When Naci reports Alev’s disappearance, Tayfun realizes he must act. Putting on his Superman costume, complete with the unauthorized John Williams theme blaring in the background, he springs into action. We soon learn that while Professor Çetinel wants to use the Krypton stone for the good of all humanity, Ekrem will use it for his greedy purposes. Either way, this is a job for Superman.
First off, you’ve got to admire the sheer balls it takes to make a Turksploitation movie. I’ve already reviewed 3 Dev Adam, where Captain America teams up with a lucha wrestler to take down the villainous Spider-Man. What we call fan fiction here in the States, the rest of the world just flat-out calls copyright infringement. And while some names have been changed to protect corporate intellectual property, Süpermen Dönüyor lifts Superman’s origin story, his supersuit, and John Williams’ score—oh, and even the James Bond theme—for good measure.
Süpermen Dönüyor reminds me of Adam West Batman. There’s not a lot of production value—just a suit and the kind of cheap visual effects only the 70s could deliver. The “campiness” of Superman is treated with the most deadly of seriousness. At least the filmmakers understand that Superman stands for truth, justice, and the Turkish way.
Güngör Bayrak as Alev shares a scene with Tayfun Demir in the unauthorized Turkish Superman film Süpermen Dönüyor.
“The ‘campiness’ of Superman is treated with the most deadly of seriousness.”
As Superman, Tayfun Demir is far more George Reeves than Christopher Reeve. He’s a Boy Scout, even though he uses his X-Ray vision to look at women naked. If anything, he’s got to keep Alev safe no matter how elaborate Ekrem’s traps are.
Süpermen Dönüyor is the kind of film that has to be seen to be believed. As a film, it’s not good, but whenever Film Threat receives a copyright or trademark claim, I find myself drawn to Turkish Superman.
Although clearly a money grab, it offers a fascinating glimpse into a time when filmmakers were more concerned with entertaining Turkish youth than securing rights. Sure, the special effects are laughable and the story barely holds together, but that’s exactly what makes it so much fun to watch. Turksploitation cinema like this is pure cinematic bootlegging—and we’re all the better for it.
"…Pure cinematic bootlegging—and we’re all the better for it."
