Blood, Sweat and Drugs

The film "Chiko" was a big hit with audiences at this year's Berlin Film Festival. The tough gangster movie was produced by Fatih Akin and directed by the Turkish-German Özgür Yildirim. It is set in the drugs world and takes place in grimy Hamburg settings and has prompted a debate about integration and criminality. Amin Farzanefar watched the film

The story sounds familiar enough: Isa, nicknamed "Chiko", wants to make it big fast, and isn't afraid to use brute force. With the aid of an old friend, he gets rid of a couple of small-time dealers, only to come face to face with a certain "Brownie".

The gangland boss recognises Chiko's talent and ambition, and helps him to climb the career ladder in the cocaine business. Fast money, fast cars, a new girlfriend – Chiko seems to have everything he ever wanted. But the steep ascent ends up in a downwards spiral of violence when Brownie crosses swords with Chiko's old friend Tibet.

Up-and-coming director Özgur Yildirim has created a drama around drugs and money, friendship and betrayal with a fast narrative pace, virtuoso performances and a soundtrack that fits like a tailor-made suit.

Haunted by visions of criminal foreigners

With the courage to go for epic hyperbole, yet still told in style, "Chiko" has a veritable international touch. The film references classic gangster films – "Scarface", "Mean Streets" or "Raging Bull" – but never loses touch with its roots in the grime of Hamburg.

Raised in Hamburg's Dulsberg area, Özgur Yildirim has put shades of his own biography into the screenplay. The 28-year-old director's virtuoso début pulled in unanimous praise at the Berlin Film Festival, but also prompted concern. The film came out in the middle of a debate haunted by references to "criminal young foreigners" – spirits one might not want to meet, but which Yildirim conjures up in his film.

The question is whether the film shoots Germany's Turkish community in the foot, if it plays on precisely the dominant clichés and stereotypes – raw language, drastic violence – which represent in public discourse perfect examples of failed integration.

There are several answers to this question. Özgur Yildirim himself takes an unambiguous standpoint: "The film makes a very clear moral statement: if you resort to violence, you get violence back. Violence has dire consequences, violence is ugly and it leads to catastrophe. That's the statement the film makes to everyone, unless they only watch it with one eye."

Media, consumption and violence

But the sixty-four million dollar question, repeatedly asked in university departments of media studies, has always been what effect violent films have on young viewers. Many an anti-war film has subtly mutated into a war film by making war, weapons and heroes look all too attractive. And "Chiko" is no different – the cool aesthetics, hip soundtrack and raw language will no doubt put some viewers off violence, but exercise an irresistible fascination over others.

But Yildirim's comments on which films and media had a particular influence over the hero Chiko's character are more interesting than the dry Media Studies take. "He doesn't even have to watch films, he can just turn on MTV: you can see 50 Cent waving his dollar bills, grabbing girls' naked arses and cruising around in low riders. Then you see Paris Hilton on coke and crack, and all the stuff that goes on at parties – and a lot of people say: Wow! Why can't I have all that?! And cinema is a reflection, it picks up on what's happening in society."

In fact, Yildirim's film addresses less the cultural distance between Germans and Turks, Christians and Muslims, and more the social barrier between the handful of winners and the overwhelming majority who draw the short straw.

Beyond good and evil

But of course, critics are all too quick to play the politics card when it comes to films dealing with aspects of migration. Turkish-German cinema has fallen into this trap since its very beginnings.

Fatih Akin, the producer of "Chiko", made a very similar début in 1998 with "Short Sharp Shock", a charming, witty, romantic and tragic story about small-time Hamburg criminals. Akin was the first director to make a multiethnic story that came across as cool and sexy, not a "problem film" or a "social drama" but an exciting genre film featuring ballsy second-generation immigrants – and he had to justify doing so.

Hollywood has come further than Germany: the Italian-American directors – Scorsese, Coppola or de Palma – who weave their own migration backgrounds into their work and are not afraid to go overboard with dark and brutal images have never had to account for any apparent lack of political correctness.

No Oscar for young men

The Cohen brothers' film "No Country for Old Men", which veritably bathes in blood, sweat and drugs, won an Oscar. But a German film that covers a rather similar subject is almost forced to justify its motives.

Perhaps it would be best to see Yildirim's wild work as a chance for German cinema, as a thoroughly convincing call for the genre films Germany finds so difficult to digest.

The film is a political statement in its own right, as the director reveals: "We didn't make this film for pedagogical reasons, we can't change anything. But I still believe that we can achieve more than Roland Koch [an outspoken conservative politician who based his recent election campaign on issues around immigration and violence] with our film, because he just doesn't speak these guys' language. We do speak that language at least and that gets us closer to them – we're more like buddies than a teacher, a professor or a strict father."

Amin Farzanefar

Translated from the German by Katy Derbyshire

Qantara.de

Fatih Akin's Film "The Edge of Heaven"
Transcending Prejudice and Ideology
The 34-year-old director Fatih Akin has made a most extraordinary film, "The Edge of Heaven", revolving around the fatefully crossing paths of six individuals from Germany and Turkey. Amin Farzanefar watched the film

Nadine Labaki's Film "Caramel"
Rules of the Game beyond the Civil War
The Lebanese director Nadine Labaki's tragicomedy "Caramel" deals with the everyday lives and desires of five women. In the process, she exposes a society in which beauty and virility are the main currency. Fritz Göttler has seen the film

"A Jihad for Love" – a documentary by Parvez Sharma
Islam's Most Unlikely Storytellers
Parvez Sharma spent six years traveling throughout the Muslim world, Europe and North America documenting the lives of gay and lesbian Muslims – many of them devout – who struggle to reconcile their faith with their sexuality. Marianna Evenstein caught up with the Indian filmmaker