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  1. EAUFC has been really kind these days so another story translated by them for all of you. @Def Leppard would be looking forward to another musing by you. I missed them as much as I missed Engin on screen. BECAUSE OF ME | By Engin Akyurek[Translated by Engin Akyurek Universal Fans Club]Plunged in sleep, I was wandering around among unknown faces at unknown places. Recently, my body squeezed between the bed sheet and the quilt has been often stopping by at this environment with incense aroma that was called “dream”. With “stopping by”, I meant remembering everything in the morning and designing dreams with technical competence. Praise be; my dreams have been running like a clockwork for the last two weeks. The sweetest part of my sleep was the moment I realized I was dreaming and doubtfully thought whether it was real. Maybe what I saw in my dream was the purest aspect of the world whom I thought real. I didn’t like the dreams swimming in shallow waters. A dream should spring from subconscious and it shouldn’t be enslaved by daily pictures or current issues. Sleep’s being pestered and molested by daily events was in a way related to unquiet mind and a mouth that talked all day when awake and that kept talking in sleep as well. These short-lived dreams kept a sleeper busy with a blurred photograph frame after his/her morning ablutions. My sleep and my dream, tangled with each other, have taken possession of my body as if they created each other. I was walking in a forest and calmly striding without knowing where I was going. I didn’t know whether it was either a rain forest or a tropical forest or the combination of visuals I stole from documentaries but I was logically trying to explore its location whom I didn’t know. I couldn’t figure out whether it was day or night since I couldn’t see the sky because of the magnificently tall trees. The rays of light penetrating through trees made me feel like it wasn’t night. It would have been nice to let myself in this forest if I didn’t know it was a dream. I guess the dreams allowed us to feel the adrenaline and the excitement which we couldn’t do in real life. So, was I going to wander around among the trees? There was neither a sound nor any sign of the recovery of the repressed feelings inside me.The sound coming from green grasses matched the sound of my breathing. I was feeling my breath and trying to feel the fresh air filling my lungs as if I hadn’t been breathing for a long time. Something very fresh was traveling through my body and neither its taste nor its smell was resembled the oxygen that we needed to live. My nose could smell all the smells and my cells didn’t want to release the air that I breathed in. I sped up and stepped harder on green grasses to suppress the sound of my breath. My inside was dancing incessantly as if I was at a wedding. I wanted to keep dancing from where I left off when I woke up. My nose, my eyes, my lips had been exploring themselves once again. All the shades of green were before my eyes. The leaves sassily were touching each other, which I attributed to the slowly blowing wind. The wind got stronger and I began to see different shades of green through the branches. A whispering sound was hiding right behind me, suppressing the sound of my breath. First, I saw the shadow of the sound. If I just turned back, I could have seen the source of the sound. The shadow acted before me and moved in front of me to face me. And I saw the most beautiful fox that I had ever seen. Its hair, its ears, its color… It was like it was made of plush. I had chosen a nice fox from the photograph archive of my subconscious. We were staring each other. The fox sat on his butt and moved his mouth hidden under his long nose. - HelloOh my God, the fox talked! If I didn’t know that I was dreaming, I could lose my mind in my dream and could walk with a funnel (1) on my head in the morning. - Hello fox.- Welcome, I’ve been waiting for you.- Waiting for me?- For a long time.I wondered even in my dream; why would a talking fox wait for me?- Fox, what do you expect from me?- Do you have to say “fox” every time you say something?- But I don’t know your name.- That is not important. Names are valid where you come from.- What is this place?- A big forest, a real place where you can find everything.- Everything I want?- It’s enough if you just find yourself.I knew that foxes were smart, and they fooled crows, but I didn’t know that they were grumpy and wise.- One can never fool a crow. Whoever made it up, it is a big lie.He could read my mind. Could I read what was going on in his mind?- Can I ask you why you’ve been waiting for me?- I will show you soon.What did he mean when it said, “a big forest where I could find myself”? I didn’t need to ask anymore. He could catch everything going through my mind and not let go.The fox whose name and sex I didn’t know was walking in front of me and I was following it.