As Daryo earlier reported, Türkiye's film director, Derviş Zaim, at the 15th International Film Festival in Tashkent, Uzbekistan, spoke about his approach to drawing inspiration from various sources. One of his recent films, 'Tavuri', released in 2023, delves into the life of Mustafa Serttaş, a well-known thief and fraudster who spent much of his life behind bars.

While the movie has been released in Türkiye and neighbouring countries, it has yet to be shown in Central Asia's most populous state, Uzbekistan.

To provide an overview of the film, including Zaim's inspiration for the project, technical aspects of the filming process, narrative structure, filming locations, and the director's plans, a Daryo correspondent, Albina Gimranova, contacted Izmir-based Psikesinema Dergisi columnist, Didem Peker Başaran, as Başaran conducted an original interview with Derviş Zaim on the 'Tavuri' documentary production.

Didem Peker Başaran agreed to collaborate with Uzbekistan's colleague by kindly sharing her original story, 'Derviş Zaim’le Ledra Sokağı’ndan Tavuri belgeseline' ('From Ledra Street to the Tavuri documentary with Derviş Zaim'), with Daryo, enabling the media to translate the director's insight of the filming process and the character for Uzbekistan's audience and beyond.  Evren Maner, a film director, and Semiha Başar, the subscriber manager of Psikesinema Dergisi, were instrumental in enabling the collaboration.

In an interview with Didem Peker Başaran, Derviş Zaim highlighted that 'getting a Cypriot trial from Zaim's childhood came to the screen through encounters with Mustafa Serttaş', who inspired the documentary.

Serttaş, born in 1965 in a low-income family in Famagusta, Cyprus, had a troubled childhood. The film director had known Serttaş from childhood in Yenişehir, Famagusta, where he migrated after the 1974 war. He reconnected with Serttaş in 2014 through a journalist, Aral Moral, who had previously written a book about Zaim's character.

With this in mind, Daryo's correspondent contacted Aral Moral to learn more about his connection with Mustafa Serttaş.

From 2006 to 2011, Aral Moral worked as a reporter in various local newspapers, and Mustafa Serttaş frequently appeared in news headlines. Aral Moral wanted to know more about Mustafa Serttaş beyond his public image and criminal activities.

Delving into his personal life, Aral Moral sought to uncover details about Mustafa Serttaş's childhood, his relationship with his parents and siblings, and other aspects that would help the author understand Mustafa Serttaş better:

It was this interest in the human side of people that drove me to write my book, which I started working on during my tenure as the Head of the Press Office of the TRNC Presidency. Getting to know Mustafa Serttaş was the most exciting part. His personality had a lot of depth. As I got to know him better, I began to see the childhood problems he had with his parents. However, on the other hand, he was a pure psychopath with no regret about what he had done. I conducted a series of interviews with him in 2012, but it took almost two and a half years to complete due to his frequent unavailability. Every time I tried to contact him, he seemed to be lost in his own world. It wasn't until one day that I found out he was in prison in Southern Cyprus. I had to wait for two more years to complete the book. Despite the long wait, he was surprisingly okay with the book, as he was willing to share his side of the story.

41-year-old Aral Moral, a father of two sons who currently runs his family business, spoke with the Daryo correspondent on October 21, 2023. 

The seven-time prize-winning reporter Aral Moral revealed that during his time at the Press Office of the TRNC Presidency, a close friend of Derviş Zaim, who was also the Undersecretary of the President, called Aral Moral to his office. That's how the meeting occurred between the author of the 'Tavuri' book and the director of the 'Tavuri' documentary, Aral Moral and Derviş Zaim.

While filming life in prison, the Director of Photography, Fuat Sözen, recognized the importance of building trust with the inmates and making them feel comfortable. He noted that life in prison is a harrowing experience that regular individuals cannot easily observe.

Fuat Sözen also mentioned that Mustafa Serttaş had a complex personality, often struggling between good and evil and trying to help those in need.

It was precisely Sözen who introduced filmmaker Evren Maner to Derviş Zaim for the Tavuri documentary project, as they needed an additional professional to assist with the filming process. 

Filmmaker Evren Maner had heard of Mustafa Serttaş since childhood through stories, news, and people's accounts.

Meeting him in person and filming him did not come as a surprise to me. I was delighted to witness such a smart and humorous thief during filming, as he kept cracking jokes. On one occasion, a man told Tavuri that he couldn't steal his TV set while he was watching it. Tavuri replied confidently that he could. He switched off the antenna, which made the TV display unclear. While the man went upstairs to fix the antenna, Tavuri made away with the TV set. However, we must not view Tavuri's story from a comedic angle. He was a thief who robbed innocent people. We ought to regard his tale as a tragedy.

When we went to London to document his life with his family, everyone realized that Tavuri's days were numbered due to his diabetes. He did not adhere to a proper diet, consuming British breakfasts, chocolates, and other unhealthy foods that put his health at risk. I had the opportunity to witness the last days of a famed thief, Tavuri, while filming him in UK's capital.

