no.

Fiko, please.

We're family,
but you're just never here.

Just let him go.
- Go where?

We were supposed to teach
in the park together tomorrow.

Your students
are looking forward to seeing you.

Okay, okay,
next time then.

That's not how it works. You have to
take responsibility too.

Isn't that right, everyone? Today
we could have ended up in prison.

You're exaggerating.
- No, I'm not.

We're raising a child,
and we're not going back for fun.

Then go.
I'm done talking.

You're talking nonsense.
- I'm talking nonsense?

Fine, I said nothing.
- Ezgi's struggling and my mother's alone.

I have to go to Istanbul, end of story.
Good night, everyone.

Fine. Good night.
We'll manage on our own.

Out of order!
- Out of order?

What rubbish!
What absolute nonsense.

Now we're
fighting among ourselves.

I wanted to talk to her.

"Stop going through my things!"
she shouted, then ran off.

She was gone for hours.

With whom? And where?
I was terrified.

We need to find
a place of our own soon.

That's your takeaway from all this?

Don't get me wrong,
it has nothing to do with you.

Okay, let's leave it.

I'll talk to her.

Open up, it's me.

Ezgi.

Look at me.
- Dad, just leave me alone.

Okay, here.

Light one up.

Let's have a smoke together.

What can I really say to you?
I smoke too.

And you're not a child anymore.
You understand everything.

Dad, your understanding attitude
is really annoying.

What do you expect?
That I should act like an authoritarian?

With rules, punishments,
and all that?

We want to protect you,
but I also want to be able to trust you.

She went through my bag.
- No one was going through your bag.

We understand why you're upset,
but Grandma was only looking for dirty laundry.

If I read your notebook,
you'd be angry too, wouldn't you?

Here.

Go ahead, have a look.

Some of the notes
are a bit free-associative.

My defence statement from today
is in there too, if you're interested.

I'm not.

Well,
I'll just leave it here.

DELETE POST

DELETE POST

Raşit, I don't know
what to say.

It was only an offer,
my dear.

And I stand by it.

Do we really
have to do this?

Do what?

These conversations.

We could
cut them short.

We both know
how this ends.

What are you trying to say?

I'll say, "You're suffocating me.
Can't you see that?"

Then you'll say, "It's not easy
having an affair like this."

Then I'll say, "Sorry, but that's
your problem, your responsibility.

Now you want to support me
because I'm ill,

but I don't want compassion
or pity."

Then you'll talk about your feelings, I won't
want to hear them, and we'll go round in circles.

Then you'll pull that sad face,
which I sometimes find sexy.

And then comes
your big moment.

You stand up and announce,
like some great philosopher:

"Yes, I think
a little distance would do us both good."

Then you pack your things
and just like that,

you walk away!
- Walk away? To where?

Cut.
You go back to your wife.

You were wonderful. Thank you, everyone.
- I thought she was about to eat me alive.

That's not how I'd imagined
the character at all,

but it's incredibly effective.
Thank you, Derya.

No, thank you.

When will you know?

When we'll know?

As soon as possible.
- We'll let you know very soon.

Great.
Derya, come with me.

Take care.
- Thank you. Bye.

Bye.
- See you soon.

It's not working.
- I'll fix it later.

Should she move around
while she's speaking?

Like yesterday.
- Like in the last rehearsal.

Then she sits here.

That way
it's less static.

Where have you been?
You weren't answering your phone.

I'm here now.

But we've all
been waiting.

I had something to do.
- Something to do?

Aziz, let's not argue.
I'm here now, okay?

Let's go.

No rush. Go grab a coffee first.
- No, thanks. Where are we?

"I'm waiting."

All right, we'll start with Act Three,
the monologue.

I'm waiting.

I've been waiting
for quite some time.

And I don't even know
what I'm waiting for.

But I'm waiting.

Perhaps you know:

Making someone wait
is a way of exercising power and control.

Making someone wait
is a tool of authoritarian regimes.

But...

when you don't know
what you're actually waiting for,

the uncertainty consumes you.
You drown in it.