- You should have understood by now from the tone of my voice that I am a male.We were moving forward by walking through branches and stepping on the roots of the tall trees. It was as if we were in a labyrinth. I was preparing questions in my mind. I shouldn’t miss this chance. I would remember everything when I woke up in the morning. What I would find here could be very precious. - Wasn’t there anything you were looking for from where you came?I don’t know if it is because of love, peace, or being loved, not only my mouth but my mind was also faltering. I was caught unprepared for the question that I needed to answer with my heart, not with my mind. The fox read my mind again.- You can’t find what you’re thinking by searching for them. If they exist, they exist.- Meaning?- And you should be able to wait forever for someone to love you.It was as if the fox had a philosophy teacher in him. - Brother fox, I am about to wake up, I can feel it. I beg you, let’s stop wandering around.- Ok, ok, we’re there.Suddenly, the earth that had giant tree roots cracked open and water started entering through the crack. The puddle which looked like a small pool was very clear. The fox reached his head forward and looked at his reflection on the water.- Stoop over and look at yourself.- Ok, I am looking.I kneeled on my knees and I reached my head towards the water. Even though this was a dream, I went weak at my knees. If I didn’t support myself with my hands, I could have fallen into the water. Bedazzled, I was looking at my reflection. I was trying to lose the illusion on the water by shaking my head, opening my mouth, closing my eyes. My face had turned into a cat.- How come I have this cat face?My hands and feet looked like human’s. As if there was a mirror in the water and it was turning everything it touched into a cat. I saw my paws when I held my hand over the water or my back legs and my tail when I extended my feet over the water. - Why am I a cat now?- Come with me.I was trying to walk like a human but had started feeling like a cat. I was carefully looking around, trying to sense the smells coming from the deep with my nose. Weren’t there other animals in this big forest? Although I tried to feel or imagine, I couldn’t find a creature that matched the visuals that I had.As I walked, the tall trees started shortening, the green leaves began to turn yellow, and the color of the sky turned lighter. We came to the top of a high hill. Everywhere was like a yellowed postcard. My curious cat eyes were looking at the two-story house at the bottom of the hill. The house where I spent my childhood was before me with all the details that my child self could remember. And its new warm state, which I could never remember, was reflected in my cat eyes. I could even see the rusty handle of its garden gate and remember the flowers in our garden and the sparrows perching on our windowsill. As I kept remembering, I felt that I had forgotten thousands of details that filled me in now. I guess we choose to forget to be able to let new colors enter our life. Reaching out with my front paws, I had started running to the garden that I longed for, to the house where I was born. The fox profoundly stayed at the top of the hill. I was running to my past, to the colors that made me. A rainbow was colorfully painting the roof and welcoming me home. As I approached the house, the missing pieces got clearer and a period which I had forgotten came to life. I could see my child-self looking outside the window. It was as if I was running to my childhood and my home. My cat body had gotten closer to the house and come eye to eye with my childhood. - Mom, my cat is here.Our eyes were locked to each other. When I looked at him, I was seeing my childhood and when he looked at me, he was seeing his future. - It came back! My cat came back! I told you so!My child voice was tuning me, completing the missing notes. I was waiting in the garden in my cat state. A big hand was reaching up the sky and placing patches like puzzle pieces to the missing places. The three-story house next to our house and all the houses along the unpaved road were coming to life. I was trying to catch the reaching hand with my cat curiosity, but I wasn’t successful at all. The door of the three-story grey house was opened, and a middle-aged man came out. The man whose face I couldn’t remember, holding a bag out:- Come here, kitty, kitty… When I smelled the boiled chicken, I had realized that I was hungry. With the excitement and cuteness of being little, I had pawed towards the chicken that the man placed on the ground. When I raised my cat head, I saw a familiar look on man’s face. I knew that face; this was me at my fifties. My childhood, leaning his head against the window that was fogged by my breath, was trying to tell something. - Don’t eat that! Don’t you eat that! I was eating the boiled chicken by looking at my childhood. The man was going back to his house. As soon as I bit the last piece of the chicken, the man and his three-story house had been disappeared. Before my bites found their way to my stomach, the