by Douglas
Messerli
Ferzan Özpetek, Stefano Tummolini, and Aldo Sambrell (screenwriters,
based on a story by Ferzan Özpetek), Ferzan Özpetek (director) Hamam (Il bagno turco) (Steam: The Turkish Bath) / 1997, USA
1998
Hamam,
Italian-Turkish Özpetek’s directorial debut, is not near as good as several of
his later films, but like most of his works, still has a great deal of charm.
Out of the blue,
Francesco receives word that his “black sheep” aunt, who early in her life ran
off to live Istanbul, has died, leaving him her property. Against his
inclination, he determines to travel to Istanbul to quickly sell it off so that
he can get back to work.
Arriving in the
magical Turkish city, Francesco soon finds that the potential buyer is lowering
her bid, and that he cannot immediately get rid of the property. Having a day
or so to meander through the city, he gradually discovers the city’s beauty. An
older man accosts him on the street, asking Francesco to help him to the local
hamam, a Turkish bath, so that he can get some water. Once there, he invites
the Italian to take a look about the place, recommending that he find time to
take advantage of the ancient luxury, slowly going out of style. Francesco is
somewhat appalled by the reclining male bodies, but is clearly fascinated
nonetheless.
Francesco is
intrigued by her statements and, when he discovers that the potential purchaser
is also attempting to buy up the entire neighborhood in order to build a huge
trade center, he bulks at selling, determining, with Mehmet’s help, to
refurbish the steam bath to its original glory. The lawyer who has worked to
close the sale, warns him that his decision is a mistake, that the potential
buyer is “a dangerous woman,” but Francesco is not dissuaded and with Mehmet
begins the repairs. What is also apparent through their stares is that he and
Mehmet are developing a relationship.
Obviously she must reveal her own adultery
and leave, but before she can do so, men arrive at the hamam door, stabbing
Francesco to death—obviously killers hired by the “dangerous woman” whose
exploitation of the area he has thwarted.
Marta, in turn,
having discovered another Francesco in Istanbul that did exist in Italy, has
discovered a new love for him, and willingly stays on in Istanbul to finish the
project her husband had begun, perhaps turning into another woman like
Francesco’s aunt, who has found a new world in which she feels at home.
My only problem with Özpetek’s romantically
dark tale is that, just as in his second 2001 feature, The Ignorant Fairies, the adulterer who crosses sexual lines seems
to have to die, as if it were necessary to punish the transgression. At least
in the later film, the central character lives on the spirit of the small
community with whom he shared his second love; in Hamam, we never get to really know Mehmet or have the opportunity
to perceive why Francesco, other than Memet’s beauty, has fallen in love so
deeply that he has changed his sexual orientation. Even Francesco’s new found
love of Istanbul is left purposely vague, as if simply walking through the city
streets has helped to recover his life. I’m willing to take it on faith that
the idyllic world into which he has suddenly landed and in which Marta later
finds herself immersed, is responsible for both their conversions, but it would
have been nice to have explored that idyll just a bit more deeply or, even, to
have allowed their transformations to occur alongside just a few flaws. Perhaps
Özpetek is suggesting that an occasional change in geography (and sexual orientation)
does wonders for anyone.
Los Angeles,
July 27, 2012
Reprinted from International
Cinema Review (July 2012).
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