You’ve Got a Friend in Me
You’ve Got a Friend in Me: Negotiating Difference and Modes of Contact in Fatih Akın’s Auf der anderen Seite
Celia Vander Ploeg Fallon
Abstract
Fatih Akın’s 2007 film Auf der anderen Seite (The Edge of Heaven) presents a variety of German and Turkish characters whose interactions highlight shared humanity despite differing perspectives. Scholars to date have analyzed the negotiation of multiple identities across national borders in the film through either a visual or aural lens. I argue that combining insights from Muriel Cormican’s work on the “tender gaze” with an analysis of multilingualism in the film is necessary to more fully understand this theme of multiplicity. Through close examination of the relationship between Susanne and Ayten, this paper seeks to explain how the film’s cinematography and dialogue underscore a critical understanding of multiplicity of identity by meditating on what connects people while also recognizing inherent differences between them.
Fatih Akın’s 2007 film Auf der anderen Seite (The Edge of Heaven) portrays the interconnected stories of six main characters as they navigate relationships across national boundaries, languages, and generations. The film is split into three sections. The first section, “Yeter’s Death,” takes place in Germany and recounts the meeting of Ali, a Turkish guestworker, and Yeter, a Turkish sex worker. Ali offers Yeter money to live with him, an offer she eventually accepts. After living together for some time, Ali kills Yeter in a drunken rage. The second section, “Lotte’s Death,” follows Yeter’s daughter Ayten, who flees political persecution in Turkey and travels to Germany to look for her mother. Ayten is too late, for her mother is already dead, but she ends up meeting and falling in love with a German university student named Lotte. After Ayten is deported back to Turkey and imprisoned, Lotte follows her to try to help. Unfortunately, Lotte is killed while trying to assist Ayten’s political movement. In the third section, “The Edge of Heaven (Auf der anderen Seite)”, Lotte’s mother Susanne travels to Turkey to help Ayten. Susanne meets Ali’s son Nejat who rejected his father after Yeter’s murder, moved to Turkey, and coincidentally rented out a room in his apartment to Lotte. Susanne successfully gets Ayten out of jail and a discussion between Susanne and Nejat leads him to try to reconcile with his father.
Scholars have often analyzed this movie either by focusing on its visual material or its dialogue. However, combining an analysis of both that is grounded in what Muriel Cormican has identified as “the tender gaze” with an analysis of multilingualism in the film is necessary for understanding how the movie portrays multiplicity through and across the visual/audial divide. Such a focus on multiplicity invites viewers to consider alternate positionalities and find compassion for fellow human beings despite differing life paths. The depiction of Susanne and Ayten’s relationship in Auf der anderen Seite exemplifies the multiplicity of identity within each character and shows how the two eventually connect while recognizing their difference.
Cormican theorizes a new way of looking at film through the paradigm of a tender gaze. She writes, “The tender gaze does not condescend or reify, it seeks to avoid eroticizing or exoticizing, encourages reorientations and realignments of perspective, and invites the viewer to cast a compassionate rather than a cold eye on others” (Cormican 17). Cormican offers this gaze as an analytic category that helps us discuss a form of looking that stands alongside Laura Mulvey’s conception of the male gaze and bell hooks’ conception of an oppositional gaze (Mulvey 11, hooks 122). The tender gaze is present in movies that ask characters and viewers to consider different points of view and motivations for character action. Cormican turns to the example of Ali and Yeter’s relationship in Auf der anderen Seite to flesh out her idea. She begins by noting, “Auf der anderen Seite—the title (“on the other side/hand”) even speaks to the theme of points of view, literal and metaphorical—implies repeatedly that people’s stories offer distinctive positionalities that add perspective to our understandings of the interiority of others” (Cormican 32). Cormican goes on to analyze the scene where Ali is visibly moved by reading The Blacksmith’s Daughter, which shows his dawning comprehension of how he failed Yeter. For Cormican, “Akın underscores here that what we see is partial and that the reduction of another human being to a function, be it sex worker or sexist male manslaughterer, elides interiority and obscures important details” (Cormican 29). Just as the film shows Ali coming to a new understanding of Yeter, the film also highlights the tension but eventual connection between Susanne and Ayten and thus they too can be analyzed through the tender gaze.
However, the consideration of Ayten and Susanne’s relationship is incomplete without acknowledging the language each uses in making sense of the other. In fact, the presence of multilingualism in the film accompanies the theme of perspective taking and understanding introduced through the visual tender gaze. Susanne and Ayten have to speak to each other in English because neither understands the other’s first language. The act of choosing which language to converse in is an act of understanding and adapting to different cultural backgrounds. The structural function of multilingualism in the film has been addressed by David Gramling as part of a project analyzing multilingualism across multiple Akın films. In contrast to my argument, Gramling focuses on incomprehensibility between characters instead of moments of comprehension. They write, “Among the overlapping webs of kinship in Auf der anderen Seite, no one strives toward a common language. Mutual incomprehensibility remains both a perceptual resource for—and an emotional texture of—relationships across generational, heritage, gender, and physical distances” (Gramling 367). Mutual incomprehensibility is surely present in the first scene between Ayten and Susanne in Susanne’s kitchen. Neither ends the conversation having reached an understanding with the other. However, the rest of the movie shows that the resolution of Susanne and Ayten’s relationship comes from moving away from ‘mutual incomprehensibility’ in the search for common understanding.