poison that was injected to the chicken had started traveling through my body. I was gasping for breath, my hair was burning, I had a pain in my stomach and there were tears in the eyes of my childhood. I was running with the pain that I felt as a cat. The fox was left behind. The forest was disappeared and everywhere started to look like the rest of the unpaved road. I didn’t know where to go. My paws had brought me to a crowded street. My childhood was disappeared behind the unpaved roads, in the deepness of the forest. It was trying to talk, suffering, crying for help by rubbing against the legs of the people whose faces I couldn’t see. The letters coming out of my mouth had no meaning. It was as if I was seeing myself on people’s faces. Rushing people, waiting men, angry faces, hopeless stares… It was as if I was trying to share my pain with everybody and wanted to tell something to the humankind whom I saw on my face. There was nobody to help or pet me. I don’t even want to mention the kicks I got. If could talk, there were a lot to tell. I opened my eyes at the bus stop near the Levent subway station. This wasn’t a dream wrapped in quilts or bed sheets. I guess I was fainted. A bunch of people were gathered around me. An old man who was emptying a bottle of water over me and an old lady who was holding a lemon cologne under my nose were inviting me to the reality. I kneeled down on my knees and tried to grasp for air and pull myself together. There were pukes on my arms and my cuffs. And my mouth tasted like the boiled chicken that I ate at lunch. According to the old lady, I had food poisoning, and thank God, I felt relieved after I threw up. Holding my hands out to the crowd, I tried to get up. When I just got up, we caught each other’s eye. The cat on the sidewalk right accross the street was looking at me. Just like me.(1) A crazy person is usually depicted with funnel on his/her head in Turkish humor.
  2. While we are waiting for the new series, another story from Engin Garfish İsmail By Engin Akyurek [Translated by Engin Akyurek Universal Fans Club] He felt really cold... Ismail couldn’t get used to feeling the cold on his feet while walking. The cold of Ankara would cruelly infiltrate your body from your weakest point and, traveling inside of your body, would lay an ambush at places where it could intensify. Ismail’s feet would always feel cold. His tiny frail feet which are discordant with his garfish-like face would have difficulty in carrying his body. He was about to finish the high school. If his feet didn’t fail him, these roads he used to walk would be replaced with the corridors of a university which he would attend with a scholarship. The cold air he breathed in got stuck in his throat. He was feeling the cold on his feet and his breath on his soles. The stiches on the soles of his shoes were well-matched with his garfish-like face. He wished he had thick sole boots; then, he wouldn’t mind Ankara’s cold or the road to school. If he could climb that ridge fast enough, he would arrive at his one-story home that had a stove. He stumbled upon his father, junk hawker, at the most difficult part of the ridge. “Are you going home, dad?” “Yes, give me a hand with these.” Ismail helped his father push his 4-wheel push cart, glancing the cart with the hope of seeing a thick sole boot. If his father saw the hope in his eyes, he would get upset; therefore, he tried to hide it. Ismail, averting his gaze, kept his eyes on the peak of the ridge. There were pots and pans and an old stove in the cart. “How was your day, dad?” “Same old same old, pots, pans, and tongs…” “Nothing worth money then…” “Never mind that, how is school?” “Good, very good.” His father always had a meaningful smile. What his son just told him made his smile hidden under his thick moustache warmer. He would dream the days that people would talk about how “junk-hawker” Nizam’s son became a doctor. He would love the thought of it, which made him smile to himself. Father and son climbed the ridge and entered the street where their house was. Ismail had forgotten the cold a little bit while pushing the cart with his frail body. Their garden looked like a little junk store: iron rods, rusty goods, old clothes wrinkled because of the cold… Ismail looked at the chimney of their one-story house and started to speed up, hoping that his mother already came back from work and lit the stove. “Ismail, give me a hand to carry this stove to the house.” The chimney was not smoking, and Ismail was contracting his feet because of the cold. “Are we going to use the stove?” “Our stove is punctured, and therefore, not holding the heat.” Ismail, not yielding the cold, brought the stove to their house by himself as if he were taking a revenge. He had drawn a comparison between their punctured stove and his boots. The things that need to make them warm were getting punctured from unexpected places. Nizam had realized Ismail’s cold feet while telling his son about the technique of lighting a stove and said: “Change your