During filming, I observed that his relatives were constantly fighting, causing me to experience a panic attack at times. Despite my discomfort, we had to continue filming, and the film shows that their fights were about money due to jealousy. However, I believed that there was more to it than that. I perceived that the entire family was working together to organize robbery or looting, with Tavuri being just a pawn. The family provided him with information, and he would rob accordingly.

When we last visited Tavuri in prison to film his life, he appeared powerless. It was like witnessing the fall of a king. I believe that he knew he was coming to the end of his life, yet he refused to accept it.

Friends and colleagues warned me to be cautious around him and never let him steal anything from our team. However, he never did.

At times, he referred to himself as Robin Hood, but in reality, Robin Hood never stole from innocent children or cheated people.

Tavuri always claimed that he was inspired by 'Arsene Lupin' by French author Maurice Leblanc, though I doubt if he ever read the book. He would collect personal information about people before robbing them. 

Filmmaker and academician Mert Özlük has collaborated with Derviş Zaim for over a decade in academia and the film industry. In particular, Özlük and Zaim have worked together on projects counting 'Shadows and Faces' ('Gölgeler ve Suretler'), 'Cycle' ('Devir'), 'Dream' ('Rüya') and 'Tavuri'. It was a journey of eight years, five of which were entirely dedicated to shooting, as Mert Özlük revealed to Daryo correspondent.

Tavuri was an exceptional project that we accomplished through guerrilla shooting techniques with a small team of up to five individuals. I assisted the director and producer, Derviş Zaim, and acted as an additional cameraman whenever required. I also had the opportunity to work as a casting director. It was fascinating to work on Tavuri, as we had many unexpected and captivating moments during the shooting.

Before collaborating on the Tavuri project, I had the chance to examine Zaim's cinematography as a participant observer. However, working on Tavuri as a documentary filmmaker helped me appreciate his contributions better. I am thankful to him and the entire team for their hard work and dedication.

We worked with a large team of actors, and some scenes had to be cut during editing. Given the five-year-long shooting process, it is no surprise that the documentary underwent exceptional editing.

Lastly, we shot a court scene at Eastern Mediterranean University's (EMU) Law School, and we chose the judge and prosecutor's characters from teachers and EMU employees. After the shooting, we learned that Mustafa Serttaş had taken the number of one of the teachers and attempted to defraud them. Though Derviş Zaim had warned the team to be cautious, this incident still came as a surprise.

Film, TV Composer and Music Producer Marios Takoushis' music was instrumental in creating a fitting atmosphere for the documentary. It effectively guided the audience's focus towards specific aspects, bolstered or hinted at narrative progressions, assigned significance to Mustafa Serttaş's actions, unveiled the character's thoughts, and elicited emotions in the viewers. 

Reflecting on my 14-year collaboration with Derviş Zaim has been an inspiring journey, particularly when it comes to crafting the music for his latest project, 'Tavuri.'

Derviş's creativity has consistently sparked my own, pushing me to delve deep into the essence of his characters. In the case of 'Tavuri,' I was captivated by the rawness of the protagonist's nature, and I set out to translate this intensity into the musical score. Opting for a minimalist approach, I carefully selected solo percussion elements, seamlessly blending electronic and acoustic sounds in most tracks. The deliberate simplicity of the compositions aimed to strike a chord with the audience, evoking a visceral response that resonates with the documentary's central character. Each beat and rhythm was meticulously crafted to create an emotional resonance, ensuring that the music not only complemented the visuals but also served as a powerful narrative force, guiding viewers through the story with an impactful and poignant soundtrack. 

Working on this project reaffirmed my belief in the potency of simplicity, showcasing how even the most minimal musical elements can leave a lasting imprint on the viewer's soul, enhancing the documentary's impact and staying with the audience long after the credits roll.

Derviş Zaim was granted official permission to visit Mustafa Serttaş in prison. The film director collaborated with the Director of Photography, Fuat Sözen, and Filmmaker Evren Maner from Quip Production to record their conversations. The recorded material eventually led to the creation of a documentary film. At first, the project was meant to be a mutual speech format, but it later evolved into an observer documentary.

During a conversation with Didem Peker Başaran, Derviş Zaim explained why he incorporated the Cypriot trace from his childhood into his recent film. Zaim stated that by providing information about the character inspired by 'Tavuri', he could offer a more comprehensive response to the project's birth:

Born in 1965 in Famagusta, Mustafa Serttaş came from a low-income family.   His nickname from childhood was Tavuri, which means "devil". His parents separated when he was a child. He left primary school and started stealing, though he was known for not resorting to violence.

While outside, he lives a luxurious, boner and extravagant life. Psychologists diagnosed him with an antisocial personality disorder. He spent much of his life in the Central Jail of Nicosia, defrauding it twice at different times. He became the only prisoner in the world who robbed the prison he was serving in during two separate prison terms. Serttaş was infamous for robbing official institutions such as schools, courts, and police headquarters.  He passed away in 2019.

I knew Mustafa Serttaş from the Yenişehir district of Famagusta, where I started living at age ten; after the 1974 war, I migrated from Limassol to Famagusta with my family and knew Tavuri in the neighbourhood where we just moved. We all could witness how Tavuri became a thief as we used to hear that he committed more frequent and severe crimes. As his age progressed, he fell into prison. Decades have passed. He became the most barrel thief and crook in the country. At that time, we were completely disconnected.