Susanne and Ayten’s first lengthy conversation involves a breakdown of understanding and a refusal of both to take the perspective of the other, which is further complicated by their inability to communicate using their first languages. In the scene, Ayten makes coffee in the kitchen at Lotte and Susanne’s house as Susanne pits cherries sitting at a table (Akın 58:16). Susanne tries to make conversation with Ayten by saying she heard from Lotte that Ayten was being politically persecuted in Turkey. The conversation becomes antagonistic when Susanne suggests, “Maybe things will get better when you join the European Union,” and Ayten rejoins with “Ah, I don’t trust the European Union” (Akın). These differing political perspectives create the basis for the opposition between the two. This is visually reinforced by the fact that the framing switches from showing both Susanne and Ayten in one frame to separating them: cutting between close-ups featuring each woman’s face individually for the rest of the conversation. While neither Ayten nor Susanne look at each other with the tender gaze in this scene, the cutting invites viewers to switch between Ayten’s and Susanne’s points of view, which is a technique of the tender gaze. The original animosity between the two, indexed visually in this scene, makes their eventual solidarity all the more striking.
The fact that English is the non-native language for both of the speakers is noticeable in the scene since both speak with accents. As the argument continues, Ayten attempts to get through to Susanne by using the word “folk” or “Volk.” She says, “If a country kills the people, the f/volk… you have to fight back” (Akın). This can be read as a moment of translation from English into German because Ayten is repeating information. “Volk” means “people” and therefore does not need to be said twice. However, by repeating the same idea, once with the English word “people” and again with an English/German cognate like “Volk,” Ayten recognizes and reaches across the linguistic divide by saying at least one word in Susanne’s native language. Susanne does not react to this attempt at connection. This could be partially due to the fact that Ayten’s use of the word “Volk,” which is often associated with racially and ethnically exclusionary conceptions of Germanness, actually reminds Susanne of the cultural divide between the two. Susanne chooses to respond intransigently to Ayten’s impassioned reasoning for political resistance with a repetition of “Maybe everything will get better once you get into European Union” (Akın). At this point, Ayten says, “Yeah fuck the European Union,” to which Susanne responds, “I don’t want you to talk like that in my house” (Akın). Susanne ends the conversation by controlling Ayten’s language. The visuals and linguistic choices in this scene highlight the initial disconnect between Ayten, a Turkish speaker in a foreign country, and Susanne, a German speaker in her own kitchen.
Nonetheless, in the wake of Lotte’s death, Susanne decides to help Ayten, and the two connect over their shared grief. While some would argue this relationship is emblematic of the film’s affirmative politics because Ayten eventually softens her political position, Hester Baer pushes against this by saying that Susanne’s change of heart toward Ayten “vindicates Ayten’s political critique of the hypocrisy of European values” (276). Baer’s argument that the film is more complicated than a simple affirmative reading admits is compelling. Susanne and Ayten’s reconciliation at the prison visually and linguistically manages difference and similarity in a way that invites viewers to see connection while recognizing disparity. This reinforces the idea that the film formally rejects an all-encompassing reading and encourages multiple interpretations.
While Baer effectively highlights the visual emphasis on positionality in the prison scene, she forgoes an analysis of the visual emphasis on communication. After Lotte’s death, Susanne travels to Turkey to visit Ayten in prison and promises to help free her. As the two speak, close-ups of Susanne also include the superimposition of Ayten’s face (Akın 1:38:28). For Baer, “…the superimposed faces of Ayten and Susanne similarly register incommensurable positionalities (in terms of political affiliation, generation, class, race, religion, and citizenship, as well as incarceration) but also similarity across difference…” (276). This superimposition is emblematic of the tender gaze. As Baer points out, it creates visual similarity out of two women who have been characterized thus far by their differences. Additionally, by aligning the reflection of Ayten’s mouth with Susanne’s eyes the shot emphasizes two important parts of human communication and connection: eye contact and spoken word. Looking directly at Ayten, Susanne clearly voices her change of perspective. As Susanne says, “This is what she [Lotte] wanted,” the camera focuses on Ayten in a medium close-up (Akın 1:39:00). Finishing the sentence, “and this is what I want now,” the camera cuts to the superimposition visually reinforcing the hope for connection through the commingling of Ayten and Susanne’s faces. Yet, this superimposition is only made possible by the reflection from the glass separating Susanne and Ayten. The two can come together and communicate through the glass, but it is still a barrier. As such, the film visually hints at the cultural and linguistic divide that still separates the two in their moment of connection.
