afinidades (Yeşilçam )

não conhecia as afinidades entre turcos e italianos (que já tinha visto em White Castle), a quem os primeiros chamam afectuosamente os turcos da europa. como não conhecia a afinidade entre as "salas" de cinema de rua na Itália dos anos cinquenta com as mesmas salas improvisadas nos jardins dos bairros pobres de Istambul que então viam o  cinema turco (vs. cinema ocidental).

"But I don't want to produce that sort of film.", diz Feridun, o marido.
What sort of film would that be?
Commercial, melodramatic, mass audience stuff. Don't you ever go to Turkish Films?



(legendas precisavam-se para este Kosmos de Reha Erdem, 2009)

"One warm evening we went to the Yeni İpek Cinema, located in a long and narrow garden squeezed between the shanties near İhlamur Palace and the backstreets of Nişantaşı, where we sat under the mulberry trees to watch The Agony of Love Ends with Death and a second melodrama, Listen to My Crying Heart, featuring the child star Papatya. As we sat holding our soft drinks during the intermission, Feridun mentioned that the tough guy with the thin mustache playing the crooked accountant in the first film was a friend of his, and was willing to play a similar role in our film. This was the point I realized it would be very difficult for me to enter the Yeşilçam film world purely for the sake of being close to Füsun.

My evasive eyes lit on one of the balconies overlooking the cinema garden, and from the black curtains obscuring its door I realized that this old wooden house was one of Nişantaşı’s two most secret and exclusive backstreet brothels. The girls there loved to joke about how, on summer nights, as they lay with their rich gentleman clients, their cries of love would mingle with the music on the sound track, and the clashing of swords, and actors declaring, “I can see, I can see” in melodramas featuring a pair of sightless eyes suddenly opened. The house had once belonged to a famous Jewish merchant, and his former parlor now served as a waiting room, so whenever the high-spirited, mini-skirted girls got bored, they could go up to one of the empty rooms in the back and watch the film from the balcony.

At the little Yıldız Garden Cinema in Şehzadebaşı, overflowing balconies surrounded the garden on all three sides, in a way that recalled boxes at La Scala. Once, during a scene from My Love and My Pride, a father was castigating his son (“If you marry that good-for-nothing shopgirl I will cut you out of my will and disown you!”), while an argument broke out on one of the balconies, causing some of us to confuse the two disputes. In the Yaz Çiçek Cinema Garden, just next to the wintertime Çiçek Cinema in Karagümrük, we watched The Old Lady Who Sells Simits, whose screenplay was written by son-in-law Feridun, based, he told us, on a new adaptation of the novel The Bread Seller Woman by Xavier de Montépin. This time it was not Türkan Şoray in the leading role but Fatma Girik, and just above us there was a fatso father unhappy with this state of affairs, so as he sat there in his underwear on the balcony, surrounded by his family, drinking his rakı and eating his mezes, he kept saying, “Now would Türkan ever have deigned to play the part like this? Not on your life, brother, what a travesty!” To make matters worse, having seen the film the previous evening, he kept sarcastically announcing what was about to happen, in a voice loud enough for the entire audience to hear. When drawn into a shouting match with those below who pleaded, “Shhh, shut up so we can watch the film,” he scorned the film all the more, picking fights with the audience. "

Pamuk em The Museum of Innocence


..[C]rying was an invention of the late eighteenth century” writes Joan Copjec, in relation to the emergence of melodrama as a new literary form in France. She admits that people, of course, cried before then, but in the late 18th century there was “a general social incitement to cry” due to the social changes brought about by the French Revolution. Similarly, Peter Brooks traces the origins of modern melodrama to the French Revolution and argues that the emergence of melodrama as a popular genre, or mode, was related to the increasing need for the establishment of moral codes during a time of modernity, when the traditional idea of the “sacred” represented by the monarchy and the Church was shattered.
interessante artigo, aqui-