Seeing him again falls to 2014. He had just left Nicosia's Greek prison. He hesitated to move to the TRNC because he suspected he was being searched in the North.

I contacted journalist Aral Moral, who wrote a book about him. Fortunately, Aral Moral helped me set up a meeting with Mustafa Serttaş. The three of us met at a cafe near the Ledra Street Border Crossing in Southern Cyprus, the Greek side of the island. We chatted. During our conversation, Mustafa Serttaş expressed concern about whether the Turkish police were after him for any crimes he might have committed in the North.

Later on, Tavuri moved to the North, to the Turkish side, and I think he was imprisoned for a crime for which he was wanted.

I visited him in prison with permission from the authorities. He agreed to speak in front of the camera. But the project was not just on him. In the beginning, I was talking to a lot of prisoners.

Initially, I intended to study the subject of crime, but I was uncertain about the structure, approach, and characters that would be involved in the work. Gradually, I reduced the number of inmates I interacted with until Tavuri was the only person I spoke to.

At that time, I visited Cyprus every fifteen days to teach at a university. When I came to give lectures, I devoted one day, Thursday, to talk with Tavuri. I was going to the Turkish prison in Nicosia and talking to Tavuri, a prisoner, all day except for lunch. I recorded the conversations between us with the help of a three-person team consisting of Fuat Sözen (Director of Photography) and Evren Maner (Sound Recorder).

As months went by, a significant amount of material started to accumulate.  However, the work evolved from a conversational format to an observational documentary.

The prison first permitted us to film Tavuri's room inside and part of the room. In this way, we slowly started to capture his routine life in prison. This is how the evolution into observational documentary took place.

Twenty years ago, I collaborated with Panicos Chrysanthou, a Cypriot filmmaker and documentarian, to make a documentary called 'Paralel Yolculuklar' ('Parallel Trips') and directed ten fiction works. As someone who has always been interested in documentary filmmaking, I wanted to explore areas of social experience often left out by cinema. Over the years, my filmography has expanded to encompass various forms, content, genres, and approaches. I have tackled numerous issues, such as class struggle, political corruption, ethnic tensions, environmental degradation, historical conflicts, modernization, and the war in Syria. I have always tried to be a pest cheer with new, not-addressed topics on form and content.

At the point I came from, I asked if the cinema of the geography I live and am part of ignores some issues and people; I was designed to address people who are out of fashion to capture the truth with a fresh approach. Additions can be made to the list. Could I change my film production procedures and make the film with a relatively low budget in a way that would make me rethink the relationship between production methods and aesthetics? After some movies in which I worked with reasonable budgets, could I return to the guerilla-style, that is, low-budget productions, similar to 'Tabutta Rövaşata' ('Somersault in A Coffin'), which I did twenty years ago?

I have more or less tried guerrilla style in the films Tabutta Rövashata' ('Somersault in a Coffin') and 'Devir' ('Cycle'). At that point in my filmography, could going to international development platforms, local and foreign digital platforms, and encrypted channels to find support provide me with positive momentum? Were there any downsides to this venture? Or could starting to identify characters and events with modest sources without dwelling too much on the issue of getting the support of local or foreign 'reputable' authorities, if combined with certain conditions, lead to a more truthful, accurate and authentic work? I also kept these questions in mind.

In Tavuri, many genres coexist, especially the observational and reflexive genres (arguably, some comment that the interactive documentary genre can be added to these).

But I think the main artery consists mainly of observational documentaries. If I am not mistaken, narrative documentaries dominate the Turkish documentary scene, with the reflexive genre gaining more prominence in recent times.

I am pleased with the structure and consistency of the work across genres. The project was an initiative that could be considered to have a high probability of failure due to the people and subject in focus.  From the start, I was concerned that Tavuri, who has been diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder, might quit collaboration. In addition, there were also question marks about the possibility of a camel (Camera techniques, Acting, Mise-en-scene, Editing, Lighting, Sound) production about a criminal like him, which was likely to be long and difficult to find sufficient financial support.

As a matter of fact, at the beginning of the financing search process, the Turkish Cinema Support Board would not give development support to the project, the New Film Fund would refuse to support it, and the Cyprus Culture Department would initially resist contributing to the project due to the risk that dealing with a thief could set a bad precedent in the representation of the island's people (After a long process, the board convened by the Culture Department approved a modest amount of support to 'Tavuri') even if I started filming without finding finance (which was the case in the beginning; frankly, the business was started when there was no finance available), it was unclear whether I would be able to work as I wanted and whether I would be able to continue the work I had started, due to the limited resources available.

Starting without a budget would make it easier to establish a direct, first-hand, transparent relationship between myself and the taste of the street. Finally, I started shooting without worrying about whether I could handle the financial issue. Fortunately, Tavuri was generally willing to cooperate with us, and it was to our advantage that we started with conversations with him in the prison environment. Over time, we gained his trust. Serttaş continued his cooperation with us until the end.

Derviş Zaim's approach to the project avoided overthinking the structure or creating too many plans. Instead, he preferred to walk alongside his character and let the story unfold naturally.

