Hamam – The Turkish Bath (199)

As the evening draws on, a Filipino maid hums to herself while setting a dinner table for two in a tasteful home. Rome is the backdrop — beautiful, if slightly gloomy, and distinctly chilly. A handsome couple freshen up for dinner. There is no sign of children, little warmth, and no love. They talk about work, but every comment is a stab at the other. They are together and resigned to it, but a part of each of them screams to be rid of the other. It’s clearly a marriage that has seen better days, and resentment hangs thick in the air. Madame reminds the maid that a third guest will be joining them for dinner, and the evening is spent bickering some more. Meanwhile, a faxed letter arrives bearing the crescent and star of the Turkish Republic.

It appears that the husband, Francesco, has inherited some property in Istanbul from an aunt he hardly knew and, though very reluctant, he drags himself over to Turkey to get the matter over and done with as quickly as possible. His intention is to sell to the first half-decent offer that comes along, and he is well on his way to striking a bargain and getting the hell out of Turkey. However, progress is bogged down by the slower pace of life in these parts, and he has to stick around a day or two longer than he had intended. While sorting through his aunt’s belongings, he discovers letters she had written to her sister (Francesco’s mother), in which she explains how she has made an extraordinary discovery that changed her life. She goes on to describe how Istanbul has got under her skin and how she has grown to adore every breath she takes within the city. She has found something there that she never expected to find — either in Istanbul or anywhere else — and now she cannot tear herself away from it.

One afternoon, Francesco is virtually forced by an eccentric local to visit a Hamam, where he finds himself strangely at ease amidst the bathing patrons. Later, he discovers that the property he has inherited is, in fact, another old, dilapidated bath-house. Immediately, he begins to feel differently about selling it and abruptly backs away from the deal he was about to strike. The Hamam gradually becomes an obsession, and he moves in with the Turkish family who had become like relatives to his aunt during her years in Istanbul. He finds their warmth and exuberance infectious — a world apart from the cold indifference he endures back home. Istanbul starts to grow on him in much the same way it did with his aunt, and he finds himself experiencing a new sense of liberty in this environment, along with some strange and unexpected desires. However, he pays a heavy toll for his newfound freedom, and his love affair with Istanbul culminates in a dramatic climax.

This Turkish-Italian-Spanish production is a fine effort from debut director Ferzan Özpetek, who spins a deeply human story about a man standing on the threshold of freedom. It is a curious film about a curious subject, but it is handled with admirable subtlety and restraint. Contrary to what some might expect, this is not really a film about sexuality so much as it is a film about the contrast between cultures, of which sexuality forms only one part. The background score is perhaps the most memorable feature of a film that, more than anything else, serves as an ode to the soothing, healing warmth that Istanbul exudes, and to the hidden — and sometimes dangerous — attractions that lurk beneath its mysterious surface.