Aslı Özarslan: Film “Elbow”: Young women are allowed to be angry

When you read Fatma Aydemir’s book, you really wanted to make a film of it – and then you approached the author. What fascinated you so much?

That was once the drive of the novel. There’s something so rough about him, but also a sensitive way of describing the character. The novel is honest and allows for a lot of ambivalence. You don’t have to like the characters all the time. I found that authentic. The main character Hazal is ambivalent. She is neither a victim nor a perpetrator and doesn’t fit into any category – just like it is in real life. I think it’s rarely shown that a young woman – even with a connection to migration – is allowed to be stubborn. Young people should have the opportunity to not yet know what they want and to say “no” sometimes. Hazal often does not have this privilege. I found all of this exciting.

What challenges does 17-year-old Hazal face?

Educational equity would mean that all young people have the same opportunities, regardless of their background. But that is not the case in Germany. Hazal is one of the young people who did not graduate from high school. She then sits in a measure that was assigned to her by the job center. Thank you very much. I have spoken to many educators who say that young people with a secondary school diploma have incredibly little chance of getting a training place. On the one hand, people are desperately looking for workers, but on the other hand, people without a high school diploma don’t get any opportunities. When a migration connection is added, it becomes even more difficult. There are people who immediately put aside applications with a non-German name. Young people are exposed to cultural attributions, but also prejudices and racism.

The young women in the film repeatedly say that they don’t want to be “victims.” What significance does this have?

They also call other people “victims.” The term is interesting. It is part of youth language and also tells us something about Hazal’s clique. I don’t think anyone wants to be a victim because there is a feeling of powerlessness involved. If you are a victim, you are unable to act. That’s why the young women keep trying to get out of being victims. It’s also about attributions from outside, which they defend themselves against.

Hazal experiences injustice and insults again and again. At some point her feelings erupt into violence, and then she flees to Istanbul. Is it sometimes difficult for viewers to identify with her?

We don’t try to explain in the film why Hazal does things. I think there is no causality there. There are many people who are confronted with a lack of prospects and yet would never commit an act of violence. But of course this increases the danger. What’s more, Hazal is in the wrong place at the wrong time. A young man decides to do something he thinks he can do with these young women. Hazal and her friends immediately feel this feeling of powerlessness again, because they are sensitive to a certain type of discrimination. You immediately notice that this person places himself above you. There’s a brief moment where Hazal enjoys what’s happening. But then an accident occurs. The three women didn’t want the result. The situation also serves as a metaphor for being in a position of power for a brief moment. That was also very important in the novel. Fatma Aydemir said she wanted to deal with the phenomenon that migration and violence are often linked in the media.

The violence is one reason why the film was only released for ages 16 and up. What does this mean for you?

We were very surprised by the FSK-16 rating, especially since the film was shown to younger people at youth film festivals. We received an audience award from a youth jury that included twelve-year-olds. I had many conversations with young people who were able to assess the film and the character well. They were able to connect with Hazal emotionally, although not necessarily with her actions. But this led to a dialogue emerging and questions being raised that the young people dealt with. That’s why I think it’s harmful that the film is withheld from young people. Fatma Aydemir has given readings at schools for years with 12 to 14-year-olds who had read the novel. The reasons for the age rating are drugs and violence. Our film does not celebrate violence or drug use. But he doesn’t give you any morals either. In the end you have to think for yourself. And I trust young people to do that.

How did the young people react at the festivals?

Different. One of the best feedback was: Thank you for giving us a home with this film. Other young people were very excited and impressed that Melia Kara, as a German with Turkish roots, was given so much space and mastered the difficult role of Hazal. Of course, there are also young people who cannot connect with the character. Others can identify very well with their sensitivity, but also with their anger.

In order to convey the authenticity of the book, you wanted to work with amateur actors. They also cast on the street. How can you imagine that?

Yes, I sometimes felt creepy when I observed and spoke to young women on the subway when I thought: This could be a great clique. We also had a street caster who traveled a lot and distributed flyers. And we also had an agent who made inquiries through agencies. The whole thing took a year and a half. It was really important to me to have an amateur actress. That was also the reason why Fatma said she would like me to do the film. I wanted to embody that rawness and honesty and directness from the novel. It was also important to me that the youth language was as authentic as possible. In many films I notice how artificial this is. That bothers me enormously. Therefore, the girls were allowed to speak as they normally speak. Melia Kara then received another six months of coaching and I did workshops with the girls so that they came across as authentic as a group of friends.

Like Hazal, you were born in Berlin and have family roots in Turkey. Do you see parallels between your life and that of the main character?

Hazal is from Berlin, maybe even from Wedding. That is their identity. There are people who see her as a figure who lives between two cultures. It makes me wonder if they’ve even seen the film. It’s about a woman who is marginalized because of her name and class. This is a socio-political issue. Hazal is not to blame. And we don’t tell you that she has problems living between two cultures. From my own experience, I have to say that I have always found it incredibly enriching and have never personally been in conflict. But my identity was constantly being questioned from outside. That’s why for me an important function of the film was to tell how much is projected onto Hazal.

Does that mean nothing has happened since you were a teenager?

I don’t know. There was a time when I thought: Wow, things are really moving right now. But now I have the feeling that we are having the same debates as in the 90s. I find that incredibly tiring. I’m now in my late 30s and started thinking about topics that had something to do with migration or identity at a relatively early age. Or better: I had to deal with it because it was always projected onto me. People with a migration background are often lumped together, but the term is so vague. Hazal doesn’t even know what it means to migrate – until she goes to Turkey herself. I often have the feeling that there is no differentiation in the terminology. You make it easy for yourself.

»Ellbogen«: Germany 2024. Director: Aslı Özarslan. Starring: Melia Kara, Jamilah Bagdach, Asya Utku. 86 mins, playing in cinemas.