Even without a plan, I believed the results could be interesting, as I walked with someone with much energy. Luckily, we were able to work well together. I like to think of it as "walking together". Because I didn't want the production and the process to be dominated solely by me at every point. My words do not mean that Tavuri was also a co-director. As a director, I was going to intervene in the events I was going to film, but I wanted Tavuri to agree on some decisions, to consent to the flow, to make suggestions, and to decide on his own what to say.  I couldn't quite figure out how this intention of mine could come true, but somehow, after we rolled up our sleeves to conduct a mutual interview at the beginning of the work, we achieved the synergy that would carry the process.

I knew from the start that having a synopsis, even if rough, would allow me to capture the controlling idea in the film. Although I changed it frequently, I always kept a draft of the synopsis ready as the process continued. The synopsis draft allowed me to do trial and error to capture the conflict and concept. How were we working? We tried to identify a possible pathway within the synopsis. This path could take the form of explaining the relationship with a character, or it could be aimed at advancing a situation or a title, deepening, illuminating and clarifying the issue, sub-story, or secondary character. If the potential of that place was promising for drama or development, we continued walking on that path. Still, if there were a blockage in terms of conflict and concept capture on the route we walked, I would go back and try to change some things at the beginning of the path, thus trying to keep the possibility of conflict and concept capture more alive. Or I was building a new trail.

Tavuri did not object to the trials. He enjoyed the process because he felt he could express himself to the camera. Perhaps he believed that this was a unique opportunity in his life to communicate whatever he wanted to say. In my view, he was taking full advantage of this opportunity to express himself.

As a style, we were initially preoccupied with observing and recording him and what was happening around him. Over time, we established a character, a situation and a moment related to the conflict and recorded what could happen within that situation. It cannot be said that we always got positive and efficient results, but to reach the main backbone, it was necessary to do these things and try not to give up. It seemed that 'luck' would not help someone who did not make the required efforts I listed. I think the sequences and scenes described as editing and recording may be less critical in this work than the scenes obtained through observational documentaries. So, I think the reflexive style is less prominent than the observational style. The team consisted of three people, including me; Fuat Sözen was the Director of Photography, and Evren Maner was the Sound Recordist, Director Assistant and Drone Operator.

Canon 5D Mark III was the primary camera, but we replaced it with other cameras, such as Sony A7 Mark II and Canon C200.

Sound devices 552 Rode NTG-8 boom microphone was used for sound recording.

Hamza Cidik occasionally helped us with sound recording, and Mert Özlük with the use of additional cameras.

Keeping the team small and permanently fixed facilitated flexibility and intensified mutual trust, collaboration and openness with the participants.

If I touched upon the factors that enabled Tavuri to open up, I would like to say that although my relationship with Tavuri played a part in this, the interviews we conducted at the beginning also played a part. I think that Tavuri probably felt more comfortable in establishing relationships with the team, thanks to the long-term conversations we had with him that touched on many issues.

He wanted to use the opportunity to speak to the fullest, as he realized he had found a channel to express himself systematically and in-depth. He also had a side that wanted to attract attention, and I have to say that I noticed he also enjoyed being followed by a team. In projects whose shooting spans up to eight years, protecting the material at hand is a problem.

Towards the end of the project, in terms of having the materials, the same things that happened to cooked chicken occurred to us. Some of the material almost flew away due to an unexpected power outage. Luckily, we somehow got through the chaos. But don't ask me what I'm going through until I fix things. To cut long stories short, I followed a strategy of editing between shots and evaluating the progress we had reached. After the evaluation, re-shooting continued.

At the beginning of the shooting, I attempted the first editing with Ilgar Gökhan. At that time, Ilgar was the editing assistant who helped me with the rough cut of the movie 'Rüya' ('The Dream'). So, the Tavuri project paralleled my adventures in making feature films. As the shots accumulated, I sat down for the editing again, this time working with Feyza Kayıkçı for a long time during the editing (we spent time with Feyza Kayıkçı at the editing table in three different periods, taking long breaks from our work) to establish the main backbone. But the shooting continued, and changes were constantly on the agenda.

Ali Sait Demir helped me with the editing while finishing the film a long time after Feyza. (Note for those curious: Ali Sait Demir edited the movie Rüya in between. In other words, other films started and ended, but Tavuri somehow continued.) As for the 'polish' part of Tavuri's editing table, Burak Dal contributed. I finished editing the movie with Burak Dal. Musician Marios Takoushis, as always, added tasteful, elegant music as needed. How to do the sound design and tame the wild sound 'material' in the post-shooting processes was making me lose sleep.

The sound designer Kostas Varybopiotis, with whom I worked on several films, created a design that could not be easily done. There was a soundtrack recorded with different devices in harsh atmospheres.

In addition, Tavuri could sometimes turn into a man whose words could not be fully understood because he had no teeth, babbled, and swallowed words. Our sound designer, Kostas, ironed out the wrinkles from the shooting and the sound that spanned a long time with his usual mastery.

In short, thanks to the different aesthetic and technical contributions of different professionals, Tavuri can be watched without boring the audience, which gives me pleasure. Boring the audience, whether in a movie or a documentary, is the biggest sin. This project could not be done in the current economic and industrial chaos.

