All language subtitles for Future.Lasts.Forever.2011.TURKISH.1080p.WEBRip.x264-VXT.eng

"If one day the war ends,
then we'll have to ask ourselves

what will we do with the dead,
what did they die for?" Cesare Pavese

FUTURE LASTS FOREVER

Looks good on you.

It's your mother's handiwork,
of course it looks good.

You're sure you didn't steal it
from your mother's chest?

This is for you.

What's this?

Why are you giving this to me?

I don't know, just felt like it.

Don't open it now.

Read it later.

Dear Sumru...

I hope you'll understand me...

and won't be mad at me
for leaving like this.

However, I had no other choice.

This was the best thing to do.

If I had told you...

it would have been so hard for me.

I guess, we won't see
each other again...

but one never loses hope.

After all, isn't it too hard to
live without hope?

How I wish to just appear...

out of nowhere some day...

when you least
expect to see me.

Let us now make a promise and have
faith to see sunny and beautiful days.

When that day arrives, we'll walk
towards the future...

on the shores of Siyasümbül Lake,
the playground of my childhood...

the place we always
wanted to see together.

We will walk, not in a future
we don't know much about...

but in a future that
started long ago...

a future that bears our names.

With all my heart...
Your lover from the mountain.

PS...

I made two copies of this only photo
in which we are to gather.

I am taking one with me,
and I leave the other one for you...

along with one of my favourite
poems, Voznesensky's "Oza."

Attention passengers, the Southeast
Express coming to Diyarbakır...

from Istanbul, Ankara, and
Malatya has arrived in Platform 1.

Attention passengers,
the commuter train from Diyarbakır...

to Batman departs from
Platform 3 at 11:15.

What's that mom...

Mom

there's no need
to be concerned.

Don't worry!
Istanbul is no safer than here...

if not more dangerous.

Forget about what
you hear on TV.

Bombs aren't
exploding everywhere!

Alright, mom,
I have to go now.

Frankly, Sumru, I've never heard
anyone doing what you do.

So, you go to different
regions and collect elegies.

Well, we've got
plenty of those here...

You sure came to the
right place Sumru.

Ask any soul, and you'll
hear a thousand elegies.

So in a way, you are kind of dealing
with people who have troubles, right?

Kind of, yeah.

Won't you stay with us Sumru?
We have plenty of room.

Thanks, Leyla, but
I do some work at night...

Don't worry,
it's better this way.

When Kemal said you were going
to rent a place in that neighborhood...

Well, I was really surprised.

We keep away
from all that looks old and poor.

But I guess that's exactly
what draws you. Oh, well.

Ah, look who came.

Mom read me
the Şenge-Benge story.

Of course, my dear,
my little angel.

- What's she saying?
- She wants me to read a story.

Cute little thing.

I'll put her to sleep.

- All right.
- Okay.

Come on. Good night.

Nighty-night

The survey
we conducted in April...

was carried out in nearly
4500 residences.

The research was mainly
interested in questioning...

and underlying
poverty and migration.

And by that, we mean
migration to this city...

in the last three decades.

After migrating to the city...

All right ladies, I'll be back
in a second. Okay.

- Hi, may I help you?
- Hello.

I wanted to ask something.

I'm doing a research,
and I was wondering...

if I could talk
with the women who come here.

You must be the girl
who came with Leyla.

Yes, yes, I am.

Welcome, let's move into
the room. We can talk there.

July 25, 2008.

Field interviews with
Laz women in Topluca...

Masalavat Village of Çamlıhemşin
County, Rize Province.

Note...

It's foggy and rainy as always.

In other words, as the locals say,
this is the month of rotting.

I don't know why,
but I've been restless for a while.

Harun's been gone for 7 months.

I haven't heard from him at all.

I'm sorry, but
I don't understand.

Well, neither do I.

- So, what are you doing?
- I'm recording.

- Okay, good luck with that.
- Thanks, good luck to you.

I can't see.

I cried so much that
my eyes got cloudy.

The dawn was breaking.
It was around 8:00 am.

