After three years of studying anthropology, I was finally able to define it as “living amongst various cultures to discover that which makes us different and that which makes us the same.” Nowadays I could just add, ‘or stay at home watching Netflix.’
When the cultural behemoth’s bosses started commissioning local productions in their markets, I’m sure they hoped that some of that content would also appeal to a world stage, but even they must have been surprised at how the likes of Money Heist, Lupin, and Squid Game have smashed through the subtitle divide. The Club, or Kulüp in its native Turkey, is unlikely to reach similar heights, but that’s only because rather than trying to beat the West at its own game, it makes the trickier demand that the West comes to it.
The setting of this six-part mystery — 1950s Istanbul — also helps place it at the the fulcrum of west and east, modernity and tradition. And you know who else resides in that space? That’s right, regular readers, Jews. In this case Turkish Jews, privileging us with a welcome window into the Sephardi Ladino- speaking community, where we get to delve into our own version of what makes us different and what makes us the same. Yup they’ve also got candles, and Shabbat, and cold blooded murderers…wait what?
In this whodunnit, or rather, opening on our killer committing the crime, whydunnit, we’re introduced to Mathilda, played by Turkish star Gökçe Bahadir. It took me an hour to work out how to type that correctly so I’m just going to go ahead and say that all the actors are excellent, and if you want to find out more, visit imdb.com. Seventeen years later Mathilda’s released from prison, set on emigrating to Israel. Events transpire to pull her back into the orbit of the daughter she gave up for adoption, then a job in a night-club that has plans to change the face of world entertainment, by 20 years after Cabaret, inventing cabaret. All the while nuggets are dropped as to what happened in the past to explain why Mathilde did what she did. And how that might connect to the manager of the club who’s seemingly now taking his revenge, by making her do the laundry.
There’s a lot going on, with multiple plots and characters intertwining, which also necessitates a fair amount of setup before things can get going. That it takes its time is a sign of deserved confidence, but it’s a different pace than you might be used to. The beautifully crafted shots, styling, and direction, are all at Hollywood levels, but it is its own thing. It’s a Turkish thing, and it turns out Turkey, and the large Turkish community in Israel where The Club creator’s previous work was a big hit, has a taste for melodrama. Music a little bit too noticeable, plotting maybe a tad too coincidental, dialogue with a flavour of poetry; it doesn’t make it bad, just different. So if you fancy a bit of anthropology, sit on your sofa, and let yourself blend in with the locals.
