Professor Eylem Atakav:
Shaping Film studies through creative practice
In 2016, Prof Eylem Atakav took her expertise of film behind the camera to tell the stories of child brides in Turkey. Since then she has used her films to influence government policy and train health professionals who work with vulnerable groups. Here, Eylem discusses her story and what inspired her to go from film theorist to filmmaker.
Why did you decide to study in the UK?
Back in 2001, I knew I wanted to do a master’s degree and stay in academia, but my parents couldn't afford to send me abroad, so I hadn’t thought of studying overseas at that point.
As I was walking to a test to get onto a master’s course – it was snowing heavily that day and the floor was slippery – I fell over. I was soaking wet and covered in snow. I made it to the test but within 15 minutes I needed to use the bathroom – the examiners said no. It was awful. They said that if I left the room, I would have to leave the test. I had to leave though, so that was that.
"It was a sliding doors moment. If I had not fallen in the snow, if they had let me go to the bathroom, things would have been completely different."
I was devastated and didn't know what to do next. I headed back to Izmir, my hometown, to see my mum who was running a café. One day, I was sat in the empty café, really down, and I saw an old newspaper left on the table. In tiny font, in the middle pages, was an advert: ‘Study for your master’s in the UK.’ It was a Saturday afternoon and I didn’t expect the university office to to answer my call, but they did! In June, I got a call and was offered a full scholarship to study a master’s in Media at Southampton Solent University. It was a sliding doors moment. If I had not fallen in the snow, if they had let me go to the bathroom, things would have been completely different.
If you could give your younger self some advice, what would you say?
I would say: "Go for it!" My name, Atıl Eylem, literally means "go for action".
In Turkey, people’s names and surnames still have a sharp and immediate political resonance. This stems from a desire to reflect our changing realities – usually during turbulent times. My name has a link with the left-wing political activism in which my parents were involved in the 1970s.
The story behind my name refers to one of the left-wing journals, Atılım, which had to be published in secret. It makes me proud to carry a connection to these activists in my name, many of whom were either killed or tortured for their ideas. This extraordinary responsibility attached to my identity has become pivotal in my research and teaching.
How did you start working at UEA?
While I was studying for my MA, which I loved, I started working as a book shelver in the Library. This is where I acquainted myself with feminist film theory books. Suddenly, that area of the library was beautifully organised! Then I started my PhD and worked for the International Office. I was recruiting students from Turkey and this helped pay for my tuition fees. I was then asked to teach on the Film Studies course. At the same time, I was working in a restaurant. At one point I was working four jobs alongside my PhD!
After that, a junior Lecturer role came up at UEA, so I headed there. After teaching Media Studies modules in the Politics department, I got a permanent role in Film, Television, and Media Studies, and have taught modules on world cinemas, documentary, Middle Eastern cinema, women and film. I have since taken on a few leadership roles on internationalisation and global engagement at School, Faculty, and University levels.
What inspired you to start making films?
Back in 2015, I was sitting in the UEA office and looking at representations of 'honour' killings in films from the Middle East, and gender-based violence and so on. I got to thinking that there are so many free opportunities at UEA: the media suite, the TV studio, editing rooms – places that outside the university you would have to pay thousands of pounds to use. Not only that, but I have great colleagues and great students – a whole brainstorming workforce! So, I said to myself: go and talk to these women that I’m theorising about.
"For the first time in her life, she spoke about her own child marriage."
But this was also triggered by a discussion with my mum’s neighbour. She came to me and said: “My daughter is 16. She says she wants to get married to this man in his thirties and give up school.” She was crying and I didn’t know why she was telling me this, but she eventually said: “You’re closer to her age. You’re an educator. Maybe you can talk to her?” I offered to, but I could tell there was something else she wanted to reveal to me. For the first time in her life, she spoke about her own child marriage. How she was forced at 13 to marry a much older man. How she was raped and became pregnant. She had been through so much violence. Her daughter was born with a broken arm because she was beaten so badly when she was pregnant.