Soldiers surrounded us.

It was snowing heavily.

They said we had an hour.

To clear the houses.

They said that after one hour...

they'd start burning
the houses down.

We were shocked...

what can we take
out in one hour?

We took out supplies and...

put them under the almond tree.

They got wet, too.

We just wanted to save our lives.

Our belongings,
our cattle and sheep...

were all left inside.

My daughter-in-law...

had a three-day old baby.

We said, let's get the
baby and others out.

- First, they set the house on fire from the inside.
- What is she saying?

Our beds,
all our belongings burned.

The barn was right
next to the house.

We couldn't save the animals.

The soldiers didn't let
us move a muscle.

They were right in front of us...

they all burned.

The animals shrieked in terror.

They took my husband, Mustafa,
and five other young men.

And four old men.

They took them
to the village of Sise...

...where that gun battle
was taking place.

They left the old men there...

and took the boys to Lice.

They were taken to
the boarding school.

They held them
there for three days.

Then, they let them go,
and asked if anyone...

anyone from their group was missing.
One of them was missing.

They asked who.
It was Mustafa Bulut.

Can these incidents ever be forgotten?
No, never.

Fahri is not the only one.

None of these can be forgotten.
Look at him...

he was no more than 25 years old.
He was my friend.

How could they
take these boys?

Fahri, my husband.
He was 7 years older than me.

He was 31.

They were blindfolded
and dragged behind the armored...

personnel carrier from
village to village.

They were later taken to Lice.

Someone saw that they were
dressed in military uniforms...

and taken on board a helicopter.

Taken to Kulp.

We looked for them
a very long time...

they weren't to be found.

We went to the district attorney,
they didn't even let us see him.

They kicked us out.
They didn't let us have the bodies.

No matter how
much we petitioned...

...the DA of Lice did
not accept our pleas.

We had learned that they were
held alive in Lice for seven days.

Some said they were taken here.
Others said they were taken elsewhere.

Finally, the three bodies turned up in Kulp.
Ekrem, Ramazan, Ali.

Ekrem and Ramazan were Fahri's
brothers. They were my in-laws.

This is not something
that can be forgotten.

If they don't answer us today...

they will answer to our children,
or to our grandchildren.

But we will never forget it.

I walk around in the house,
with their pictures on the wall.

I still think there are
five men in the house.

I come and go. I try to ease
my pain with a piece of paper.

If this is 'Justice',
we won't accept it.

Turkey has a minister of justice.
There are laws.

If there are laws...

we want the bones
that belong to us.

They have to tell us
where Fahri and Mustafa were killed.

We want their remains.

What are you doing up on the
roof in the morning like a cat?

Hey!

September 23, 2010, Diyarbakır.

Sounds of the city
from Amed Square.

Could you lower
the volume please?

Hello, is this Ahmet?

Hi, my name is Sumru.

I took your number from Helin
who works at the...

Mesopotamia Center for People
Who Lost Their Relatives.

I wish to talk about
your video recordings.

- Yes, ma'am?
- I was looking for Ahmet.

Ahmet will be back in
a couple of minutes.

Okay, thank you.

CINAMED, Ahmet Doğan, A Representative
of the Cinematheque in Diyarbakır

- Hi.
- Hi.

- I'm Ahmet.
- Sumru.

Are you looking for
anything special?

- 'They Shoot Horses, Don't They?'
Do you have it? - Nope, I'm fresh out.

OK. Thanks.

- Let's have some tea.
- Alright.

No, thanks.

I'm sorry, but I couldn't
quite understand...

on the phone yesterday.
What is it you do again?

I'm doing research in music.

So, you're an ethnomusicologist.

That's right.

What do you play?

I don't play an instrument.
I collect elegies.

And that's why I need
your help actually.

I understand that you did
some amateur recordings in the past.

With relatives of people
murdered by unknown assailants.

How did you come up
with this idea to collect elegies?

It's for my thesis.

Kurds are now a sociological topic
of interest, eh? Well, I'll be damned!