clothes with clean ones. Your mom will be here soon.” “Will you light the stove, dad?” “I will, I will.” Ismail carefully hanged his ironed white shirt and jacket behind the door. The only cure for his cold feet were a warm stove and thick wool socks. He felt the heat coming from inside while washing his face and hands. How wonderful the new stove was! Not only it was heating the entire room but also other rooms as well. He could sit near the stove wearing his wool socks and study or could sleep hearing its sound. His dad was tearing apart the old stove in the backyard as if he were fighting with the cold. He didn’t want to show himself while watching him. He might have needed help. He moved his feet closer to the stove, crouched and got smaller. Ismail was listening to the crackling sound of the stove as if it was a lullaby. While his eyes surrendered to the heat, his red ears gave him a peaceful countenance. “Ismail! Ismail!” Just he was about to fall asleep: “Ismail, son, are you asleep?” Ismail let his vocal cords fall asleep not to let his father want him to help: “…” “Ismail, son?” “Dad…” “I will pick up your mother from work and go to the market.” “Ok, dad.” Ismail, happy that his father didn’t want any help, secured his position and hugged the stove a little bit more. His feet just got warm and remembered their duty. His father, while leaving the house, said: “If you get hungry, there is some food in the fridge. We won’t be late.” The sun was about to set, and the darkness was slowly painting the grey sky. The leftovers of the Tuesday Market were awaiting her mother’s tote cart. When to go to the market was very important. It should be around the evening hours when the darkness casted a shadow over the market’s closing time mess.” The crackling stove had lost its momentum and its fire was about to die because the coals at the bottom did not burn. Ismail with his book in his arms, his pen on his belly, and his wool socks had become a part of the stove. His feet had started to move and the symptoms of an external awakening, which signaled the cold, were showing up. He knew this wiggling very well. If this wiggling started from his feet, it would take over his entire body and cover his garfish body and would not leave for hours. When he opened his eyes half lidded, the cold had created a new way of seeing and, mixing with the cold breath he exhaled, had made inside of the house blurred. Straightening up from where he lied down, he looked at inside the stove. Bucketed stoves, when they were not lit well, could turn into a cruel thing that had been waiting for an opportunity to die down by collaborating with the cold. Even though Ismail wanted to draw a comparison with his holed boots, his mind was preoccupied with a scrupulous blazing stove. He checked his watch; his parents would be back soon but even though Ismail would wait, his feet wouldn’t. He looked around the room to find a useful thing to stir up the coals at the bottom of the stove to produce a flame. He tried to burn the wood pieces stacked up on top of the coals by tearing up a couple of pages of his notebook, but to no avail. He didn’t want to go outside and be too presumptuous with the cold. He looked for flammable things in the house. While looking at inside of a closet, he had seen an old jacket winking at him. It was a faded velvet jacket with torn lining, whom his father hadn’t worn for a long time. He had taken the velvet jacket, folded it into four-fold, and then thrown it into the stove. When the jacket caught fire, the coals had surrendered to the fire. Ismail had continued his sleep and covered himself with the blazing stove like a quilt. The sound coming from the stove was like the footsteps of an army on a campaign. The door was opened and Nizam and his wife entered the house. They have a hidden smile. The trip to the market was good and they were able to satisfy their weekly kitchen needs. Nizam, while putting what they bought into the fridge: “Son, wake up! You won’t be able to sleep at night.” Ismail didn’t want to wake up but the heat had made him hungry. Her mother screamed: “ Oh my god!” “What happened?” “Thief! We’ve been robbed.” Ismail straightened up and tried to understand the word “thief”. “A thief!” His mother’s eyes were full of tears as her crying voice. “A thief has stolen the velvet jacket.” Nizam tried to understand his crying wife: “What are you talking about? What thief? Which jacket?” “The old jacket in the closet. It’s gone.” “So? I haven’t been wearing it anyways.” “I had hidden the money that I saved inside the torn lining of that jacket.” Ismail had gotten smaller where he was. “I was going to buy Ismail new boots. Surely, someone took it.” Ismail, looking at his feet, crouched down. His feet were scorching, his soles were burning by the hell fire, the warmth of his toes were tremulously smoldering his ears. He could neither tell that he burned the jacket nor mention his torn boots. A thief had entered the house! A thief! After that day, Ismail’s feet have never felt cold.
