The quote that caught my attention most in the Three Monkeys (2008) interview was Ceylan's claim that "to convey certain things, the image is useless; sound suffices" (Cardullo 110). This nugget of wisdom is surprising coming from a film director, as it seems to undermine the visual, but I agree that sound has a communicative power often neglected. Three Monkeys maximizes sound's communicative potential in compelling, sometimes surreal ways, some of which I will explore here.
Some sounds - while there because they make sense to be there in the scene (e.g., train, ringtone, thunder) - also help create a particular atmosphere for the film. The train, for instance, is often heard grinding against the tracks and blaring its grating horn. These noises feed into a mood of unpleasantness and tension, giving us some insight into how the characters are feeling.
On the note of feelings, Hacer's (Hatice Asian) ringtone provides the most direct emotional cue the film has to offer. Asuman Suner writes that the lyrics "[voice] a sense of bitterness and resentment" at several elongated points throughout the film (181). It is, in many ways, Hacer's victim anthem, one she has selected for herself. The first time this "anthem" plays out, it is almost like a gag, with Hacer being unable to find the phone in her purse. Her fumbling may symbolically suggest that she is unable to stop seeing herself as a victim in the area of love, despite her efforts to silence this "anthem."
Turning to a more ominous use of sound, Ceylan punctuates the film with thunderclaps at various points, most notably at the beginning and end. By opening and closing with this sound, Ceylan signifies that little has changed. Another man has been killed, the tensions of the family remain unresolved, and the ghost of their little boy has likely not left for the last time. Thunder suggests that there is another "storm" to come, perhaps one of the legal, marital, familial, or emotional variety (or any combination thereof).
Perhaps some of these sounds are redundant, merely accenting what the visuals communicate, but they often draw more attention than the visuals themselves. I would have to rewatch the film in order to identify where these sounds echo the visuals and where they provide entirely new layers of meaning.
Speaking now of love and money, I had a difficult time analyzing the film with this focus in mind. It's possible I misunderstood the plot, but it seemed as though Hacer's affair with Servet (Ercan Kesal) was in large part financially motivated. Was Servet providing for Hacer and Ismail (Ahmet Rifat Sungar) while Eyup (Yavuz Bingol) did his time in prison? If that's the case, it would account for the large envelope of cash Ismail finds after Hacer and Servet have met up a few times. Servet is certainly a well-to-do man, as evidenced by his almost-career in politics, his nice office, and the many phone calls he gets from people he treats as his subservients (i.e., with little patience and a demanding tone). It's possible Hacer is attracted to Servet's higher class lifestyle, driving her to become obsessed with him and, conversely, to lose interest in Eyup. These are just speculations though. As I said, the "can we love without money?" lens was more challenging to view this film through.
"It's possible I misunderstood the plot, but it seemed as though Hacer's affair with Servet (Ercan Kesal) was in large part financially motivated. Was Servet providing for Hacer and Ismail (Ahmet Rifat Sungar) while Eyup (Yavuz Bingol) did his time in prison?" Well, we know S paid I E's salary while E was biding his time in prison. And the deal b/w S and E was that the former would pay the latter a "lump sum" after he is out of prison. But I asks his mother to get money from S before his father returns (so he can buy a car). What I think is unclear is whether the family knows why the father is in prison--do they know the truth? If not, what is the rationale for I thinking his mother can ask S for money? I'd have to re-watch to figure this out more clearly. Maybe one of you know?
Similar to the last film we watched, "Wendy and Lucy", I found that Ceylan's film "Three monkeys" was almost a literal tale of how one cannot love without money. In it we can see the character of Hacer change from a loving wife and mother to an obsessed adulterer who seems to chase after the one with the money. While she never expressly mentions the money, we can assume that it is the defining factor, and that the director is making a clear connection here. She seems to be unsatisfied with her sub par apartment and job, and it would only be natural for her to chase after the one with the money if we are to believe that she needs it to feel love. This is why she inevitably becomes obsessed with the politician, even after his loss of his campaign. He is still better off than her, and I believe that this is the true reason as to why she falls in love with him.