The documentary's ability to take the audience on a journey into Tavuri's life is impressive. However, it wasn't easy for director Derviş Zaim to obtain legal permissions and convince Tavuri and his family to participate in the project. Zaim had to undertake an unpredictable and risky endeavour to access the places, characters and situations that the project demanded. Obtaining permission to shoot in prison was a breakthrough, allowing Zaim to explore deeper into the jail and capture moments that couldn't have been easily detected with a camera. However, it took time for Zaim to gain the trust of the prison management and staff and gradually enter the deep part of the prison, step by step.

An experience that is unlikely to be repeated occurred due to the permission and tolerance granted to us. We are grateful to the prison administration, Metin Bilmen, the first prison director during the study, and Derviş Çebiç, his successor, for their support and assistance. Sevil Hançerli, the psychologist working in the prison who helped us on their behalf, made our work easier inside the prison. Both the prison warden, Derviş Çebiç and psychologist, Sevil Hanım, appeared in different scenes of the film. Many guards and prisoners probably helped us against many invisible disasters; whether we were aware of it or not, they played themselves in the shootings, participated, and looked after the team.

Getting permission to shoot in the waiting room and meeting room while the parole meeting was in the prison was a development that would not be possible for someone making a documentary.

During the extended filming period in the prison, we were able to complete the shoot without encountering any major issues, except for the sudden attack on Tavuri.

We were unable to enter the courtroom due to legal restrictions. Therefore, we continued filming in the corridor and on the veranda while Tavuri waited in line for the hearing.

Our shooting at Nicosia and Famagusta public hospitals was possible thanks to the help and tolerance of the Ministry of Health, hospital management, and employees. Doctor Mustafa Kalfa, who cut off Tavuri's toes, later permitted us to shoot while he was dressing him. We filmed the heart surgery and post-operative recovery process of the girl with leukaemia in the Nicosia hospital, but I did not use the surgery scenes in the montage.

The process of Tavuri's body melting slowly and the treatment process recording was both detailed and spread out over a long period of time. The flexibility and assistance mentioned were crucial in accomplishing this enormous task.

We worked guerilla-style in London's casinos, buses, and streets (same in Cyprus).

Evren Maner, the Sound Recordist and Director Assistant, softened and distracted the casino's Caribbean-origin employee by chatting about Reggae, making it easier for us to shoot in a forbidden location. The scenes in Buckingham Palace, on the bridges, and in Trafalgar Square were also determined with this logic.

Many of Tavuri's half-siblings refused to appear. The cousins, who shared Tavuri's previous surname Serttaş but had changed it by court order for societal comfort, did not want to be seen again.

Mustafa Serttaş's father agreed to talk to us. Mustafa Serttaş's siblings supported the film as participants. I want to thank Tavuri's relatives and acquaintances for their valuable contributions to the film. They all deserve endless thanks.

On the other hand, how to find and persuade the people defrauded by Tavuri and how they would appear in the film was a huge problem. First, they had to be persuaded to accept participating in the work as a defrauded person. We heard no from many of the 'victims' we spoke to for various reasons. Finally, two people allegedly harmed by Tavuri agreed to appear in the film this way. I think the first girl who was defrauded wanted to get some of her money back, and the second man (the father of the girl with leukaemia) was motivated to express what happened to him on camera and morally condemn Tavuri because he was hurt by being defrauded.

We tried to understand the truth in his claims. While bringing the victims and Tavuri together, it was necessary not to harm both parties' physical and mental security and to prepare working conditions security-centred. Moreover, this had to be done not with an explanatory documentary, that is, without using talking heads or voice-overs. 

We did these works by continuing the observational and reflexive style of the film as the main artery. Regarding my mother and myself, it can be said that the film can be placed somewhere between the interactive and reflexive styles. We stand more in the field of intuitive style. The job was so complicated that it gave us nightmares at night, but we tried our best.

Derviş Zaim consciously tried to avoid creating detailed plans during filming. Since there wasn't precise data about how long the work would last, the film director preferred treating the shoot as an open-ended job with no certainty of when it would end. There was a developing pattern in Tavuri's way of identifying whatever issue, situation, or moment was dominant at that time in his life.

While recording this flow, we occasionally found a new problem that could deepen our concept, and we were trying to construct an encounter centred on that situation. The relevant design could start with a hypothetical question like 'If he did something like this while the treatment of Tavuri disease was continuing, where could the chain of events that are currently flowing lead?' For example, if you have diabetes, heart failure and a leg that is about to become gangrene, and instead of eating hospital food, if you have hummus soup and a loaf of bread brought to the hospital from an outside restaurant, and if you eat food with appetite as if you were a healthy person, regardless of what your blood sugar level will be before the surgery, where can your disease progress? The critical thing to note here is that Tavuri frequently did this behaviour before we shot him. In other words, he was not following a diet appropriate to his illness and was eating harmful foods from outside. Therefore, filming him eating in the hospital garden with a hypothetical question or eating a package of sugary biscuits was not a situation 'constructed, pre-arranged, outside his life experience' by the director team. If my experiences do not deceive me, an aspect of the shooting became a Zen or Sufi experience and reminded me of those experiences. I use this concept to ensure the unity of the subject and his work, ensuring they flow together and bringing the flow to consciousness. Under certain circumstances, filmmaking may turn into a Zen experience or a Sufi experience. I may have had this experience in the Tavuri project while trying to pass the stops I just listed. I may have tasted the clarity and health that Sufis care about, from the virtue of "accepting what exists" to the production and direction that puts aside preconceptions and negative thoughts and prioritizes the production process. The shooting took place for five years, but with the post-shooting procedures, it lasted up to eight years. We went through a long and laborious post-shooting process, struggling with the vast amount of material from the shoot as if we were fighting a monster. Especially in the beginning, the material could not be connected in any way. Still, the balance in the fiction was achieved thanks to the discussion of compassion, with my mother also getting involved. I'm happy with the result.

