Shot and edited with advertising esthetics, Kemal Uzun’s “Vay Arkadaş” comes to the screens as an amicable comedy of errors full of contemporary İstanbul slang and vernacular — its only setback being that it was released on the same date as Mahsun Kırmızıgül’s “New York’ta Beş Minare” (Five Minarets in New York).
Uzun’s film does indeed carry some of the over-the-top burlesque elements adopted by Turkish comedies; however, it’s an admirable effort in that it tries to incorporate an intelligible plot — something that is usually lacking in recent action-comedy releases. In fact, at times I was reminded of Guy Ritchie’s “Snatch” as I found myself laughing at some of the absurdly philosophical dialogues and the preposterous operatic sensibilities of the action scenes.
Manik (Ali Atay), Dildo (Mete Horozoğlu) and Tik (Fırat Tanış) are three lifelong friends and flat mates who get away with small misdemeanors as they hang out and enjoy their life in İstanbul. As you can imagine, their names have much to do with their personality traits: Manik is a cantankerous manic depressive who’s ready to explode at any time; Dildo (yeah, dildo) is an unstoppable womanizer of the slimy sort; and Tik, who is the nicest and calmest of them all, suffers from an uncountable range of tics that prevent him from engaging in decent conversations with the opposite sex.
When Dildo’s father becomes fatally ill and only able to recover through an expensive operation, the trio decides to somehow find the money to finance the man’s operation. They decide that the best method for quick cash is stealing fancy cars — of course they only realize later what they’re in for.
Two of the cars they steal turn out to belong to two rival mafia families. One of the cars has 15 kilograms of cocaine and the other car a dead body. The final car, turns out, belongs to the daughter of the İstanbul police chief. Dildo insists that they try to sell the cocaine and become millionaires, and from that point on these three likable dimwits find themselves in a vortex of trouble leading to the head mafia guy, Sadık (Mustafa Üstündağ), who is quite the character — he kills his victims with volumes of the “Psychological Disorders” encyclopedia and quotes proverbs to engage in any kind of conversation. And of course there’s Nil (Demet Evgar), the daughter of the police chief, who definitely sheds a new light on Turkish female characters — she’s a downright tomboy ready for a confrontation and fight at any time of the day.
Though the friendship and quirky characters of the lead trio have their charm, sometimes the quirky bits outrun their screen time for the sake of gathering chuckles. The main forte of the film lies in the ingenious and implausible incidents and misunderstandings — i.e., when Manik plasters the cocaine on the wall as paint to not be caught by the police, or when a misunderstanding between Nil and Dildo leaves us laughing at an almost nude Dildo. I’m glad someone took the time to actually write the screenplay rather than expect the audience to laugh at the usual stereotypes.
The film is made out of a hustle and bustle of shots that manage to keep up a good rhythm. The city is shot with a keen sense of aesthetics and good use of locations. When you’re making a comedy of urban sensibilities, it really does work on your behalf to use the patterns and authenticities of the urban fabric — something that is usually avoided in other Turkish films as they lock us into meaningless interiors and bad lighting.
“Vay Arkadaş” defines itself to be the right kind of popcorn weaved with stylish filmmaking; perhaps there’s a bit too much of an inclination of trying to be “hip,” but at least you’ve got a comedy that steers away from the crass and moves towards wit.
The film might just have opened a few doors for a new understanding of Turkish comedy — one that is neither a sloppy amalgamation of fart jokes nor a derivative of the Cem Yılmaz humor monopoly.