‘The Things You Kill’ Review: Family Secrets Cause a Man to Unravel in a Psychologically Intricate Homecoming Drama

by

Towards the end of the intense psychological drama “The Things You Kill,” the character Ali (Ekin Koç), a man in his 30s who’s married, shares a traumatic experience from his childhood and explains why he chose to study comparative literature in America instead of Turkey. As he delves deeper into his own past, the scene momentarily becomes blurred, as if the more he opens up, the clearer things become. Symbolically, the struggles he experiences in this story about emotional transformation seem to take place in a hazy, unclear area, with Ali searching for a state of clarity to face the tumultuous present that he’s in now.

The compelling story by Iranian filmmaker Alireza Khatami, who’s back to solo directing after collaborating on “Terrestrial Verses” – a film set in Iran with powerful political sketches – together with Ali Asgari, delves into the fascinating concept of how one person can harbor various identities. It’s as if an individual speaks a different dialect with each person they interact with, adapting themselves to fit every situation. In essence, we are all multilingual in terms of our personalities.

The movie “The Things You Kill” explores its central theme by delving into the family strife that plagues the protagonist, Ali. His troubles are manifold: he frets over his sick mother’s wellbeing under the roof of his stern and distant father, Hamit (Ercan Kesal). At the same time, his veterinarian spouse, Hazar (Hazar Ergüçlü), encourages him to prioritize their reproductive health due to their fertility issues. In the midst of this daily chaos, Reza (Erkan Kolçak Köstendil), a traveler in search of employment, unexpectedly appears at Ali’s rural garden. The cinematographer, Bartosz Swiniarski, captures the vast and barren landscapes surrounding the garden, adding an eerie appeal to the storyline. Ali then decides to employ Reza to tend to his plants, which leads to an unusual bond between the two contrasting individuals.

After many years, Ali’s deep-seated anger towards his father surfaces following his mother’s unexpected demise. As he digs deeper into events that happened during his time away from Turkey, his fury intensifies. The individuals he had considered familiar now appear unfamiliar to him. In portraying Ali, Koç skillfully hides his burning desire for vengeance beneath a facade of frustrated disbelief and exasperation, which stands in stark contrast to Köstendil’s impressive portrayal of Reza, radiating macho swagger. The combination of their performances gives an impression of a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde dynamic. As the story unfolds in “The Things You Kill,” Kathami skillfully broadens the meaning of this internal struggle with each new revelation.

In a local college, Ali shares that the root of the word “translation” in Arabic means “to kill,” or to replace an old term with a new one. Although terms may have similar meanings in different languages, they are never exactly the same. The Ali who speaks English in America is fundamentally distinct from the one who navigates through life in Turkish. Each unique self reveals a part of its identity. Scenes of Ali sleeping seem casual at first glance, but these naps and dreams as a realm where individuals live alternate lives serve as bookends to the story.

From beginning to end, “The Things You Kill” serves as a sharp exploration of how one shapes their own story based on how they are perceived by others. For Hamit, this new chance at life offers an opportunity to become the loving husband he failed to be for Ali’s mother. His new girlfriend sees only the gentle side of him that he has carefully crafted. Similarly, Ali and his sister grew up with a favorable view of their grandfather due to Hamit hiding the harsh reality of how his father raised him. Through erasing the past and thus the truth – either by adopting a different persona or by concealing secrets – change occurs. Interestingly, having children is depicted as a second chance at life – an opportunity to begin anew unintentionally. However, Ali frets about the possibility of repeating his father’s mistakes as a parent.

It’s intriguing to note that Khatami, a non-native Turkish artist, seems to maintain a thematic consistency across different cultures, as demonstrated by his debut feature “The Things You Kill,” made in Turkey, and his 2017 Spanish-language film “Oblivion Verses” shot in Chile. This raises the question: What kind of artist does Khatami become or revert to when working in Turkish or Spanish compared to his native Persian? This is a question that often arises for artists who leave their homeland and work internationally. Are they adapting, blending, or perhaps switching creative codes based on the latitude and cultural environment they find themselves in? In essence, we could say this is an example of code-switching.

In a figurative sense, following an unexpected act of violence, Ali’s transformation reflects his wish to embody a bolder, traditionally masculine version of himself. The fact that the character named Ali is eventually replaced by Reza suggests a struggle between two distinct personalities within one individual. Interestingly, the director’s name, Alireza, combines these two names, hinting at a deep bond between the creator and his creation. This subtle detail indicates the intimate connection between the artist and their work.

Ali aspires to be a man who would resort to bribing authorities, concealing his whereabouts during a crucial moment, yielding to his most immoral sexual desires, and mistreating those he perceives as threats to his plans. In essence, the temporary manifestation of his darkest self is Ali. Was this the true nature of Ali abroad? Through “The Things You Kill,” Khatami delivers an engaging and suspenseful exploration of self-reflection.

Read More

2025-01-25 09:50