- Excuse me?
- Don't mind me, I'm just blabbering.

Actually, I gave those videos away.
Let me ask my friends about them.

If I can find the videos
I'll let you know.

Alright, thanks.

Off I go.
You're a guest

Call me if you need anything.

Ahmet, enough already.
You're killing me here.

If you want me gone,
just say so.

I mean, this is torture.

Ahmet, who was that?

Didn't you recognize him, Kuto?

Okay, now I recognize him.
He was that great socialist.

- Hi!
- Hello.

- Is upstairs open?
- It's open.

- You may go
- Okay.

As you can see,
the memory center...

has a name,
but that's all it has.

It's more like a cassette
storage center.

Yeah, this will
be a lot of work.

Well, you are in for it,
that's for sure.

Don't you mean,
'we' are in for it.

By 1992...

they devised a particular
way of killing Kurds...

called 'murder
by unknown assailants.'

Hundreds of Kurds were killed,
and the murderers were never found.

This is massacre.

What will be presented
in the future to the...

...commission assigned
to investigate the truth?

- As a matter of fact, these recordings
are very important! -Yes, you're right.

And these are the
recordings we made.

I heard you are headed to
Hakkari after Ankara.

What if you are taken
into custody again?

- Surp Gıragos Armenian Church
- Diyarbakır

What do you want kids, eh?

Didn't I tell you not to come before
11:00 a.m. on Sunday mornings?

- Good morning.
- I thought it was the kids.

- I just wanted to see the place.
- Come on, come inside, yes.

You look a little like our girls.

I don't know, do I?

- Do you speak Armenian?
- A little.

I can speak Homshetsi.

Where do your parents live?

In Istanbul or in Artvin?

My mom lives in Hopa.

My dad passed away
ten years ago.

Any brothers or sisters?

I have a sister.

Did you come here by yourself?

I came by myself.

Oh, this wicked world...

I'm here all by myself now.

Just like you, all alone.

Hi.

You seem to have discovered
this place quite quickly.

In fact, you can't tell

it's a place like this
from the outside.

Better that way.

What were you going to do?

Came here to read.

Baran, bring me a tea, will you.

- That's a beautiful name.
- What, Baran?

Sometimes we do screenings
at the weekend here.

- We have a good time.
- How nice.

Do you think you can use
these recordings in movies?

I'm not sure,
but I guess you could.

- May I take a look?
- Sure.

- Would you like to listen?
- Yes, I would.

- What does it use to store data?
- An MD.

What's on it now?

Atmospheric sounds,
noises made by the blacksmiths...

In that case, I'll pass.

I wake up to that every morning.

- Alright then, here's something else.
- Okay.

Oh, Ahmet,
check out the babe!

What's she got in her hand?

It's a sound recorder.

My, my,
she looks just like those

...characters from the
movies you watch!

- You're definitely right about that Kuto!
- What if she's JITEM, covert ops?

You know,
like in Lisbon Story!

A little Mastroianni, Belmondo
or even better, De Niro?

Look at that mug!

You see a girl from Istanbul,
and suddenly, you think you're hot shit!

But you ain't shit, my friend.

- Listen to this.
- Alright.

- Who is this?
- Forugh Farrokhzad.

Really?

- Where did you find this?
- Let's just say I'm resourceful.

'Maybe life is the
street a woman...

...walks down with
a basket in her hand...

maybe life is the rope a man hangs
himself with on a branch...

maybe life is the child
returning home from school.'

Sumru...

tell me please, how did you
end up collecting elegies?

All my life...

I had a curious
relationship with sound.

I can easily say that encounters with
sounds have pretty much shaped my life.

It all started when,
at the age of five,

I accidentally erased
my grandma's voice.

She didn't even have
a single picture, you know...

When I was in junior high

I started getting interested in sound
systems and recording equipment...

How childish of me...

Later...

Later, in high school,
just as I was going through...

that period of not
having a clue about life.

I kept bumping into...

"Elegies"
by Yaşar Kemal in the library.