First I have to say that I found Three Monkeys to be a visually beautiful film. As in Climates, Nuri Bilge Ceylan has composed amazing shots throughout—for example, one shot which stood out (for me, at least) came during the film’s close, when Eyup is standing on his apartment terrace and a storm reminiscent of the one that takes place during the film’s opening approaches. But there is something in Ceylan’s choice of color that I felt made this film even more striking than Climates. That said, I’ll move on to other aspects of the film. In contrast to Climates, Ceylan has chosen a far more complex plot to drive Three Monkeys. Climates introduces us to a romantic involvement in the midst of collapse, and while that film is resistant to divulging the causes of said breakdown (save by way of inference), Three Monkeys is much more explicit: The audience immediately knows why Eyup (Yavuz Bingol) and Hacer’s (Hatice Aslan) marriage has become a shambles, and we understand—to a degree, at least—what leads Ismail (Ahmet Rifat Sungar), the couple’s son, to murder. The story begins with a bad turn of chance. Servet (Erean Kesal) is a politician and employer of Eyup. Servet experiences bad luck one night when, exhausted and falling asleep behind the wheel, he accidentally kills a pedestrian. Because he is in the middle of a campaign for reelection to office, he calls upon Eyup, normally his paid driver, to take the rap in exchange for a payoff. Eyup agrees to his employer’s proposition and is sentenced to nine months’ incarceration. During that time, Servet and Hacer begin an affair. Ismail discovers them and kills Servet soon after Eyup is released, and what happens next in the story is that another deal is made: Eyup promises a payment exchange to a young man named Bayram (Cafer Kose,) who is of lower social standing than Eyup’s own, and whose story we hear one night when Eyup is escaping his disintegrating domestic life at a teahouse—there will be a payment if Bayram will take the blame for Servet’s murder. It is important at this point to note that the film implies to us that Eyup and his family are members of the working class poor. We see the small apartment (comfortable as it does sometimes appear) throughout Ceylan’s film, as well as the surrounding neighborhood, and we immediately recognize this as not an economically vibrant neighborhood. In an interview with Emanuel Levy, Ceylan states that the one important political aspect of the film to him was that Servet be able to have an affair with Hacer because of his (Servet’s) actions (104). Even though political power has eluded him this time, Servet remains powerful by dint of his wealth (which is arguably more important in today’s climate than what can be found in the political sphere, though the two have never been far removed); and surely when this character’s concerns are compared to Hacer and Eyup’s, he exists in some other world. Bauman describes a situation in contemporary cities that perfectly illustrates this idea—people who live ‘in’ a place but are not ‘of’ that place, since their social statuses connect them to a wider world of global wealth and elites (74). But what happens when one of these elites becomes upset and causes the random chaos of the proverbial child who kicks over an anthill? Another proverbial concept: shit rolls downhill. In this case, Eyup must induce someone of lower status than himself to be a willing victim so that he can save his son from prison. Not unexpectedly (and actually quite satisfyingly for the sake of symmetry), there is another storm on the horizon before the credits roll.
Three Monkeys is a movie about greed and sacrifice. Everyone in Eyup’s family sacrifices something for greed. Hacer sacrifices her self-dignity for money to Eyups boss Servet whom she has an affair with. Hacer starts of not loving Servet but simply only using him for money as a means of income while her husband is in jail. Once Hacer gets accustomed to the lifestyle of having money she begins to fall for Servet, she even expresses her love for him. Servet does not feel the same, and threatens to kill Hacer out of anger. Eyup makes the ultimate sacrifice for his family and loses his family over it. The real question is why does he take the wrap for this greedy man? I think that he looks at his bosses offer as a way for his family to have stable income and a little extra money when he is released. Who would Eyup work for if Servet got arrested? In the new industrial age it is hard to find work so Eyup is pressured into taking this offer by the economic downturn in society. Eyup’s son Ismail is the one family member that breaks up the whole dynamics of the family system. Ismail wants to have a better job than the ones being offered by his mother and he later explains that having a car would help him get the money and job he wanted. Ismail asks his mom for an advance on the money to purchase this car. From this point on Hacer and Servet are introduced and the affair begins. Ismails greed pushes his mother into the hands of another man, but it also allows him to grow up and find a job. Greed affects people differently and I think this movie shows this. The mother was greedy for the comforts and security that a stable financial partner brings. The son is greedy for being selfish in his endeavors and not taking a lower income (Blue Color) job. The father is greedy for taking the offer and leaving his family, although he is being selfless in this act, his family does not repay the favor.