And uncertainty is not only an authoritarian
method, but a totalitarian one.

What's wrong?

Aziz, I don't know.
- You don't know what?

Self-determination,
all well and good,

but it feels
self-indulgent.

It's too didactic:
"This is this, that is that."

I think we need
to rewrite the text.

Oh, come on, Derya.

Shall we take a short break?
- A break? We've only just started.

Excuse me.

Where are you going?

Where are you going,
Derya?

Is there something
you'd like to tell me?

Shall we go out for pizza tonight?
Ezgi would love that.

My mother's bought meat.
It'll only cause trouble.

As long as she's happy.
- Is something bothering you?

I've got a headache.
Probably my period.

All right, shall we
call it a day?

Who was on the phone?
- A friend.

A friend?
Very nice.

Do I have to justify myself?
- No.

I'm just wondering
why you're not fully committed.

Aziz, it's all getting too much. Can't the play
wait until our lives are back in order?

This is where we're putting
our lives back in order, Derya.
Don't embarrass us.

In front of whom?
- The people who've taken us in.

We have to pull together.
Otherwise Rojda was right.

Okay.
Forget it, Aziz.

I'm talking to you!

Enjoying your meal?
- Yes, but I don't eat meat anymore.

Those chops
cost a fortune.

All the more reason
not to eat meat.

There used to be a saying:
If there's meat in the house, there's no trouble.

Back then meat was precious.
- Sure, Dad.

I don't suppose
that's changed.

Derya,
you're not eating at all.

Mum's on a beer diet.
- Barley juice.

Thank you,
it's all delicious.

I was actually going to take you all out tonight,
but this will do just as well.

I have something
to tell you.

What is it?

Are you pregnant?
- Mum, please.

Me, a big sister.
- I'm too old for that.

Why? These days women can have children
even at fifty.

Anyway,
what I wanted to tell you is:

I have a new job.

What kind of job?

A TV series.
The lead role.

Really?

Go on,
we're listening.

I play a wealthy city woman
who owns an advertising agency:

"Garden of Eden."
That's the name of the series too.

She has affairs but nothing serious,
and she always speaks her mind.

Her father lives with her and always thinks
he's ill... What's the word again?

A hypochondriac.
- Exactly.

He keeps calling her,
so she gets a second phone.

And then?
- Well...

The director, Cemre Çiğdem,
is a talented young filmmaker, and the team is great.

You've already met the team?
When?

Over the past few days.
It all happened very quickly.

So that was the call today.
Why didn't you say anything?

I went to the audition,
but nothing was certain yet.

Which channel?
- Kanal K. We start next week.

Kanal K?

Is that why you want to postpone our play?
- Yes, or someone else can play my part.

Hang on.
Someone else?

Kanal K? Next week? Someone else?
Can you hear yourself?

It's a chance to finally take action.
- So now we're opportunists, are we?

That channel
slandered us.

This is about Ezgi's future.
If you can't understand that...

Future? You should ask yourself
what kind of society those shows portray.

The scripts are very progressive.
And fringe theatre can't support a family.

We're practically
living off you here.

My home is your home too.

No, Mum, it's your home
and we're guests.

What are they paying?

Sorry?
- She means your fee.

Enough to give us some breathing room
and pay for Ezgi's school.

I don't want to go to a private school.
- Mum, hadn't you offered to help?

With what?
- Ezgi's school.

I don't want the stupid school.
- Does your offer still stand?

That's very kind, but I want
to earn my own money.

You were the one
talking about self-determination.

You see, everyone has their price.
- Excuse me?

You heard me.
- What are you talking about?

Aziz, look at me.

You shut your eyes to reality.
Your obsession with art is out of touch and vain.

Mum, talk some sense into her.
- "Her"? You're calling me "her"?

Let's talk about this.
If she earns her own money, that's a good thing.

Money, money, money!
That's all anyone talks about.

That's exactly where they want us,
don't you understand?

I'm tired of resisting.

Are you a resistance fighter now
just because you clashed with the theatre?

