You all read fiction and watch movies. What would qualify as a good book or movie, to you? An action-packed adventure or an emotional rollercoaster full of ups and downs, nail-biting pieces of fiction, movies or documentaries that often have you at the edge of your seat or a diary of events where the protagonist is leading a peaceful, simple and happy life? The answer to these questions is obvious.
While we choose to live a relatively placid life, with occasional action, our expectations from the entertainment industry are very different. Despite complaining about extreme action, violence, explicit scenes or obscenity, a simple piece of work portraying the mundane lives of people living happily without any challenges would at best go unremarked.
This is why writers are always faced with the task of introducing challenges for the protagonist in productions. They create situations and develop characters who engender troubles, problems, or something noteworthy at least. Those characters who would eventually qualify as villains by the sheer nature of their acts being in conflict with that of the protagonist and earn the wrath of the viewer are the real drivers of the plot indeed. They are the main reason why we find a movie worth watching or a book worth reading. I empathize with these characters, who often get overshadowed by the “good guy” in the plot.
I have written previously about the more obvious aspects of “Barbaroslar Akdeniz'ın Kılıcı” (“Barbaros: Sword of the Mediterranean”). The good guys, women characters and, even maybe most importantly, the people working behind the scenes like the costume designers and cinematographers are all important in a period drama like this hit Turkish series, which revolves around the historical story of Ottoman sailors the Barbarossa brothers. However, I had a nagging feeling that I was still not hitting the nail. I was being oblivious to some aspect of the series that was staring at me right in the eye. When I realized what I was missing, I discovered that there was so much to analyze and write about. If you are with me for the next few minutes, let us look more closely at the “bad guys” of “Barbaros: Sword of the Mediterranean.”
Producers utilize different kinds of portrayals of villains in the period drama while taking spectators on a historical journey with the Barbarossa brothers, whose naval campaigns helped establish Ottoman supremacy in the Mediterranean. They may be the outright vicious type – like the Antuan character, played by actor Devrim Evin. Donning the pirate outfit, Antuan may not exactly fit the league of a benevolent pirate idolized by young children. Along with being cruel, unfair and malicious, he is also a dangerous, scheming opponent. Immortality is often ridiculed to be the forte of our heroes who always seem to evade a gunshot or a stab wound to emerge the victor. However, in Antuan's case, it couldn't be more explicit. After being thrown into the sea after suffering mortal sword wounds, the character is brought back to life by witchcraft!
And then there is the character of Pietro, played by actor Yiğit Özşener. Handsome, with deep blue eyes and Greek features, Özşener is so completely into the character of Pietro that he enacts. His seamless acting makes it very difficult for the viewer to see where the personality of an actor ends and the character begins. Cold, calculative, scheming and ruthless, Pietro is a military head of the opponent who strives to establish Christian supremacy over the Mediterranean. This brings him into direct conflict with our protagonists Barbarossa brothers, namely Oruç (Aruj), Hızır (Khizr), Ishak and Ilyas, and drives the story forward. There is also a tragic past to this villain, drawing the audience's empathy. Diego, a character played by actor Gökay Müftüoğlu, is his accomplice and buddy from his difficult childhood.
Some villains do not cause harm intentionally. They just become party to the wrong cause by virtue of circumstances. Sylvio, played by the seasoned Turkish actor Ümit Çırak, is one such character. Having his son Martin captured by soldiers, Sylvio is often in conflict with his daughter Isabelle – his only family. While innkeeper Isabelle disobeys her father to help her sailor friend Oruç, as this Ottoman sailor is her only hope for bringing back her imprisoned brother, Sylvio is forced to side with the more powerful villain to protect his son and his daughter throughout the story. Subtle and yet powerful in his acting, Çırak keeps the viewer wondering about his character's next move.
And then there is the opportunistic villain in Yorgo, played by actor Mehmet Ali Kaptanlar. Yorgo, the father of Oruç’s lover-turned-wife Despina, takes revenge on Oruç for marrying his daughter by slaying the innocent family of Oruç’s brother Ishak through Antuan. Antuan is more than eager to oblige Yorgo as he is impatient to avenge the killers of his pirate brother.
In a game of chess, the pawn is the least powerful entity. This is also true in real life. A soldier is merely the one who executes the order. He has little authority to question an act of aggression or the levy to seek exemption from carrying out the order. And so Radko, played by Armağan Oğuz, also becomes the inadvertent villain. Tall and athletic, Oğuz plays the role of Radko – a leader of an army contingent who owes his loyalty to the opponent and reports to Pietro.
Drawing from creative drama, in life also we confront situations where we, as individuals, may not endorse an action we are compelled to carry out owing to decisions of a company, cult or country of which we are a part. We just decide to go with the flow, distancing from our inner conscience for a moment. I cannot and ought not judge that! But I think we should always be aware of the predicament and our conscious decisions. We cannot get rid of the blame on the pretext of being innocent perpetrators of a crime devised by someone superior. We are equally culpable if not more!