The film Three Monkeys (2008) expresses the distortion between the spiritual and physiological standpoints of trauma. Roberto Cardullo comments, that Ceylan “looks long and hard into the mysteries and self-destructive contradictions of the human heart.” The crime, in the film, exploits the characters suspicion among the communication of the family. Eyup (Yavuz Bingol) is in prison, his son Ismail (Ahmet Rifat Sungar) seems to be part of some gang, but the movie never establishes the exact kind of criminal acts he's a part of, and Hacer (Hatice Asian) the wife cheats, on her husband while in prison. The lies cause suspense in the film, but in the sense of otherworldly, Ceylan establishes the brother of Ismail. It presents a spiritual revelation, the arrival of the child. He is present first when Ismail seems to be daydreaming, but the atmosphere of his surrounding change. The frame of the scenery changes in color hues and his brother appears in the distant, to soon be cut to him appearing near Ismail. The way Ceylan illustrates the child through visuals characteristic makes him seem ghostly, but water is running down his head. Does this reference the child dying while in water, like drowning? Later, the film allows the viewer to know that the child is dead, for when Ismail picks up Eyup from prison says” lets see you brother on the way home.” The film cuts to the cemetery where the brother is buried. The presence is brought back when Eyup is laying down in bed, the child’s hand is wrapped around him. The film cuts to another scene then soon comes back, but the child gets up and walks away. Again illustrating a ghostly sequence, or could it be the trauma of the child dying. It seems that Ismail and Eyup have a closer connection to the child, whereas the mother never has a sequence like this throughout the movie. Does it imply that she already accepted the missing presence of her son? Three Monkeys leaves viewer with questions; brought up in different aspects because the film is indifferent. It captures various illusions and establishes different themes that contain more than one genre.
In Ceylan’s fim Three Monkeys, we are given the feeling that the family of three has gone through a lot, and the film “centers on a void…built on a foundation of absence” (Cardullo 175). Hacer’s ringtone also gives a foreshadowing over this. In the song we can hear lyrics like “I hope you love and are never loved back” and “I hope love hurts you like it hurts me,” which explains the film’s spread of misery from character to character. The ghost of Ismail’s little brother, who only appears to Eyup and Ismail, almost tells us that they did something that they feel guilty over. The little boy wants them to feel a sense of guilt and hurt like he felt when he died, which is why we see him loom over them during their hard times. Then, with Hacer and Sevet’s affair, we can see how much she loves him and how hard it was on her when he wanted things to end. His death also conveys the meaning of the song lyrics where the pain he inflicts on Hacer is also inflicted on him. During the scene when he ended the affair, Sevet threatened Hacer by saying if she came closer, he would kill her. But, she came closer anyway, showing to us that she was willing to die for his love. Therefore, his death reflects the pain Hacer felt when he did not want to be with her anymore. Besides just character stories, the song also foreshadows the full circle in narrative the film gives. The lyrics the singer presents illustrates why misery is a chain. When one character feels this misery it resonates to other characters. One instance of this is when Hacer supposedly has an affair with Sevet. As father and son discover this infidelity, there is a chain reaction and misery is transferred from one character to another. Eyup takes his feelings out on Hacer and Ismail kills Servet, both hurting Hacer in the process. However, it also stems out to Bayram, which brings us back to where we were in the beginning of the film. Eyup makes the same deal with Bayram that he made with Servet, starting the whole process again. The name of the film also describes how the family is dealing with their misfortunes. After watching the film, I immediately thought of the see no evil, say no evil, and hear no evil monkeys. These monkeys perfectly reflect what is going on in the movie. By not acknowledging the evil that is going on within their family and the people around them, it continues to fester and create more evil. By personifying the three monkeys, Eyup does not let others know about what Sevet has done and his absence creates more chances for evil to happen. This leads to Hacer having an affair and also leads to Ismail murdering Sevet. Each character pretends not to know about the evil things everyone or even they have done, which creates a chain for more bad things to happen. This in the end creates another scapegoat for Ismail’s crime. Bayram, like how Eyup was in the beginning, becomes the three monkeys, pretending that he has seen no evil and heard no evil from the family and he will say no evil about them by going to jail for them.
"The ghost of Ismail’s little brother, who only appears to Eyup and Ismail,": yes, it's interesting he doest' appear to his mother. I wonder what you make of this.