Susanne and Ayten’s positionalities are not only indexed visually in this scene but also linguistically. The film often highlights multitudes of perspectives through the accents of the characters. In her analysis of globalization in the film, Barbara Mennel writes,
In The Edge of Heaven accent results from the characters’ location in space and time, an effect of their mobility, which in turn defines their relationships to each other. The accents of individual figures are either audible or not, appear and disappear, depending on where the figures are located, and which of the three languages, German, Turkish, or English they speak. (Mennel)
Mennel rightly points out that the languages of each character depend not only on their own cultural background, but also who they are addressing. As such, conversing in the movie is a complex negotiation of meaning across cultures and an acknowledgment of positionality. In the prison this difficulty of communication is very clear. The linguistic texture enhances the emotional depth of the scene as both characters struggle to express their grief in their second language. Ayten is forced to operate in short, staccato sentences: “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want. Forgive me. Forgive me” (Akın). Susanne is also constrained in trying to comfort Ayten. She says, “Stop hurting yourself,” to tell Ayten to forgive herself for complicity in Lotte’s death. Ayten and Susanne share their discomfort in English which is a commonality born of their differing native languages. As such, the film recognizes this inherent linguistic difference between Ayten and Susanne but does not portray it as a hindrance, because Ayten and Susanne leave this conversation with a newly formed emotional bond.
In the final scene between Susanne and Ayten at the bookshop, their newfound bond is demonstrated visually and linguistically. The scene opens with a long shot of Susanne and Ayten who stand centered in the frame facing each other (Akın 1:47:05). The two shake hands and Susanne keeps hold of Ayten’s hand. This physical connection accompanies Susanne’s inquiry into how Ayten is and if she has a place to stay. Susanne tells Ayten, in English, that she can stay with her and awkwardly pronounces the Turkish name of the neighborhood where they can stay. Ayten smiles slightly and repeats the name back to Susanne with the proper pronunciation. Susanne and Ayten then hug and Susanne repeats Ayten’s pronunciation of the place. The language use in the scene emphasizes the switch between the Susanne at the beginning, who hardly listened to Ayten and certainly did not adjust her speech for her, to the Susanne at the end, who learns from Ayten’s correction of her pronunciation mistake and tries to rectify it. Susanne and Ayten work together in this exchange to reach a shared meaning; the two women mutually voice and agree upon the pronunciation of the neighborhood. This can be interpreted as a step in the direction of mutual understanding. The presence of the tender gaze in this scene visually parallels the linguistic coming together of the two. Susanne and Ayten step from their places on either side of the midpoint of the frame to an embrace directly in the middle of the frame. This enacts a visual joining contrasting their previously individual framings earlier in the film. The camera also gradually zooms in from the long shot showing the two standing in the bookstore to a medium close-up with their clasped hands anchoring the bottom of the screen which brings viewers closer to the pair as they become closer to each other. Literally focusing in on Ayten and Susanne’s hug and compassion for one another foregrounds the tender gaze. In the bookshop, language and visual complement one another to bring Ayten and Susanne together.
Throughout the film, Susanne and Ayten move from political opposites, who frostily cohabitate, to a quasi-mother-daughter pair ready to live together in Istanbul. The film title itself emphasizes the navigation of sides or viewpoints, which is fleshed out by conflicts caused by Susanne’s and Ayten’s multiple identities and languages. Nonetheless, a visual and linguistic analysis of the movie shows how people can come together across these differences—an analysis that is further validated by the film’s own choice to superimpose eye and mouth in the prison scene. As such, the film unites visual and linguistic elements to promote connection while acknowledging different positionalities.
Works Cited
Akın, Fatih. Auf der anderen Seite. Pandora Film, 2007.
Baer, Hester. German Cinema in the Age of Neoliberalism. Amsterdam University Press, 2021.
Cormican, Muriel. “Toward a Theory of the Tender Gaze: Affect, Critical Insight, and Empathy in Contemporary German Cinema.” The Tender Gaze: Compassionate Encounters on the German Screen, Page, and Stage, eds. Muriel Cormican and Jennifer Marston William. Rochester: Camden House, 2021, pp. 17–39.
Gramling, David. “On the Other Side of Monolingualism: Fatih Akın’s Linguistic Turn(s).” German Quarterly vol. 83, no. 3, 2010, pp. 353–72.
hooks, bell. Black Looks: Race and Representation. South End Press, 1992.
Mennel, Barbara. “Criss-Crossing in Global Space and Time: Fatih Akın’s The Edge of Heaven (2007).” Transit, vol. 5, no. 1, 2010, pp. 1-27.
Mulvey, Laura. “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.” Screen, vol. 16, no. 3, 1975, pp. 6-18.
Celia Vander Ploeg Fallon is an undergraduate student majoring in German at Carleton College.
Picture: “Çömlekçi Trabzon 1877.” Source: TM’s Public Domain Pictures.
