Itiraf, the fifth film of Zeki Demirkubuz, is not satisfactory as the previous works of the director, especially as Yazgi or Masumiyet. However, concerning the topic itself, since it focuses on a quite absorbing subject matter i.e. confession as a one of day-to-day problems of mutual relationships, the film deserves much more attention. On the other hand, particular technical deficiencies, especially too long scenes and shortage of a holistic standpoint in the screenplay make it average. It is easy to say Demirkubuz's films are usually concentrate on acting. However, in Itiraf, although the performances in the leading parts, of Taner Birsel and Basak Koklukaya, are above average, they cannot make the film better off. Simply because, Demirkubuz is better in making films on specific events. When he attempts to make a film on one of perplexing issues of human relations, he is bound to heavily trust on the performances of the cast and extraordinary events in the screenplay. For instance, despite having a claim of being a realist tragedy, the film has several exaggerated and surrealist events simultaneously. In my opinion, by using the same scenario, surely after cutting the unnecessary parts of it, it had better make a short film; because the film by this version seems to be a preliminary work frankly.

Extending the notion of imprisonment, explored in his previous movies, Zeki Demirkubuz's ITIRAF (CONFESSION) looks at emotional imprisonment through the portrayal of Harun (Taner Birsel),an Ankara office- worker with a pathological inability to admit the truth about himself to himself.

As he drives along anonymous roads, his side profile framed in close-up, his face remains expressionless, almost as if trying to maintain a respectable facade. Demirkubuz regularly employs this shot to summarize the monotony of his existence; he travels from place to place without ever attaining emotional or physical satisfaction.

As the action begins, we understand that he is acting strangely, as he leaves his hotel room late at night to return home to his wife Nermin (Basak Köklükaya),and subsequently pretends to be sleeping when she returns home. Although well-liked in the office, especially by colleague Süha (Iskender Altin),he never has sufficient confidence in his friend to be able to admit anything. Instead he tries to pass the time by phoning Nermin and then not saying anything.

Perhaps his discomfort is due to jealousy. In an uncomfortably long sequence taking place at the family apartment, we are led to believe that this is so as Harun vents his frustration, Othello-like, on the hapless Nermin. Alternately violent yet crying like a child, he cannot forgive her for her apparent infidelity. As the sequence unfolds, however, we discover that both of them have a past that neither of them really wants to talk about involving their mutual friend Taylan (who never appears in the film but only as a photograph),an unfortunate victim who committed suicide as a result. This is the "confession" that neither Harun nor Nermin can make; to admit to themselves their culpability in causing this tragedy.

In an attempt to expiate himself, Harun visits Taylan's family in rural Anatolia, but gets brutally told to "piss off" by Taylan's mother (Gulgun Kutlu),and attacked by one of her sons. He returns to Süha's house, and Demirkubuz cuts to a close-up of blood oozing out of Harun's foot. This is a metaphor of the central character's state of mind; he not only has blood on his hands but blood on his feet also.

ITIRAF comes to a sort of conclusion, but it's clear that Harun has not learned anything as a result. He still remains fundamentally self-centered, a prisoner of his narcissism. By comparison with Demirkubuz's earlier work, the film is much more violent, as it suggests that the darkness surrounding people living in the contemporary Republic of Turkey is as much mental as well as physical.

What an interesting movie. I did not expect to be surprised this way. There are certainly some imperfections but the script works fine for the most part, the acting is unanimously good and the unfolding story is different. Also... I believe the use of lighting indoors and in night times somehow doubled the feeling of voyeurism ( the 'I am not supposed to watch this' feeling) I experienced when the couple were either fighting or pretending to be asleep when they weren't. What derived from this feeling was an enhanced interest in their lives.

Step by step we are being drawn into the dark core of a man twisted by both love and guilt. Consumed with guilt, he can't sustain a normal relationship with his wife who eventually leaves him for another man. Consumed with love he breaks every rule and damns himself to a vicious cycle of love and hate. He believes salvation will come thru confession ( this is also why he forces the wife to confess her adultery) but is confession really all that soul-cleansing? or is it equally beneficial for both parties involved? If you have a secret sin eating you out Itiraf will give you something to think about.

I have to say I loved the part of the male character. He was very much real, with a lot of defects and a weak personality but he also had a huge ego and a pretentious act ( Wasn't he the one betraying his best friend in the first place?). Oh yes! Flawed characters are a bliss, they make me forget my own shortcomings!

The themes of unreciprocated love and socially incorrect women come back in Itiraf too. And it is precisely what I hated about the film. It is a bit boring and slightly off balance to see Nilgun go from what looks like upper middle class to low class in a matter of minutes as the direct result of her being unfaithful. I understand the need to lower the wife's standing so the husband can go back to her but it borders sexism therefore not nice, nor is this an old fashioned Turkish movie where all kinds of incredibly horrible things happen to people.

All in all Itiraf is a decent movie worth the watch. I definitely recommend it.