The quote that caught my attention most in the Three Monkeys (2008) interview was Ceylan's claim that "to convey certain things, the image is useless; sound suffices" (Cardullo 110). This nugget of wisdom is surprising coming from a film director, as it seems to undermine the visual, but I agree that sound has a communicative power often neglected. Three Monkeys maximizes sound's communicative potential in compelling, sometimes surreal ways, some of which I will explore here.
ReplyDeleteSome sounds - while there because they make sense to be there in the scene (e.g., train, ringtone, thunder) - also help create a particular atmosphere for the film. The train, for instance, is often heard grinding against the tracks and blaring its grating horn. These noises feed into a mood of unpleasantness and tension, giving us some insight into how the characters are feeling.
On the note of feelings, Hacer's (Hatice Asian) ringtone provides the most direct emotional cue the film has to offer. Asuman Suner writes that the lyrics "[voice] a sense of bitterness and resentment" at several elongated points throughout the film (181). It is, in many ways, Hacer's victim anthem, one she has selected for herself. The first time this "anthem" plays out, it is almost like a gag, with Hacer being unable to find the phone in her purse. Her fumbling may symbolically suggest that she is unable to stop seeing herself as a victim in the area of love, despite her efforts to silence this "anthem."
Turning to a more ominous use of sound, Ceylan punctuates the film with thunderclaps at various points, most notably at the beginning and end. By opening and closing with this sound, Ceylan signifies that little has changed. Another man has been killed, the tensions of the family remain unresolved, and the ghost of their little boy has likely not left for the last time. Thunder suggests that there is another "storm" to come, perhaps one of the legal, marital, familial, or emotional variety (or any combination thereof).
Perhaps some of these sounds are redundant, merely accenting what the visuals communicate, but they often draw more attention than the visuals themselves. I would have to rewatch the film in order to identify where these sounds echo the visuals and where they provide entirely new layers of meaning.
Speaking now of love and money, I had a difficult time analyzing the film with this focus in mind. It's possible I misunderstood the plot, but it seemed as though Hacer's affair with Servet (Ercan Kesal) was in large part financially motivated. Was Servet providing for Hacer and Ismail (Ahmet Rifat Sungar) while Eyup (Yavuz Bingol) did his time in prison? If that's the case, it would account for the large envelope of cash Ismail finds after Hacer and Servet have met up a few times. Servet is certainly a well-to-do man, as evidenced by his almost-career in politics, his nice office, and the many phone calls he gets from people he treats as his subservients (i.e., with little patience and a demanding tone). It's possible Hacer is attracted to Servet's higher class lifestyle, driving her to become obsessed with him and, conversely, to lose interest in Eyup. These are just speculations though. As I said, the "can we love without money?" lens was more challenging to view this film through.
Delete"It's possible I misunderstood the plot, but it seemed as though Hacer's affair with Servet (Ercan Kesal) was in large part financially motivated. Was Servet providing for Hacer and Ismail (Ahmet Rifat Sungar) while Eyup (Yavuz Bingol) did his time in prison?" Well, we know S paid I E's salary while E was biding his time in prison. And the deal b/w S and E was that the former would pay the latter a "lump sum" after he is out of prison. But I asks his mother to get money from S before his father returns (so he can buy a car). What I think is unclear is whether the family knows why the father is in prison--do they know the truth? If not, what is the rationale for I thinking his mother can ask S for money? I'd have to re-watch to figure this out more clearly. Maybe one of you know?
DeleteSimilar to the last film we watched, "Wendy and Lucy", I found that Ceylan's film "Three monkeys" was almost a literal tale of how one cannot love without money. In it we can see the character of Hacer change from a loving wife and mother to an obsessed adulterer who seems to chase after the one with the money. While she never expressly mentions the money, we can assume that it is the defining factor, and that the director is making a clear connection here. She seems to be unsatisfied with her sub par apartment and job, and it would only be natural for her to chase after the one with the money if we are to believe that she needs it to feel love. This is why she inevitably becomes obsessed with the politician, even after his loss of his campaign. He is still better off than her, and I believe that this is the true reason as to why she falls in love with him.
ReplyDeleteFirst I have to say that I found Three Monkeys to be a visually beautiful film. As in Climates, Nuri Bilge Ceylan has composed amazing shots throughout—for example, one shot which stood out (for me, at least) came during the film’s close, when Eyup is standing on his apartment terrace and a storm reminiscent of the one that takes place during the film’s opening approaches. But there is something in Ceylan’s choice of color that I felt made this film even more striking than Climates. That said, I’ll move on to other aspects of the film.