  3. so this is pretty much confirmed now.....at last a tv show after three years! Serenay and Engin ultimately, she was even considered for Olene Kadar but then it was meant to be now I guess.
  4. Lots of Umut pictures, has the movie released for wider audience? English subtitles.....so as to say
  5. Engin won a special award (Ayhan Isik awards) in Sardi Alisik Odulleri awards to be presented on 6th of May Some new pictures (04/14)
  6. I don’t think it has been subbed as yet Jonsen •·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·••·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·••·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·••·.·´`·.·•·.·´`·.·• Which other manager? There only one that I know
  7. Engin with his manager (a new one) on the streets of Istanbul #Biraskikihayat at #Cannes #MIPTV2019 by the name of #Destiny
  8. Merhabalar A new story has popped up again and what an apt one in today’s world English translation credit: EAUFC We Have A Problem By Engin Akyurek There was a word salad before me. People, without knowing what they were saying, had started dipping their sentences into a greasy meat plate. The one slowly talking and flaring up his problem was trying to tell us that he had more meaningful and deeper problems. What is a problem anyways? It is a delicately crafted human-made malady that comes and goes or stubbornly stays put when it gets bored. This malady that we call “problem” likes to build a nest where it settles, and then, to ramify. When it casts a shadow over one’s mind, slowly playing a tambourine with the winder of one’s heart and making one feel restless, it can turn one’s body into a piece of dried unleavened bread. Selim had begun to tell about his exes. If he started a sentence in a moody tone, he would take a hold of us like a domino and talk our head off with his past problems until the night ended. The conversation between six men sitting around a long table was always falling into this trap. I didn’t know if this was because of boredom or because of a manifestation of a need or because of a decrease in what we shared, and I tried not to worry about it so much. Even though I sit at the far end of the table, that conversation would eventually find me. They would want to hear my problems to be able to understand if I was paying attention. I would serve my fabricated problems like an appetizer not to appear conceit. Don’t get me wrong; it was not that I didn’t have any problems, who wouldn’t? It is just that our daily problems, becoming lifetime problems, would invade our precious time. We would treat each other like a psychologist and exhaust ourselves with a haughty cleaning, which didn’t go beyond sweeping our problems under the rug. The long dinner tables would turn into psychotherapy chairs. We used to act like aggrieved therapists of the modern era. Ilker, softening Selim’s little passes with the most shameless part of his tongue, dropped such a sentence in the middle of the table that, the long corners of the table tapered and lost its rectangle geometry. “I’m getting married.” “With whom?” “Mehtap.” “Mehtap who?” “Mehtap.” Our inquisition was beating up Hakan as well. “Is Mehtap our Mehtap?” As if I didn’t ask the same question, Mehmet, enunciating there was a problem with its content: “Is Mehtap our Mehtap?” “Yes, bro, our Mehtap.” Nobody, except for Ilker, didn’t know how to start the next sentence and therefore, took refuge in silence. We had another fresh problem in our lap, moreover a burning one… Mehtap was Hakan’s ex. Their love was big, and they were almost getting married. All of us was childhood friends, except for Ilker who had been a regular at our table for the last year. He was Selim’s colleague at work. At first, he was just a guest. But he had slowly succeeded in joining our conversations. Mehtap used to come when Hakan wasn’t around. Somewhere, somehow, they had started seeing each other. Selim, feeling responsible for introducing Ilker to us, asked the same question in his own way: “Is Mehtap our Mehtap?” “Yes. You’re right. None of you knew.” Ahmet was next to Hakan who didn’t want to show his feelings with his silent energy. He asked his question as if he wanted to make Hakan invisible. “When did this happen? I mean when did you meet?” “Three months ago.” “Three months…” “It was on impulse. I am not sure how. I found myself proposing her.” Hakan’s silence precluded us talking about wedding or related subjects. Hakan sipped his tea and tried to hide his heartbreak mixed with anger behind his serious countenance. Ilker must have felt that something was going on. If he could easily talk about getting married with Mehtap, he probably didn’t know what happened in the past. We tried to figure out how to react by exchanging glances with each other. We were so curious about each other’s thoughts that we had crazy questions in our