At Atresmedia they cannot be more strategic regarding the series. Turkish dramas have worked wonders for them in primetime on their main channel and help them understand what stories their more traditional audience may be interested in when they produce on their own or, at least, what kind of stories they have become accustomed to.
Finding (not even occasionally) a bridge between the Iberian and the Turkish, therefore, is attractive for the company. And, after transforming Fatmagul into Alba with good results, they now choose to adapt The Turkish Passion, the best-seller by Antonio Gala, winner of the Planeta award, which is set in Istanbul and which Vicente Aranda brought to the cinema in 1994. with Ana Belén.
The main character, in this television version that Atresplayer premieres this Sunday, is not a married woman bored with her married life. Olivia (Maggie Civantos) is single and an expert in Byzantine art and, waiting to obtain a permanent position at a university in Madrid, she dedicates herself to painting and researching in the city formerly known as Byzantium.
She is about to return to her normal life when she suddenly meets Yaman (Ilker Kaleli). As her own series reveals, this leads to her downfall: in the present she wakes up in an Istanbul hospital after a suicide attempt. In her room she finds a police detective who threatens her: either she tells him everything she knows about Yaman and everything she did for him, or he will put her in jail.
Irene Rodríguez and Esther Morales, who have Beguinas pending release on the same platform, are behind a dramatic and passionate story designed to be so accessible that it falls into the poor, the obvious, in having every element or possible nuance of the plot on the surface in an embarrassing way.
“But you are very smart, intelligent, independent, beautiful,” Olivia’s friends tell her, so that we understand from the beginning how we should perceive her. “Why don’t you find a Turkish passion,” they advise him, so that we remember what the series promises.
Next, one sees how a fantasy unfolds for people bored with their married life and without excessive imagination: the sex scenes are filmed as has been done hundreds of times before, the scenes with friends have no spark (and fall into that (so falsely liberating terrain typical of Valeria and other feminine byproducts) and Olivia’s apartment has the ideal views, of course.
The romantic vision of Istanbul has a tourist look with little to contribute to the curious viewer (so that we understand each other, they sit in a bar and, of course, a witch has to come to predict a torrid future for the protagonist). And, when it comes to introducing that captivating but shady Yaman, Turkish Passion loses its way: you can’t tell me that the protagonist is intelligent and then have her act like a fool in the following scenes.
What’s trying to scam her? Of course she wants to know him more. What does a murky and poorly justified social context show you? Come on, I’m not going to distrust. That she hears a woman in her house while they talk on webcam? That she says phrases like “it’s not a place for women” or “why do you have to give your opinion on everything”? Don’t worry, Yaman, I’m moving to Istanbul for you, you don’t even need to hide on your first dates.
Those looking for a steamy series that has more stimuli beyond getting stuck in the shower with the water running, can pass by. Turkish passion does not fit this definition. But, hey, perhaps it is exactly the series it needs to be to later attract the Antena 3 audience when Atresmedia releases it openly (and while they look for artistic quality and challenge in other productions designed for Atresplayer such as Déjate ver or Cardo). .