The line...

'I wish, all the folk elegies
in all the tongues

of Anatolia were recorded
in their own voices.'

pretty much became
my motto in life.

Well, at least for the
last 3 years of my life.

Then...

one day, I was late
to class on campus.

I was running like
crazy not to miss it.

I heard a voice.

I was really curious about
the owner of the voice.

A trembling voice was
reading a statement.

I couldn't take another step...

Take up arms,
or clear out the village.

After the villagers were pressured
like this two or three times...

and if they still resisted
taking up arms...

they were forced
to leave the village.

Nobody wanted to
become village guards.

In the fifth month 1994...

on the morning of 27th,
soldiers came.

Approximately 1000 or 1500
soldiers surrounded the village.

The soldiers started
raiding the houses.

They took my father and uncle
along with six other villagers.

There's a Boarding
Regional Command in Lice...

...which is actually
a boarding school.

A school that co-exists
with military presence.

That's where they were taken.

When we went there,
we were told that they were released.

We asked the students
around the school.

They said they were
flown away in a helicopter.

They were taken aboard blindfolded.

I believe it was after three or
four days that we received news.

Two men had been thrown out
the helicopter on Bingol Mountain.

Everyone thought it was
my father and uncle.

So, naturally, we went there
with the villagers, but it wasn't them.

A week later...

- What did you see there?
- We saw two bodies.

Their hands were tied, and
they were blindfolded.

They were shot in the
head with one bullet.

That's what we saw.

After a week...

We were told that two
bodies were found

in the pit that's just
outside our village.

So, we went there, too.

We saw again that the bodies
were tied and blindfolded.

They weren't my father and uncle.

Their father was
taken on April 27th...

and my son on May 27th.

He was taken on Thursday,
and my son on Friday.

My son was taken twenty-seven
days after his father was taken.

My son was in the melon field.
He was watering the field.

He had one shoe on his feet
when they took him.

Soldiers surrounded him...

and wrapped the keffiyeh
around his head.

He had a visual impairment.

He was handicapped.

He couldn't see the soldiers
shouting at him very well.

They wrapped the keffiyeh around
his head and made him walk around.

Later, we found his other shoe
in the mountain.

They were dragging him. He tried holding
onto the ground and his hands bled.

We cannot get rid of this pain inside.

They took three people
alive from the house.

I wonder what they did.

The father...

my son and my in-law.

This here is my older brother,
Çayan Çiçek.

This is my father,
Tahsin Çiçek.

And this is my uncle,
Ali İhsan Çiçek.

I am a Turk...

honest

and hardworking.

I bestow...

my existence...

to the Turkish existence.

How happy is the one...

who says, "I am a Turk."

- Your coffee is getting cold.
- Okay, thanks.

How did you get so
involved in movies?

One day, on the campus...

my friend said...

they were starting a movie club,
but they were short one guy.

- Next thing I know, I was in love with movies.
- What were you studying?

Philosophy, in Dicle University.

You know how it was
in the mid 90s.

Fast times.

No one attended class.

No one cared about
school then.

It was as if everyone
was waiting for...

...their turn to join the
guerillas in the mountains.

I felt stuck in between
the same choices...

so I chose Istanbul instead.

I worked on construction sites,
painted walls, worked at bookstores.

It was going nowhere.

So, I went to Silvan
to live with my mother.

But that didn't last long either.

And, here I am.

Can't even make a short film
out of this story, can you?

Do you like this poet?

Andrei Voznesensky.
Very much so.

"How terrible it is to think
of you alone, by myself...

it's even worse if you're
not alone, by yourself."

1995...

villages burned in Hakkari.

B-1992.

Soldiers got into a skirmish
with the guerillas.

Seven guerillas died
in the armed clashes.

They were all dragged behind the armored
carrier and brought into the village.

Villagers were
asked to identify...

...their children or
relatives amongst them.

Maybe they knew some of them,
but no one claimed the bodies.

They ran the armored vehicle
over the corpses.

They took away the bodies
with an excavator...

and threw them all
down into a pit.