minds. - Why did not Mehtap talk about Ilker? - Was Hakan still in love with Mehtap? (I thought he was because it was obvious from the way he drank his tea. - If there was a wedding, would he go? - What would Ilker do when he found out Hakan and Mehtap almost got married. If these questions, like old wives’ gossips pondering in our minds, were left unanswered, we would keep talking about them. Our civilized side, unable to beat our primitiveness and nature that we couldn’t hide, tried to express itself with a plush smile on our face. Just I was wishing Ilker to go to restroom so that the rest of us could discuss the situation, Ilker got up and said: “I will use the restroom.” I guess I would wish the same thing if I wanted something from God. Ilker took his phone with him and went to restroom. We looked at Hakan. His reaction would determine our tone and color. If had grey tones in his voice, we wouldn’t go to the wedding and weather it with a quarter gold coin slipped into a dry congratulations card. If he talked in a not-caring and self-deceiving mood, we would go to the wedding and even dance. If he talked in dark sentences, that could end up, us upturning the long table and beating Ilker here. Hakan sipped his tea one more time: “I’ll go. I need to be alone.” What happened now? We all had gotten our share of the problem. Ahmet, looking after Hakan and, with a sad, deep voice, said: “Bro, I think Hakan is still in love with this girl.” Selim nodded; Ahmet had just told the title of a topic he loved the most: “When we see our former lover whom we don’t even remember his/her face with another man, we usually get confused. I can understand Hakan.” Mehmet leaned back against his chair, looking towards the restrooms and making us look at there as well, checked if Ilker was coming back. He underlined that we needed to talk quickly: “Well? What are we going to do?” I had my share of the conversation as well. Ilker was coming back. “Guys, I am going to talk to Ilker. He should know. Let’s tell him everything before things get serious.” However, neither I could tell him the truth nor Ilker made an effort to understand what the problem was. His rocking body had made us feel dizzy and we had forgotten what to say as if our words went after a wedding convoy. The man was born to marry; it was impossible to say anything over his excitement and happiness. While we were sipping our teas, our minds were busy with crazy questions. I had found myself as a “best man” during a talk jumping from the ceremony of asking for her hand in marriage to henna night. I think what I wished from God did not happen this time… The wedding day was in three months, but they called it off two weeks before the wedding. Nobody knew why. We heard it through the grapevine that Mehtap was the one who called it off. Some unofficial sources told that it was Ilker who went crazy and called it off after finding out that she was in a relationship with Hakan before him. We hadn’t seen Ilker much after the wedding was cancelled. Hakan’s face was glowing. He talked on and on: “Mehtap is still in love with me.” We were again five people around the table. We had our bags on Ilker’s chair. “Bro, this girl still loves me.” We had a big problem now, a very big problem…
  9. Thanks girls for all the pictures and videos from movie release. Here is the link for English translation to Engin and Berguzar’s interview. https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=2234815949872253&id=236720409681827&anchor_composer=false
  10. Engin Akyurek’s Life magazine interview translated in English by EAUFC credit: EAUFC Facebook page. Engin Akyurek's Interview in Istanbul Life Magazine-Full Interview(all four pages)/Engin Akyurek'in Istanbul Life Dergisine verdigi roportajin Ingilizce cevirisi(tam metin) Engin Akyurek "Love is like the point of reference in our lives" We met with famous actor Engin Akyürek in Moda. We talked about the film "Bir Aşk İki Hayat", which will be released in cinemas very soon, we talked about Istanbul and his new book. - “They say that life is directed by big events, whereas it is the sum of the small decisions we make ...” This phrase was heard in the trailer of a movie of yours,One Love Two Lives , that we will very soon see in cinemas. What kind of movie is awaiting for us? - These phrases actually describe the movie very well. Sometimes, when a film is being shot, or when we think about something related to a book, we feel as if we need to relate something very important about life. In fact, the films that we all love very much, which we admire, are very simple things about life, similar to our life. This film, as well, starts at such a point. It starts as the result of a very simple incident "what would have happened if he had taken his dog for a walk, what if he hadn’t?" we see two different states of the life of Umut, the character I play, as