ReplyDeleteIn contrast to Climates, Ceylan has chosen a far more complex plot to drive Three Monkeys. Climates introduces us to a romantic involvement in the midst of collapse, and while that film is resistant to divulging the causes of said breakdown (save by way of inference), Three Monkeys is much more explicit: The audience immediately knows why Eyup (Yavuz Bingol) and Hacer’s (Hatice Aslan) marriage has become a shambles, and we understand—to a degree, at least—what leads Ismail (Ahmet Rifat Sungar), the couple’s son, to murder.
The story begins with a bad turn of chance. Servet (Erean Kesal) is a politician and employer of Eyup. Servet experiences bad luck one night when, exhausted and falling asleep behind the wheel, he accidentally kills a pedestrian. Because he is in the middle of a campaign for reelection to office, he calls upon Eyup, normally his paid driver, to take the rap in exchange for a payoff. Eyup agrees to his employer’s proposition and is sentenced to nine months’ incarceration. During that time, Servet and Hacer begin an affair. Ismail discovers them and kills Servet soon after Eyup is released, and what happens next in the story is that another deal is made: Eyup promises a payment exchange to a young man named Bayram (Cafer Kose,) who is of lower social standing than Eyup’s own, and whose story we hear one night when Eyup is escaping his disintegrating domestic life at a teahouse—there will be a payment if Bayram will take the blame for Servet’s murder.
It is important at this point to note that the film implies to us that Eyup and his family are members of the working class poor. We see the small apartment (comfortable as it does sometimes appear) throughout Ceylan’s film, as well as the surrounding neighborhood, and we immediately recognize this as not an economically vibrant neighborhood. In an interview with Emanuel Levy, Ceylan states that the one important political aspect of the film to him was that Servet be able to have an affair with Hacer because of his (Servet’s) actions (104). Even though political power has eluded him this time, Servet remains powerful by dint of his wealth (which is arguably more important in today’s climate than what can be found in the political sphere, though the two have never been far removed); and surely when this character’s concerns are compared to Hacer and Eyup’s, he exists in some other world. Bauman describes a situation in contemporary cities that perfectly illustrates this idea—people who live ‘in’ a place but are not ‘of’ that place, since their social statuses connect them to a wider world of global wealth and elites (74). But what happens when one of these elites becomes upset and causes the random chaos of the proverbial child who kicks over an anthill? Another proverbial concept: shit rolls downhill. In this case, Eyup must induce someone of lower status than himself to be a willing victim so that he can save his son from prison.
Not unexpectedly (and actually quite satisfyingly for the sake of symmetry), there is another storm on the horizon before the credits roll.
"the film implies to us that Eyup and his family are members of the working class poor." Yes, indeed.
DeleteThree Monkeys is a movie about greed and sacrifice. Everyone in Eyup’s family sacrifices something for greed. Hacer sacrifices her self-dignity for money to Eyups boss Servet whom she has an affair with. Hacer starts of not loving Servet but simply only using him for money as a means of income while her husband is in jail. Once Hacer gets accustomed to the lifestyle of having money she begins to fall for Servet, she even expresses her love for him. Servet does not feel the same, and threatens to kill Hacer out of anger. Eyup makes the ultimate sacrifice for his family and loses his family over it. The real question is why does he take the wrap for this greedy man? I think that he looks at his bosses offer as a way for his family to have stable income and a little extra money when he is released. Who would Eyup work for if Servet got arrested? In the new industrial age it is hard to find work so Eyup is pressured into taking this offer by the economic downturn in society. Eyup’s son Ismail is the one family member that breaks up the whole dynamics of the family system. Ismail wants to have a better job than the ones being offered by his mother and he later explains that having a car would help him get the money and job he wanted. Ismail asks his mom for an advance on the money to purchase this car. From this point on Hacer and Servet are introduced and the affair begins. Ismails greed pushes his mother into the hands of another man, but it also allows him to grow up and find a job. Greed affects people differently and I think this movie shows this. The mother was greedy for the comforts and security that a stable financial partner brings. The son is greedy for being selfish in his endeavors and not taking a lower income (Blue Color) job. The father is greedy for taking the offer and leaving his family, although he is being selfless in this act, his family does not repay the favor.
