Flying Saucers Over Istanbul (Turkey, 1955)

Well, I'll be damned. Here I was thinking that this film no longer existed, and here it is. It's like Flying Saucers Over Istanbul (aka Ucan Daireler Istanbulda) just showed up at its own funeral, looked around at the stunned mourners, and was all like, "What?"

Aside from the obvious, there are two big positives whenever one of these "lost" films surfaces. The first is that it serves as a reminder of the fact that something is only lost until it's found, and renews hope among film geeks from shore to shore that other of our holy grails will eventually turn up (as some of them certainly will). The second is about expectations. Since I had never entertained the notion that I would ever actually get to see Flying Saucers Over Istanbul, I had never built up any expectations around it, and so ran very little risk of being disappointed when the chance to see it came a-calling.

For those of you who do have expectations built up around Flying Saucers Over Istanbul, hypothetical as you may be, let me say this: If those expectation are built upon the action-packed Turkish trash cinema from the 60s and 70s that so many of us have come to know and love, be forewarned that this film is a wholly different animal.  That, however, is not to say that it's something we haven't seen many, many times before. In fact, regular 4DK readers will likely recognize it as a type of film that I've covered with almost numbing regularity, a type that pops up during just about the same period in seemingly every film culture in which science fiction is not a staple genre.

Be it Egypt's A Trip to the Moon, India's Trip to Moon, or Mexico's  Conquistador de la Luna, all of these films boast certain key elements: comically bumbling Earthlings, lady aliens who look more like Rockettes than rocket jockeys, cardboard box robots, and a trifling narrative that takes stock situations from American science fiction films of the 50s and attempts, with varying degrees of success, to milk them for laughs. While a film like Flying Saucers Over Istanbul could technically be called a pioneering example of Turkish science fiction cinema, the truth is that, as in those other mentioned films, its science fiction elements are less its reason for being than they are simply a timely novelty on which to hang some gags. If any American film could be said to have influenced the picture, it is more likely to be The Three Stooges in Orbit or Abbott and Costello go to Mars than it is Forbidden Planet.

Beyond that, a lack of English translation prevents me from going into much detail regarding FSOI's plot. I will say, though, that whatever that plot is, the filmmakers didn't see it as being so important that they couldn't interrupt it for a lengthy belly dancing number every five minutes. Combined with the comedic hijinks, this gives the film something of the feel of a feature length burlesque skit. Many of the opportunities for these terpsichorean interludes are provided by the nightclub setting in which much of the action takes place, but the alien babes, when we check in with them, also prove to be born of a dedicatedly hip-wiggling culture. In addition to this, the film also introduces a Marilyn Monroe impersonator at one point -- billed in the credits as "Mirella Monro" -- and she too hits the boards, performing a split screen number in which she belly dances opposite herself. With all of these fleshy distractions on display, it becomes very clear that no assumptions were made on the part of the film's producers that the spectacle of flying saucers and extraterrestrial visitation would be enough to get Turkish audiences into the seats.

What story there is to the film centers around a classic straight-man-and- stooge comic duo comprised of a loafing newspaper reporter and his stuttering photographer partner. After the requisite scene of them getting chewed out by their irascible editor and some unrelated belly dancing, the two of them, for some reason, sneak into an observatory, where they intercept an audio transmission from space. Soon after, a flying saucer lands outside and a chorus line of shapely female ETs files out, accompanied by the aforementioned cardboard box robot. Later the duo are unable to capitalize on their big scoop because the space ladies, upon discovering them, confiscate their camera, and they thus have no proof of the encounter. They do, however, have a bottle that the ladies have given them, which appears to contain some kind of alien booze -- only that end ups going missing. Great effort is then expended to retrieve that bottle, with, I assume, much hilarity ensuing. In the end the amorous femaliens take enough of a shine to the two human bumblers to want to take them home with them. And so off they go in the flying saucer, over Istanbul,  smooching all the way.

I wish I had more to say about Flying Saucers Over Istanbul, but I'm afraid that those things that set it apart, and distinguish it culturally (other than the belly dancing, that is), are most likely confined to its dialog. Because, from a purely visual standpoint, it comes across as being based on what is coming to seem like a fairly generic template. That being a template that involves sexy space ladies and clunky man-in-suit robots, however, I don't want to come across as being too dismissive. By now I suspect that we're going to see cropping up examples of these type of hapless-Earthmen-meet-sexy-cosmic-cuties movies from everywhere from Micronesia to Mauritius, and I don't want to suggest that that is in any way a bad thing. In fact, it is, in essence,  pretty much the whole reason that this blog exists. Bring 'em on, World!

UPDATE: 4DK reader/commentor Tuğba was kind enough to write in from Turkey to fill me in on the finer details of Flying Saucers Over Instanbul's plot. Apparently, the nightclub at which all of the belly dancing is taking place is a spinsters' club, and the women there have hired the belly dancers in order to lure potential husbands into the place. (You know, I was wondering why all of those old ladies were hanging out in a belly dancing club.) Also, the bottle that the space babes give the two klutzy reporters contains a youth serum, or "unaging" potion, which explains why everyone is so hot to get their hands on it. Lastly, the reason for said space babes visit to Istanbul is that time honored necessity that has seen so many amazonian extraterrestrials make their way to our green planet over the course of film history: the need to replenish their planet's dwindling supply of men. Damn those men with their shorter life spans and unhealthy habits! The next group of femaliens to hit our shores might also want to stock up on Stairmasters, Nicoderm patches and soy burgers in order to keep the new herd around a little longer. Just sayin'.

Anyway, Tuğba's comment goes into much greater detail than what I have referred to above, and deserves to be read in its entirety. Scroll down to the comments section below this post to check it out for yourself.