I wish I hadn't bothered.
- Exactly.

But you have no right
to judge me.

They're out on the streets in Ankara
while you're here stroking your ego.

My ego? Shame on you!
- Friends tell each other the truth.

I'm not your friend.
If I'd known you could be bought...

Then what?

Finish the sentence.

Where are you going?

She's not answering.

It's all right.
They're probably together.

I really didn't mean for that to happen.
I'm sorry.

I'm on your side.

If you can earn your own money,
do it.

Hello?

Where are you, Aziz?

On my way to Baran's
to tell him we're pulling out.

I'll do that myself,
don't worry.

Is that why you're calling?
- Is Ezgi with you?

No, why?

I thought she'd followed you.
- Have you called her?

Several times.
We can't reach her or her friends.

Where could she be, Derya?
- I don't know.

Maybe she's at your brother's?
- Why would she be there?

Never mind, I'm coming back.
See you soon.

Nothing.

Where could she be?

Let's go to the police.

Should I come?
- Stay here in case she comes back.

Hello?
- Hi, brother.

What's wrong, Derya?
- Are you asleep?

No, we're awake.
- I don't want to disturb you.

Don't be silly, what's wrong?
- We've got a bit of a crisis.

What do you mean?
- Is Ezgi there by any chance?

Ezgi? No.

Okay, thanks.
- What's going on?

I have to go. I'll call you later.
- It's the middle of the night. Hello?

Not there either? Where can she be?
The streets are full of lowlifes at night.

Well, there is this boy.
- What boy?

The one she's been seeing.
- What are you talking about, Derya?

Our daughter's boyfriend, Aziz.
- Great, you tell me now? Who is he?

İso or İsmail.
From school.

They play guitar together.
She said nothing was going on.

Didn't you ask who he was,
what his parents do, where he lives?

I did, but she wouldn't tell me anything.
- You're both driving me crazy.

In my own family,
I'm the odd one out.

You don't exactly
treat us any differently.

What's that supposed to mean?
- You're either in the taxi or at the theatre.

When did you last spend time with Ezgi?
Study with her or do something together?

I make her sandwiches
every morning.

Which she gives to other kids.
Did you know that?

She's tired of eating the same thing every day
and asks me for money.

And you're only telling me this now?

I've been waiting. But if it were up to you,
we'd still be living with your mother in ten years.

What do you expect from me?
Nothing I do is ever good enough for you.

Take responsibility.
- Responsibility?

My greatest responsibility
is to set an example for my child,

without compromising my principles.
- Compromising your principles?

Do I need your permission to work?
What century are you living in?

Permission?
You're presenting me with a fait accompli.

Exactly,
and you have to accept it.

Writing pseudo-feminist plays isn't enough.
You have to live by those ideas.

Stop twisting things! We both know
what kind of shitty channel you'll be working for.

Of course I know.
Do you think you're the only clever one here?

You're ethically bankrupt.

Ethics? Now you're lecturing me about ethics?
At least I know why I'm doing it.

What am I supposed to do,
rot away in that tiny theatre?

So a few pseudo-intellectuals
can play at revolution?

In two sentences, you dismiss
everything we've worked on for years.

And you think you can save the world
with theatre.

You're chasing empty dreams.
- Then stop chasing them with me.

Ezgi is missing
because of those "friends" at that school.

Do whatever you want,
but don't lecture me about right and wrong.

You're the one who brought up ethics.
And you're the one who's always judging.

Understood?

Our entire life
revolves around you.

Aziz's mother bought meat,
so sit down and eat.

Defend Aziz's play
and lose your job.

Go to Aziz's hearing
and get nothing out of it.

Aziz writes something,
so stand ready.

Then don't. I should never have written
a single word for someone so ungrateful.

Exactly. I don't owe you anything.
Play the role yourself.

You're forgetting where you came from.
- Am I?

I created you!
Without me, you'd be nobody.

I made you
an actress!

Fine.

You created me.
I'm nobody.

Now go to the police.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.
- Yes?

Good evening.
- Good evening.

We're looking for our daughter.
She hasn't come home.