Despite the numerous people and stories involved, Tavuri gained sympathy from everyone he defrauded. From the warden to the police chief, from the mayor of that time to the president, many people tried to win him over. It's yet unclear what factors contributed to his ability to charm people and maintain his reputation, whether it was his grandfather's legacy, his persuasive skills, or simply the goodwill and compassion of those around him. Derviş Zaim explains that the film tries to be aware that the sources of crime cannot be reduced to just the individual or society.

In other words, we claim that it is difficult to understand clearly, separately and in isolation the shares of social and individual factors that make Tavuri who he was. The external and internal factors that make Tavuri Tavuri are probably intertwined beyond recognition. I suspect that it is difficult to distinguish the particular characteristics of each and to determine the proportions of their separate contributions to the process. Due to the factors affecting it intertwining and melting into each other, it forms a structure called 'gestalt'. Therefore, it is reasonable to only speculate about fairly determining and acknowledging the share of all factors in Tavuri's situation. Let's try to guess with the margin of error: When asked what might be the main reasons for Tavuri to become this way, the absence of his father can be roughly mentioned, and the chaos prevailing in the environment where Tavuri lived during his developmental years can be put forward as a second factor. As the third factor, it may be wise to consider Tavuri's internal characteristics, soul and mental structure, and DNA.

Cure would be a big claim. Most experts claim it will be impossible to cure. Therefore, let me speak with the hope of a positive development rather than a cure. For Tavuri's possible treatment to evolve to a positive point, he had to decide at the beginning of the process and redefine the relationship between himself and the world. It would benefit the health process if this definition emerged from a real confrontation. Did Tavuri have the energy, capacity and courage to make such a confrontation? There were moments when I had difficulty seeing that energy, ability and courage in him. But I have also witnessed him sometimes verbally asking for 'healing'. At least sometimes, I noticed moments when he verbally stated that he had such a desire. On the other hand, there may be those who want to interpret Tavuri's so-called 'demonic' attitudes observed in the film, that is, his continuing to do things that will negatively affect his health, as the revelation of Tavuri's desire to harm himself. I'm talking about the harm he inflicts on others and the conscious harm he inflicts on himself. For example, when he was about to have his foot amputated in the hospital, I observed that he continued eating junk food and smoking cigarettes, even though his blood sugar was skyrocketing.

Answering the question of whether it was intentional that some of the names that Mustafa Serttaş, a.k.a. Tavuri, befriended through bureaucrats or police channels, were not included in the documentary, or did most of them remain behind with such secrecy that sharing them openly would be considered a crime, film director Zaim said that including Tavuri's bureaucrat or police acquaintances in the documentary might have slowed or hindered the filmmaking team during the shooting process (since they chose to proceed within a structure that chose observational rather than explanatory documentary as the main style).

First, the Ministry of Internal Affairs did not permit us to shoot inside the police. This restriction was a ban that included elements such as the police, etc. Being able to work on the documentary with bureaucrats and police officers who have established relations with Tavuri requires that those people be ready and willing to contribute to your project goals. Tavuri's cousin was a judge, and when Tavuri was in court, he found his cousin as the judge in front of him. Still, if the allegations circulating to him are to be believed, his cousin later changed his surname by court order to not be associated with the surname of Serttaş. I heard that when Aral Moral approached him to contribute to preparing the book about Tavuri, the judge did not want to help. Therefore, we did not want to disturb him by requesting to support the film. Moreover, even if we could convince the police or the bureaucrat, the complex problem of how we would proceed in the shooting regarding the representation of the crime in the story that the police would tell us would be waiting for us. We didn't want to go down the path of reenacting in a performative documentary style. Explanatory documentary was not our preferred path either. (Journalist Aral Moral, who also starred in the film, could have included anecdotes about the crimes he committed from the mouths of bureaucrats or police officers who crossed paths with Mustafa Serttaş in his published book about Tavuri, but since we did not prefer an explanatory documentary style, the police officers or bureaucrats who spoke about the pain they had experienced with Tavuri in the past, we didn't want to use scenes where they talked about sweet memories. Because the style we preferred in Tavuri was not such a style). This reason or many similar factors played a role in deciding who we would cast in the movie. Also, let me tell you a secret. Like many of my colleagues, I always have to keep the law of conservation of energy in mind when planning a shoot. When undertaking an open-ended job, you must be convinced that a meaningful aesthetic relationship can be achieved between the resources and energy you will spend and the result you will perform in the future so that the size of the resources and energy you pay to do that job is reasonable and affordable. The film's selection and inclusion of bureaucrat and security personnel characters would have wasted my time, energy and resources. In the meantime, let me return to the beginning and remind you there are bureaucrats in the movie. The prison warden is the first thing that comes to my mind. In addition, in the scene where Tavuri arrives in Famagusta after his first release and walks on the road greeting the shopkeepers, he calls out to someone in civilian clothes sitting on the chair on the left, "What's up, brother Mehmet Ali?" Mehmet Ali Kağan, who is sitting in the chair there, is an old, retired police inspector, and he "dealt" with Tavuri a lot when he was a police officer. Coincidentally, he was sitting there that day we were shooting. I left the leading bureaucrat at the film's centre for last: My mother was the recording pen manager at the Magusa Accident Court. When Tavuri was brought to court, he met Ruhsar Zaimağaoğlu from the neighbourhood, my mother. My mother's and Tavuri's relationship is two essential characters building a vital pattern the movie discusses. In addition, Tavuri talks about the effort my late father, a police inspector, made to refer himself to reasonable behaviour.