ReplyDeleteThe film Three Monkeys (2008) expresses the distortion between the spiritual and physiological standpoints of trauma. Roberto Cardullo comments, that Ceylan “looks long and hard into the mysteries and self-destructive contradictions of the human heart.” The crime, in the film, exploits the characters suspicion among the communication of the family. Eyup (Yavuz Bingol) is in prison, his son Ismail (Ahmet Rifat Sungar) seems to be part of some gang, but the movie never establishes the exact kind of criminal acts he's a part of, and Hacer (Hatice Asian) the wife cheats, on her husband while in prison. The lies cause suspense in the film, but in the sense of otherworldly, Ceylan establishes the brother of Ismail. It presents a spiritual revelation, the arrival of the child. He is present first when Ismail seems to be daydreaming, but the atmosphere of his surrounding change. The frame of the scenery changes in color hues and his brother appears in the distant, to soon be cut to him appearing near Ismail. The way Ceylan illustrates the child through visuals characteristic makes him seem ghostly, but water is running down his head. Does this reference the child dying while in water, like drowning? Later, the film allows the viewer to know that the child is dead, for when Ismail picks up Eyup from prison says” lets see you brother on the way home.” The film cuts to the cemetery where the brother is buried. The presence is brought back when Eyup is laying down in bed, the child’s hand is wrapped around him. The film cuts to another scene then soon comes back, but the child gets up and walks away. Again illustrating a ghostly sequence, or could it be the trauma of the child dying. It seems that Ismail and Eyup have a closer connection to the child, whereas the mother never has a sequence like this throughout the movie. Does it imply that she already accepted the missing presence of her son? Three Monkeys leaves viewer with questions; brought up in different aspects because the film is indifferent. It captures various illusions and establishes different themes that contain more than one genre.
ReplyDeleteIn Ceylan’s fim Three Monkeys, we are given the feeling that the family of three has gone through a lot, and the film “centers on a void…built on a foundation of absence” (Cardullo 175). Hacer’s ringtone also gives a foreshadowing over this. In the song we can hear lyrics like “I hope you love and are never loved back” and “I hope love hurts you like it hurts me,” which explains the film’s spread of misery from character to character. The ghost of Ismail’s little brother, who only appears to Eyup and Ismail, almost tells us that they did something that they feel guilty over. The little boy wants them to feel a sense of guilt and hurt like he felt when he died, which is why we see him loom over them during their hard times. Then, with Hacer and Sevet’s affair, we can see how much she loves him and how hard it was on her when he wanted things to end. His death also conveys the meaning of the song lyrics where the pain he inflicts on Hacer is also inflicted on him. During the scene when he ended the affair, Sevet threatened Hacer by saying if she came closer, he would kill her. But, she came closer anyway, showing to us that she was willing to die for his love. Therefore, his death reflects the pain Hacer felt when he did not want to be with her anymore. Besides just character stories, the song also foreshadows the full circle in narrative the film gives. The lyrics the singer presents illustrates why misery is a chain. When one character feels this misery it resonates to other characters. One instance of this is when Hacer supposedly has an affair with Sevet. As father and son discover this infidelity, there is a chain reaction and misery is transferred from one character to another. Eyup takes his feelings out on Hacer and Ismail kills Servet, both hurting Hacer in the process. However, it also stems out to Bayram, which brings us back to where we were in the beginning of the film. Eyup makes the same deal with Bayram that he made with Servet, starting the whole process again.
ReplyDeleteThe name of the film also describes how the family is dealing with their misfortunes. After watching the film, I immediately thought of the see no evil, say no evil, and hear no evil monkeys. These monkeys perfectly reflect what is going on in the movie. By not acknowledging the evil that is going on within their family and the people around them, it continues to fester and create more evil. By personifying the three monkeys, Eyup does not let others know about what Sevet has done and his absence creates more chances for evil to happen. This leads to Hacer having an affair and also leads to Ismail murdering Sevet. Each character pretends not to know about the evil things everyone or even they have done, which creates a chain for more bad things to happen. This in the end creates another scapegoat for Ismail’s crime. Bayram, like how Eyup was in the beginning, becomes the three monkeys, pretending that he has seen no evil and heard no evil from the family and he will say no evil about them by going to jail for them.
"The ghost of Ismail’s little brother, who only appears to Eyup and Ismail,": yes, it's interesting he doest' appear to his mother. I wonder what you make of this.
ReplyDelete