I asked her if she'd share this story and that was how Growing Up Married began. From there, the word spread. People knew I was in town making the documentary and came knocking at the door. Two girls came late one night to ask if I was the one making the film about child brides. They wanted to participate. The next day one of them came back to say her husband heard about it and had threatened to beat her if she spoke to me.
Most of the women in the film were able to speak because they had divorced, fled the marriage, or their partners had died, but to this day I don’t share access to the whole film freely.
Who else was involved in making the film?
My students and colleagues. They taught me how to subtitle, they taught me how to edit. We did it all together, so when we released the film I included them in the Q&As and they’re credited too.
What impact has the film had?
The media engagement after the film helped to build links with parliament and charities. The film doesn’t have the power in itself to change laws, but it puts pressure on those in power, and opens the debate to a wider audience. I was able to take the documentary to the government and the Norfolk Constabulary, which put me on to the Domestic Abuse and Violence Board. I got involved in the All-Party Parliamentary Group for Population, Development and Reproductive Health.
These connections also became opportunities for my students. When Westminster asked me to contribute to a report they were writing about British Muslim values, I flipped the assignment to my students who had worked on and studied Growing Up Married. They responded to the questions put to me by the government and were all cited in the report.
"That’s what’s so fascinating to me about the power of film: four women who have never left their own villages, let alone their country, travelled through their stories to the UK."
I'm very proud that the film and the people involved made these things happen. That’s what’s so fascinating to me about the power of film: four women who have never left their own villages, let alone their country, travelled through their stories to the UK.
There is a lot of value in theorising in academia, but there is also a huge amount in engaging with the public and talking to stakeholders that you wouldn’t otherwise engage with – these actions help to create some kind of societal cultural change.
What came after Growing Up Married?
Off the back of the documentary, came Lifeline which looked at domestic violence helplines. Due to the coronavirus pandemic, it was all filmed on Zoom, but I needed to capture an historical moment as it was happening; these people were on the frontlines, answering calls from people who desperately needed help.
I wanted to investigate what [the helpline workers] were going through when the lockdowns were happening and how they dealt with vicarious trauma. The connection made during that production led me to work with Karoline Pelikan on Left Behind. Together, Karoline and I identified the gap in policy with regard to people with no recourse to public funds, where state benefits such as housing assistance and tax credits are unavailable to certain migrants. That's when we switched our focus to migrant women and their lack of support in times of victimisation within relationships.
"Each of these tiny victories, they all build up to bigger change."
The three films I've worked on are linked by topic, and all highlight societal injustices with the hope that change happens. For example, Safe Lives – one of the UK's leading domestic abuse charities – saw Left Behind and have committed to running mental health support sessions for their staff. Each of these tiny victories, they all build up to bigger change.
With such sensitive topics, there must be significant barriers to making these types of films. How do you overcome these?
Trust building. This was key in producing Left Behind. It took about two years, if not longer, to build the relationships that led to those interviews. To show who we are, that we meant it and that we cared about their issues, we attended meetings and events for charities like Southall Black Sisters, not to develop a transactional relationship where they would engage with our film, but because we wanted to. We weren’t with them in a performative way. We meant it and we stay in touch with many of our participants.
The same can be said with MPs and policymakers. Building trust was key. I did my best to simply highlight our passion and that we would appreciate any way they could work with us to help these groups. I can be a little irrepressible when it comes to things like this!
"People know when you’re being genuine. They see it in your eyes."
People know when you’re being genuine. They see it in your eyes. This is what happened with one of the brides on Growing Up Married. She confided that she cut her hair short because her husband used to cruelly take pleasure in pulling it when it was long. So she kept it really short. That was her strategy, and she did this way past the end of her marriage. Some time after finishing filming, I received a letter from her. She said that since speaking about her experience she’s been growing her hair. Years later we’re still in touch. Every time I screen a film I speak to her about how it went. She recently got in touch to tell me her hair was now too long!
What are you working on next?
My next involvement with film is as a producer on a documentary about forced migration. I haven't been involved in the shooting of the film at all but the connections I've made mean I may be able to help with distribution and getting the film into festivals. I'm also hoping to write a short book about the impact of filmmaking in academia.
All images courtesy of Eylem Atakav.