Referring to the non-fiction format of the documentary film with a significant reference to Fyodor Dostoyevsky's 'Crime and Punishment' novel, Zaim noted the following:

Şerif Mardin (prominent Turkish sociologist, 1927-2017) talked about the lack of the demonic in Turkish literature in one of his articles and tries to compare this phenomenon with its counterparts in Western literature and makes inferences. It discusses the 'reasons for this deficiency and its potential implications for our creative journey'. I would not be wrong if I claimed that one of the possible and modest contributions of the Tavuri documentary to Turkish culture, cinema and documentary was that it attempted to establish a real, long-term, naked and transparent relationship with the demonic and brought it to the screen. Turkish cinema and literature can sometimes try to build its relationship with evil and evil through Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Although I find these attempts positive, I doubt whether their insights are profound and encompassing enough to interpret Dostoyevsky or consider him within the context of Türkiye. Dostoyevsky makes a nihilistic determination that the world is a wrong place, but his works after his first work focus on how we can deal with the evil that surrounds the earth and whether we can establish a 'value system' inspired by the belief to overcome evil. Among the things I observed are that Turkish writers and filmmakers are unfamiliar with the idea of ​​original sin, pause at the introduction of Dostoyevsky's thought, get stuck on the concept of ​​nihilism and fail to go further, and do not delve too much into the 'value construction process' that forms the centre of Dostoyevsky's work. Is there anyone who doesn't get stuck on this path? As far as I can see, unfortunately, not many people ask questions and attempt philosophical research on whether there can be goodness independent of the idea of ​​God. If I violate anyone's rights, please forgive me. These types of questions have not been asked much other than in the movie 'Nokta' ('Dot'). If what I see does not deceive me, it seems there is not much of a range, goal or purpose other than a nihilism resulting from incomplete interpretations of Russian thought and an atheistic nihilism. In Tavuri, a picture of evil is drawn at first, but then the question of how we can live together with this evil is raised. While searching for an answer to this question, the film tries to answer it by turning it into a process of discovery of compassion.

Answering Didem Peker Başaran's question, 'What was the impact of directing a documentary with similar parameters?', Zaim said that the Tavuri documentary has a classical structure.

If you want to express this, I want to warn you that although there is some truth in the determination, it may also bring up some misunderstandings. The expression 'using similar parameters with fiction' may create an incomplete perception, as if the film's structure gives the impression that we are faced with a three-act narrative (although it seems correct at first glance) as if it were just that. However, the film does not only have a three-act structure; some aspects make this problematic. What is intended in the question is whether the narrative language in the film is used in a behavioural cinema language that can be observed with concrete behaviours. So, if I'm not mistaken, the question aims to question the effect of concrete behaviours leading to conflict and advancing the story through conflict on the style of the documentary. Since the drama mechanism I mentioned can be observed primarily in moving the story of fictional works, it refers to whether the Tavuri documentary was influenced by the fictional works I shot. At first glance, I agree with this determination.

The effort to create drama from conflict and contrasts to be observed through concrete behaviour has enabled Tavuri to emerge a flow that has rarely been seen before in Turkish documentaries. In other words, creating drama in the film resulted in a storyline that rises, does not get boring, and gives the impression that we are watching the development line of a feature film. This situation is present in the movie, and we made a conscious effort to make it so. But if the conversation remains in this bracket, a wrong and incomplete meaning may arise, as if we created the film with the patterns of the classical stage set-up, which is the film's significant formal merit. Therefore, there is another experience we had while producing the movie Tavuri. I want to mention it because it is appropriate (to avoid misunderstandings). While working for Tavuri, a working pattern I experienced in the movie 'Devir' ('Cycle') caused me to sometimes review my working habits in some of the fiction films I made parallel to Tavuri ('Rüya'/' Dream', 'Flashbellek'/'Flashdrive') while trying to produce Tavuri. While making my seventh film, 'Devir' ('Cycle'), I had the taste of blending the documentary style with fiction. This taste recurred occasionally while making subsequent films, starting from the movie 'Balık' ('Fish').  So, if I had to fill in the missing part of the question, it can be said that just as my fictional habits fed the style of the Tavuri film, some habits that came from working in the documentary also affected the tone of my fiction films and the way they were made.