a result of a very simple choice. When I read the script, I said I wish I could see the possibilities of my choices. We live every single thing we have chosen, but the things we haven’t chosen always remain a dream or something unknown. This is where the beauty and trick of the film lie. It’s about how a simple thing actually changes our lives. - Would you tell us the story of the character you give life to, in the film? - Well, we did some shooting in Moda. Ninety percent of the film took place there. This is a Kadikoy film. Umut is a director living in Moda. He has some problems concerning his job. He is a person who cannot shoot the films he wants, he has to shoot commercials. In fact, he is a character who experiences things that each of us may face and experience at some period of our lives . - In the film there is love, life and decisions that are made. How does the film reflect the decisions made by Umut among his countless choices in love and life? - Actually, the film does not underline these decisions. It’s a simple decision like how to take his dog for a walk or which way to go. In fact, it is decisions that we haven’t really taken into account. And he finds his love based on his decision and moves forward to a process that tells the story. You must have understood the dual narration already, if you have watched the trailer of the film. There are not two different men in the film, there are two different stories of the same man. - What kind of journey is promised to the audience of the film "One Love, Two Lives"(Bir Aşk İki Hayat)? - I believe that they will review their own lives. For example, if one came with their loved one, they will review the history of their meeting. Choosing a profession, choosing a path ...Generally, people want to think about the positive sides of these situations, but they will see the negative ones, too, in this film. I think that when you watch the film, your point of view about love and life will be affected and you will make some deductions. -In order to shoot for our cover, we turned our route towards Moda and Kadıköy streets. And in the film there is a story passing through this route. In your opinion, how did this area, its structure, influenced the film? When did you do the shooting, what was the shooting process like? - This is a film of Kadikoy and Moda. The shooting took place in July. The film is directed by Ali Bilgin. In the part of the film that has been watched, it is as if it’s a film of me and Bergüzar Korel. I said the same thing about the movie “A small September affair”. It’s a movie of two people. This film is of the same flavor,too. We had not acted together before with Bergüzar Korel ,we did we know each other. I am very happy to have met her. The film is a very short period of interaction among the actors, and you have to harmonize immediately. It is very valuable that there are no problems regarding Bergüzar’s acting ability, motivation and good performance at work. This is a movie of two people. And it was very important that we managed to capture this, in this movie, as well. We didn’t have a particularly long preparation period. We had to start the movie immediately. From the very beginning, we were able to capture very good energy. And what the film needed was energy. I hope this was transferred into the movie. I live in Kadiköy. Due to the fact that we shot in my favorite places, on the streets I walk through, I did not feel much alienated. I sat a lot In places where Umut sat. The places where the film was filmed are like the film’s identity. We feel Kadiköy and Moda in the film very much. Umut’s house, his world and the places that brought him into existence are here. -Would you tell us how the film portrays its evaluations about love? -In our lives, our profession, the things we will do, our achievements, are very much in the foreground. In fact, love is hid in a place in our lives that we hadn’t figured out… Love, is like the point of reference in our lives. A point where we actually find ourselves. While life was going towards a very safe point, when we fall in love and everything is razed to the ground. Or, when love comes, everything that was unpleasant, becomes beautiful all of a sudden. The movie relates to us what things in life may change through finding love and through our way of life. When you meet someone, you face this person carrying with you all your life experiences. We come along with the traumas we’ve been through, the problems we have experienced. And these rise to the surface after some time. In my opinion, this is a part that is very well related in the film. Our roots, our being a family, being parents… We all bring with us problems from the past, but how we even them up is important. The character I play thinks that he will solve this by shooting a film but he understands that things aren’t like that. - In the city, which