An Absorbing Psychological Thriller With a Dark Heart

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In a subtle yet intriguing twist, the suspenseful drama “The Things You Kill” by Iranian-American director Alireza Khatami, showcased in Sundance’s World Cinema Dramatic Competition, is set in an undisclosed Turkish city. While it may be tempting to view the film through a sociocultural lens, given its exploration of themes such as patriarchy, tradition, and repression, its atmospheric undertones reminiscent of Kafka, Dostoevsky, Lynch, and Hitchcock suggest that the narrative could unfold anywhere. The film’s cultural nuances and universal storyline make it a captivating piece of art. Interestingly, the director initially penned the script in Farsi, but geopolitical circumstances led him to relocate the story to another country. A significant scene in the movie features a language professor, Ali Özdilek (portrayed by Ekin Koç), who discusses the origins of the word “translation” with his class. He explains that it originally signifies moving something from one place to another, and that embedded within this concept is also an Arabic word meaning “destruction.” This dialogue serves as a subtle yet profound reflection on the film’s narrative about transformation in a liminal world, as well as a metatextual commentary on the very existence of the thriller itself.

In my recent cinematic journey, I found myself immersed in the poignant tale of a man named Ali, who upon returning from America, finds himself entangled in a troubling domestic affair involving his elderly parents. His tender heart is particularly concerned for his ailing, homebound mother, while his father Hamit (portrayed by Ercan Kesal) remains distant and unfeeling. Hamit’s absence suggests he may be engaging elsewhere, possibly with another woman. The tragic turn of events arrives when Ali’s mother passes away, fueling his suspicions.

The contrast between Ali’s nurturing nature and his father’s dusty machismo is palpable. As the story unfolds, Ali grapples with questions about his own masculinity. This internal struggle intensifies when he learns that his sperm has low motility. Alongside his veterinarian wife, Hazar (played by Hazar Ergüçlü), they’ve been trying to conceive a child, but their efforts have consistently failed. Despite her belief that the issue lies with her, Ali conceals from her the results of his test results, fearing it may reveal something unsettling about himself.

In a parallel turn of events, he also finds himself spending his days outside of home, either delivering lectures at Ankara’s Gazi University, always teetering on the brink of termination, or maintaining the rundown family garden in the dismal outskirts of the town. One unexpected day, a vagabond named Rıza (Erkan Kolçak Köstendil) shows up at the property, bearing no past and no abode, and strikes a deal to work the land. Bold and brash, Rıza swiftly hatches a scheme to outwit local red tape and expand Ali’s well. He even succeeds in subduing the rather testy guard dog that patrols the garden.

Ali and Riza are not twins, but there seems to be a void in the anxious academic, Riza, that the mysterious drifter, Ali, appears to fill. (It’s likely not a mere coincidence that each man shares half of the director’s name.) This connection could form the basis for a straightforward narrative, but Khatami, unlike many directors working in these blended genres, knows how to balance tension and character development. Each character in this film is nuanced and multi-dimensional – from Ali’s emotionally tied sisters who feel abandoned by their brother, to the woman thought to be their father’s other lover, whose scene is particularly impactful. The film subtly hints at tragic past events without ever trying to explain or justify them; instead, these hints serve to add depth to the characters and their lives.

A potential rephrase: The main challenge when crafting symbolic, psychologically intense films such as this one is avoiding characters that appear overly mechanical, their actions scripted in advance. Regrettably, many directors who produce these kinds of movies lean heavily on wit, twists, and shock factors – elements that elicit fleeting responses from viewers – while neglecting to breathe life into their creations. Nevertheless, it’s evident that the core of The Things You Kill stems from an authentic emotion. It’s captivating, suspenseful, and profoundly touching – a masterclass in creating an impactful psychological thriller.

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2025-01-29 22:54