We collected the bodies of two young
men from our neighbor village.

The college student from the neighboring
village had a picture in his pocket.

- Which village are you from?
- Siyasümbül Village.

"Another civilian killed in Silvan."

We were recruited into
JITEM as civil servants.

As time passed, we realized that they
were making us do their dirty work.

They said we took them there,

to a village,
and executed them there.

We went there, we opened up the
grave and saw four bodies in it.

Our battalion
commander said that...

no one claimed these bodies.

How were we suppose
to deal with them?

They made us burn
the terrorists with gas.

We burned and threw
them into the trash.

Dogs came, dug up the soil...

and started eating
from the corpses.

Abdülkerim Kırca,
he did this right in front of us...

somewhere between
Silvan and Diyarbakır...

he shot Vedat Aydın's
relative Necati Aydın...

in the back of his head...

execution style.

The child, as a child...

swung his arms
as he walked.

He wanted the brook
to turn into a river...

and the river into a flood.

And he wanted this
pool to be the sea.

The child, as a child...

didn't know...

he was a child.

All was full of life.

And all life was one.

The child, as a child...

I want to ask you something.

That revolutionist
young man whose...

...voice once stopped
you in your tracks...

What's he doing now?

What was his name?

Harun.

Or is he the real reason
behind this journey?

Where was he from?

Hakkari.

Where is he now?

How long has it been since he left?

Three years.

Old Ante's got a letter.

He was sleeping,
so I didn't want to wake him up.

Uncle Antranik...

why didn't you go to Switzerland
to live with your daughters?

I can't leave.

If I go, these places will
become desolate.

Their bones are lying
under this ground.

How can I leave?

Have you ever heard...

recorded an elegy your mother,
or your wife Surpuhi, sang?

An elegy...

The year Zovinar got married...

she sang an elegy
in the church courtyard.

They recorded it,
but I don't have it.

No, they must have
taken it with them.

No, it's not here.

Ahmet, don't you have
something I can watch?

Kuto, don't you have things to do?
Why don't you go home?

Well, I'm kind of like you.
I can't sleep at night.

I lie down with
eyes wide open.

So, what's the story
between you and that girl?

Did you split up or
are you together?

I'm about to smash this glass
right on your forehead!

I'd see someone coming
down the street...

or hear a voice,
and I'd run to the window...

thinking that someone got
some sort of news for me.

That dream kept me alive.
That dream made life bearable.

But it never happened.

I want him to have a grave.

I already know they killed him...

burned him,
threw him away...

but I still want his bones.

I want to be able to tell
my daughter where her father lies.

Holidays come and go.

Everyone visits the cemetery.

This is a human being,
a missing person.

You look at those
pictures every day.

And who are you looking for?

Ahmet, can I ask you something?

Can you come with me to
Hakkari for a couple of days?

Hakkari?

I don't know. That region is
a bit chaotic these days, you know...

Never mind. I can manage.

Sumru, don't take me wrong, it's not
that I think about myself or anything.

Really, it's okay.

- Off I go.
- Alright.

- See you later.
- See you.

The autumn is gone...

and now the winter
is here, my girl.

How are you Uncle Anto?

I'm doing okay...

I guess.

Actually, I found something.

And I was looking
forward to your arrival.

This is my mother's voice.

The year is 1915,
the time of the genocide.

Before I was born.

She is lamenting for
my brother Hampo...

who died during displacement.

She sang this elegy
more and more...

as the years passed.

Hi, Ahmet.

Hi.

I wanted to call before I leave.

I'm leaving tomorrow.

- You're really determined, ha?
- Yes.

Thanks for everything Ahmet.

In case we don't see each
other again, take care.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

The tension that began
in the past summer months...

when a road mine detonated as a village
minibus headed to Geçitli Village of Hakkari

passed near a mine, escalated
when a military operation carried out

in the Hakkari region in the last few days
ended with the death of five PKK guerrillas.