are the districts whose soul and pattern is your favorite? Which side of the city is closer to you? - I love the Anatolian side… Kalamis, Fenerbahce… Apart from being quiet and peaceful, it is also related with the feeling of life. It gives the people living here a feeling, a sense of belonging. I am from Ankara and I compare it with the place I have come to…Apart from the sea… -Are there places, districts or streets that inspire you? -I won’t talk about the place I live in, but there are in Kalamis and Fenerbahce.I love their streets, their feeling, their marinas. Bagdad Avenue is one of the places that make me feel good. Maybe there a lot more beautiful places in Istanbul, but I love to be in the streets. I love a crowd that is not tiring. Being inside a crowd does me good. I have also lived on the European side, I spent a lot of time. Bebek and Arnavutkoy are very beautiful. In fact, they own the most beautiful scenery in the world. I also love Uskudar. It has an extraordinary scenery. It has to get rid of the building sites and make itself felt. Honestly, I got to know Istanbul during the shootings. Because of them I went to totally different parts of the city. - The previous months, your first short story book “Silence” met with the readers. It is a book that takes its readers on a trip to the years they have missed. In your opinion, what was about the book that had the readers hooked? - I didn’t intend to create such a sense, in fact I didn’t write with the feeling of longing for the past or as a beautification of the past. You are only inside today, the only thing you have in order to compare the feelings and emotions of today is your past. When my childhood and my school adventures came together, I felt that I came to a beautiful story point. In the past five years, life has progressed at a speed beyond our notice. Even faster. We turned towards a life in which we feel even less, we listen and communicate with each other even less. And this is valid for all of us. The moment I realized this, is the moment when these stories started to appear. - How long has writing been a part of your life? -To be honest, it was always there. During my university years I was writing stories. I wasn’t writing in a systematic way but there were stories that I was writing in between. Then, when I started writing in the magazine called Kafasina Gore, they started to accumulate. And as they were accumulating I thought why don’t we make a book out of them. Although I was writing about different topics, it was like the total view on those issues, of a man living in the world. It became something like looking at the issues from the same perspective. - You were born and grew up in Ankara. What if we asked you today to make a comparison between the place Istanbul and Ankara has in your life? If we asked what is it that you wouldn’t give up in Istanbul, and what are the things you miss from Ankara? - I came to Istanbul in 2003. At the moment there is no Ankara like the one I left in 2003. Neither is there the Istanbul of those years. Wherever from you may come to Istanbul, you will find this city fast and exhausting. People are as if they are always running to a place. Yes, I have experienced this as well, but I can say one thing, today this speed is everywhere. We are in a process of all becoming similar, I believe that such problems will lose their influence over time. - You will describe Istanbul to a person who has never seen it. Which would be the words you would use most often? - I will say: "Come, come…" - Is there a place in Istanbul that you have explored? - There is no place that hasn’t been explored. If someone finds one, let us know. - A place in Istanbul that you like most? - Kadikoy. - Is there a place in Istanbul that you have never been to? - I would dare say no. - Who do you think best enjoys this city? - Seagulls. - If Istanbul was a loved one, what would you do to conquer her? - Istanbul is like a cheated and hurt lover. The sparkle in the eyes is still there. In order to open her heart, I would first need to hug her and ask for her forgiveness. She may forgive me, us... - In your opinion, what is the best meeting place in the city? - I think that there is such a feeling in Besiktas. - Which artist would you like to see coming to this city? - Olafur Arnalds ve Hammock,it’s my favorite band. - Which is your favorite historical symbol in this city? - I love the historical peninsula as a whole. - A favorite walking route? - Caddebostan beach. - If it wasn’t Istanbul, where would you like to live? - In Ankara or Kas. - A book you have read? - Sezgin Kaymaz, Nefha , David Grossman "A horse enters the bar" - A movie you have watched? - Ida and Roma. (Translated by Engin Akyurek Universal Fans Club)
  11. +1, indeed Lavender. @Def Leppard hope you are reading this.
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