Cengiz Tacer

Cengiz Tacer, born late August of ‘38 in Edirne, has this kind of old-school film guy aura that’s hard to fake. He’s the name behind the camera for some of Turkey’s more iconic flicks—Ankara Ekspresi (1970) is probably the one that rings a bell if you’re into the classics. That film? It’s all moody espionage vibes, with shadows and train whistles and that whole Cold War tension, and Tacer’s work made Ankara feel like the center of the universe for a couple hours. Then there’s Zulüm (1972)—which, honestly, leans dark and gritty. Tacer cranks up the rawness, squeezing out every ounce of drama from the city’s alleys and faces. He wasn’t interested in making things look pretty; he wanted you to feel the rough edges, the desperation, the punch of every scene. And you can’t skip over Arim Balim Petegim (1970). That one’s a bit softer, more romantic, but Tacer still manages to slip in those gorgeous, honey-drenched shots that stick in your brain. He’s got this knack for balancing light and shadow, making even a simple village look like it’s hiding a secret. The guy’s a legend for a reason—even if you don’t know his name, you’ve probably seen the world through his lens if you’ve watched any Turkish film from that era. His fingerprints are all over the golden age of Turkish cinema, and honestly, he deserves a standing ovation.