A True Gentleman is not a happy movie, so it shouldn’t have a happy ending. Because of this, I can’t help but feel like its climax suggesting that Saygin and Nehir might end up together after all is a bit of a cop-out. Don’t worry, though – I’ll explain.
The Turkish Netflix movie is a bit of a con. It uses the bones of an archetypal rom-com to build out a more nuanced story about transactional relationships and existential crises. It begins with the premise of a gigolo beginning to reconsider his life choices in the aftermath of falling for a beautiful woman, and then spends almost its entire runtime suggesting that leaving a life of deception isn’t a particularly easy thing to do.
The age-old story of the self-centred seducer charming his way into the heart of the audience and whatever starlet he’s wooing is very familiar. The idea that, in reality, he wouldn’t be able to get away with it is less common, and A True Gentleman’s best quality. It makes the movie less fun, but more interesting.
This is why it’s a shame that right at the very end, the screenplay backs out. It delivers a suitably miserable conclusion and then staples on an epilogue suggesting it’ll all work out after all. Why? This would be a much more interesting movie if it didn’t work out.
But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
Kado’s Life and Death
Consider Saygin’s backstory. His mother died in a house fire while he was at school and his best friend, Kado, was wounded trying to save her. This formed a brotherly bond between the two that hasn’t diminished despite Saygin’s roaring success in the sex trade, despite Kado being in the same industry and much less successful.
So, already, Saygin’s got a problem here. His best friend is a reminder of his deepest trauma, his roots, and makes him a victim of his own success. His desire to push Kado to the same heights he has achieved forces Kado to make brutal personal compromises – like working for clients who are openly abusive – and become addicted to performance-enhancing pills just to keep up.
Saygin volunteering Kado’s services to Serap to make Fulya feel better about herself is playing with his friend’s life, using him as a piece on his own personal gameboard. Kado and Fulya get on well, eventually, but their situation leads to its own share of problems. Eventually, Kado is pushed so far that he overdoses on his performance pills, and Saygin is forced to grapple with the pain of losing the only person he had ever truly cared for in his life – other than the one he had already lost.
Nehir Was A Bridge Too Far For Saygin
We haven’t even mentioned Nehir yet. Saygin met and fell for her while he was living a complete lie funded entirely by Serap. Nothing about him was real, and he kept almost every aspect of himself a secret or this reason. It went on so long that there would never be a right time to tell Nehir the truth. And yet she still finds out in the worst way possible, catching Saygin holding Serap in bed.
Now, to be fair, this is a platonic, supportive gesture – Saygin is reassuring Serap about her cancer diagnosis (she’s mostly worried about losing her hair through the treatment, which I suppose speaks volumes about the kind of woman who would pay for exclusivity from a gigolo.) But it isn’t like he hasn’t been in bed with her before under different circumstances.
With all this in mind it was impossible for Saygin and Nehir’s relationship to work out, and I was glad that it didn’t. That felt right. Sad, granted, but right for the story being told.
And then A True Gentleman’s ending undermines it.
The Cop-Out
In the final scenes, set three years later, we see that Saygin has reinvented himself and worked hard to open his own restaurant. This personal development would, I think, have been enough.
But then Nehir walks in. Not with a boyfriend, having moved on with her life, but with her band mates. She’s also a success now, being a professional musician. And, of course, she invites Saygin to her upcoming show.
Now, I suppose it isn’t strictly confirmed that Saygin and Nehir will end up together, but that’s certainly the implication. And it’s the wrong conclusion, if you ask me. It isn’t that I want Saygin to be miserable and alone, but it felt like he should be based on the movie we’d just watched. Sometimes, a happy ending isn’t what you need. And, in life, it’s rarely the one you get. That note of authenticity would have made for a more memorable film.