Derviş Zaim believes that a film's value should not be determined by its awards and accolades but rather by its ability to evoke emotions from its audience. The film director stresses that exploring innovative and unconventional marketing and screening methods that fit within the given resources and conditions for each project is important. According to Zaim, it may be necessary to create a unique promotional strategy for each film to showcase its strengths truly. While festivals can be alternative venues that soften the negative aspects of mainstream cinema, they may not be as innocent as they seem. Festivals can sometimes produce negative characteristics more insidiously than the mainstream. Despite the obstacles, Zaim strives to bring his films to the audience. He tries to change his route according to different situations and determine a new direction. Orientalism is a leading cause of this phenomenon.

I strive to walk forward despite everything in the grey area and a minefield, as many producers do, and to bring my films to the audience despite many obstacles. I try to change my route according to different situations and determine a new direction. There are many reasons for this phenomenon, but a leading cause stems from the fact that the discussion of Orientalism has not been carried out in a way that creates saturation in both the West and the East. In our country, it is thought that Orientalism and Occidentalism have been discussed in depth in different views and camps and that the issue has been clarified and closed. Still, while it is being discussed, the phenomenon is often handled in an ahistorical and essentialist manner. Because the discussion is not sufficiently satisfied, distorted attitudes and ideas continue, and when the problems continue, the wound can spread negatively to many other areas of society. Festivals and support platforms in the West and East are affected by the septic atmosphere that emerges due to the incomplete discussion of Orientalism.

Since it is a long topic and not the main issue we are discussing, I will only go into some detail here. Let me return to the Tavuri special. If you are a mainstream filmmaker, attending the festival is unnecessary. If you are a producer who produces alternative, low-budget works, you may face a more significant marketing dilemma than a mainstream producer. That's why you go to the festival to create publicity. To promote the film you have produced in an alternative style and to extend its shelf life, even if you know the possible adverse conditions at the festivals, you may have to close your eyes and enter your work into festivals to increase your chances of promotion, screening and appearance. We said festivals are alternative venues to the mainstream, and their existence is beneficial. But they may not be as innocent platforms as they think. Since we did not have a solid promotional budget for Tavuri, I had to enter the festival lane, as I had done in previous works. But preserving the film as much as possible while entering the festival circuit would be wise. To further help a new movie in its infancy, it might not be a bad idea to keep it as far away from speculations, question marks, and more or less possible bad intentions as possible. Tavuri was shown to the audience for the first time in March 2023 at the 'True/False Film Festival' (located in Columbia, Missouri, USA), which has a prestigious place among worldwide documentary festivals. There is no competition in the 'True/False Film Festival', which has a boutique documentary festival identity and a respected name among festivals.

Thirty-three films from all over the world are being screened out of competition. It has a cinephile atmosphere. I speak as someone who saw the queue of spectators waiting outside the theatre at nine o'clock on Sunday morning to enter the documentary. I am pleased with the feedback from Tavuri's screenings in Istanbul, Safranbolu and Izmir, both in the 'True/False Film Festival' and out of competition. Let me make a point. This does not mean that my attitude of showing the film out of competition until now will continue in the same way in every film I make from now on. Because I do not want to limit myself and the work I will do in the future with such statements, it is best to act according to time and place. Finally, I would like to thank the TRNC Culture Department, Sarten Ambalaj, General Directorate of Cinema, Genius Park company, my family members on the island, my brother Hasan, and the board of directors of Toprak Cinema Association for their valuable contributions to the production of the film. With love and mercy, I remember my mother, who agreed to appear in the movie as one of the participants, and my father, whose name was mentioned by Tavuri in the first scenes.

Following the two novels published by Yapı Kredi Yayınları (YKY), Ares in Wonderland (1992 Yunus Nadi Novel Award) and 'Rüyet' (The Vision), Zaim noted that he is thinking of writing a new novel.

I want to discuss the intertextuality between the movie 'Rüya' ('Dream') and the novel 'Rüyet' ('The Vision'). The characters, situations and places of the 'Rüya' ('Dream') movie and the character situations and locations of the novel 'Rüyet' ('The Vision') are the same. The 'Rüya' ('The Dream') movie deals with the events after the end of the novel 'Rüyet' ('The Vision'). 

Despite this, the book 'Rüyet' ('The Vision') does not proceed by using a literary style in which the cinema language is dominant and perceptible. The novel 'Rüyet' ('The Vision') references an essential genre of our pre-Tanzimat literary history, the Masnavi genre, and combines that genre with the Western novel form. In a sense, he tries to write the Masnavi genre in a new context. I think that evaluating both the script of the novel and the film separately in terms of both the art of a movie script and the art of literature in the context of Turkish literature and Turkish screenwriting may provide the possibility of creating a helpful discussion. Moreover, comments and evaluations regarding the intertextual exchange between cinema and literature in the context of the 'Rüya' ('The Dream') movie and the novel 'Rüyet' ('The Vision') may lead to other inspiring, fresh questions.

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