Tens of thousands of people, who took
the bodies of the five PKK guerrillas

from the morgue of Hakkari State Hospital,
marched to the county cemetery.

After the PKK guerrilas were buried

shop owners in the county
closed up for the day.

I don't want the road to ever end.

I wish we could be on the road forever.

I feel worn out.

When I was a kid, I always wanted to go
on a journey like this with my dad.

Why didn't you?
Never had the chance?

He was killed.

I didn't know.

What did your father used to do?

He was a truck driver.

When I grew up,
I was going to take the wheel.

He was going to sit next to me and tell me
of the places he saw with his truck.

Where did he go mostly?

To Iran, Tehran, Tabriz.

Sometimes, in winter,
he wouldn't return for 15 days.

I'd be happy to get the
opportunity to do as I please.

Silly me...

How did it happen?

I was 14, a ninth grader.

One day, we left school
with my friends.

Just as we were trying to decide between
playing billiards or going by the river...

a friend of ours yelled
across the street...

that someone had been
shot in the neighborhood.

Back then, everything
was an adventure for us.

We all started running.

Then, we came to a backstreet.

When I saw my mother
and sister among the crowd

I started running faster.

I swear it was the longest
run of my life.

Suddenly, I saw a man...

lying in blood on the ground.
He was shot in the back.

Once, they threw a young kid,
while he was alive, into a hay conditioner.

Scumbags.

Hello, IDs.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- How are you? Good?
- Thank you, thanks for asking.

Welcome.

Please, sit.
Where are you coming from?

- From Diyarbakır.
- Welcome.

Where is the reeve?

He went out to the reed bed.
He is reaping.

Soldiers got into a skirmish
with the guerrillas.

The bodies of guerrillas
were brought into the village

The officer told us to gather
all the horses and rideable animals.

Yes, I know the voice.
That's our Musa alright.

The commander told us to bring
all the horses into the courtyard.

I couldn't fathom what
he wanted to do.

This was something even
the devil couldn't think of.

He closed the gate.

The animals looked as if
they had sensed their fate.

The sounds of gunshots and
their neighing filled the air.

I collapsed by the wall.

At one point,
I had to look away.

By the time I turned my face
again to see what was happening...

the horses seemed
to have gone mad.

One of the horses jumped
over the wall and escaped.

In the midst of all the gunshots
and confusion...

he ran out of the
village to freedom.

When that horse got free...

we felt as if we were
freed with him.

Sumru.

Would you mind if I opened
the window for a smoke?

Will you light me one, too?

What are you thinking?

I was just thinking who
"The Wretched of the Earth" really is.

What about you?

I'm wondering what will happen
in this country in the next 25 years.

I can tell you.

What will happen or
what I'd want to happen?

Which movie is that line from?

This movie hasn't been made yet.

25 years later maybe we'll...

climb on the city
walls in Benusen.

But we'll be a little older.

You and I can ride our bicycles all along
the Black Sea coast in full circle.

We'll drink chacha in Batumi
and listen to sad Georgian songs.

I'll take you to Mayakovsky's
house in Soyim.

We'll read stories from
doctor Chekov in Yalta.

"Lets drink and address
each other informally."

We'll drink vodka on the
Moscow-Petruşki train.

In Varna, we'll say, 'I'm shouting
from the opposite shore...

Can you hear me Mehmet, Mehmet?'
and think of Nazım.

Then, we'll spread the
world map out, close our eyes...

and we'll randomly
place a finger on the map.

And we'll go there.

Then, maybe I'll go into politics.

But all I'll ever let myself be
is the minister of transportation.

I'll weave the whole
nation with railroads.

And not just from west to east.
But from east to the Black Sea...

and from the Black Sea
to the Mediterranean, long railroads.

Then, we'll found institutes...

in every region about
the tongues and...

cultures that faced extinction.

Then, then...

maybe everything
will be different.

Then, working hours will
be reduced to 5 hours a day.

Then, they will set up research
committees to investigate the truth...

about this state of conflict we have been
living in for the past three decades.

Then...

There are so many
'thens', aren't there?