My Father and My Son

In the turbulent aftermath of a 1980 military coup, a once‑idealistic left‑wing journalist finds himself drawn back to the rugged Aegean coast that shaped his childhood. The country is under curfew, the streets hum with uncertainty, and ordinary life is fractured by fear and repression. Against this backdrop, the protagonist, Sadık, carries the weight of personal loss and a body weakened by years of hardship, prompting a desperate quest to secure a stable home for his newborn son before his own time runs out.

Returning to the family’s remote farm, Sadık confronts a stark divide between his political convictions and the entrenched expectations of his father, Hüseyin. The elder farmer, a steadfast steward of the land, has long resented his son’s abandonment of agrarian duties for “radical” studies, leaving their relationship frosted with bitterness. Yet the ancient rhythms of the countryside—olive trees swaying in the sea breeze, the distant rumble of tractors—offer a quiet canvas on which both men might renegotiate their past and glimpse a shared future.

Amid the rust‑colored earth and the low‑key chatter of a close‑knit household, the infant Deniz inhabits a world of comic‑book wonder, his innocence a gentle counterpoint to the adults’ unresolved grievances. The farm’s other residents—Nuran, a matriarch who commands a tractor and a short‑wave radio; Hanife, an expressive aunt whose arms are adorned with endless bracelets; and Salim, a kindly uncle whose naivety softens the harshness of rural life—populate the scene with warmth and understated humor. Their presence hints at the possibility that love, memory, and the simple act of caring for one another may bridge the chasms that history and ideology have carved.

Last Updated: October 14, 2025 at 03:51