We can't reach her
and we're worried.

When did you
last see her?

Three hours ago.
- Okay, this way.

We do have
a missing-person procedure,

but it's only been
a few hours.

A search like that
doesn't begin until after 24 hours.

So what can we do now?

I'm afraid
you'll have to wait.

Wait? I don't understand.
Wait for what?

Our fourteen-year-old is out there alone.
What are we waiting for?

Our system is...
- What am I supposed to wait for?

For them to find her body?
- If you cause trouble...

I'm looking for my daughter.
- Calm down, let me speak.

Here, it's your mother.
Answer it.

Hello, Mum.
Is Ezgi back?

No.
We're at the police station.

Can we leave her name and a photo?
- If you like.

There's no need to get upset.
We're only doing our job.

Ezgi Firuze Tufan.

Could you do me a favour?

Could you give us the address
of İsmail Karacabaş?

İsmail Karacabaş?

Even if I had it, I wouldn't be allowed
to give it out. I'm sorry.

İsmail Karacabaş?

Let's go.

Call your brother.

Why should I?

Fine, I'll do it.

Hello, Salih.

We went to the police,
but there's still no news of Ezgi.

That police chief you know,
could he possibly get us an address?

Good evening.
- Good evening.

Were you able to ask him?

Yes. It's late,
but he made a few calls.

You're in luck. There are only
three İsmail Karacabaşes in all of Istanbul.

One is 55,
one is 34 and one is 23.

Twenty-three?

Would you prefer 55?

Ezgi said he was one year older.
- And you believed that?

What else was I supposed to do?
Assume she was lying?

Do we have the address of the 23-year-old?
- Twenty-three, 34 or 55. Take your pick.

Drive.

Turn right up ahead.

Right, right.

This must be it.

You go.
I'll wait here.

Otherwise I can't be held
responsible for what I do.

This should be it.

Is İsmail Karacabaş here?

İso?

Yes?
- Are you İsmail?

Hey, what's this about?

Ezgi?

Well, are you all right?

Listen,

if you're hiding Ezgi from us,
you'll regret it.

Nothing.
She's not here.

We're just hanging out...
- Shut up.

Not another word.

Get up.
We're going home.

You're lucky I don't kill you.
- She just showed up...

Shut your mouth.

I'll kill you.
You should have called us.

You dishonourable dog.

Get out of here.

Stop crying.
- Aziz, that's enough.

How did it
come to this...

Get in.

You're already
just like my brother.

Underwear.

Listen, handsome,
if you talk to me like that, we'll have trouble.

What is this about?
Helping someone or playing power games?

So what?
What don't you like about it?

That I'm no longer part of it.

The part you played
is the easiest one to replace.

Wow.
- Exactly, wow.

Bingo. Cut.

Lunch break, everyone.
Enjoy your meal.

Ms Derya, your lunch is in the trailer.
- Thank you, Şafak.

Thank you.

Welcome.

How are you?
- Good, and you?

Great, thanks.
And you?

We're getting by, Mum.

Are you hungry? Let's eat something.
- No, I still have to return the taxi.

Here.
See you next week then.

Stay a little longer
and eat with us.

Come on.

This is really good.

They really make an effort.

You're not eating, Aziz.
- I'm not hungry, thanks.

What time do you finish today?
- In about two hours.

Cemre moved me up
so I wouldn't have to wait.

And you?

I'll return the car
and then go back to saving the world.

You can do it.

The reviews are good, aren't they?

Reviews?

For "Yellow Letters."

They especially like
the metal detector scene, right?

And your ratings?
- Good. It's doing well.

But the competition
isn't standing still either.

Mum, what is the director
holding up to her eye?

What do you mean?

That thing. She looks through it
and then talks to the camera operator.

Come on,
I'll introduce you.

I need to get my wig fixed.
It's not sitting quite right.

And you?

Can I stay here a bit longer?
- Of course.

Make yourself comfortable.

Subtitle copyright: Way Film GmbH

Subtitles by Danja Prahl and Gerrit Haas