REVIEW: ‘Oh Belinda,’ Why Did You Even Bother?

Oh Belinda (2023) is a Netflix Original Turkish-language remake of a well-regarded 1986 film Aaahh Belinda directed by Deniz Yorulmazer and written by Hakan Bonomo. Simply put, this movie had no reason to be made. Dilara (Neslihan Atagül) is an actress hoping to break into bigger roles. She unwittingly accepts a part in a shampoo commercial where she must portray a traditional housewife to fulfill the director’s extreme and intense demands. Only, she struggles through take after take. Suddenly, becomes stuck in the world of the commercial as the housewife of Handan herself.

Oh Belinda just doesn’t know what kind of movie it wants to be. Is it a modern pop-comedy, with a boppy soundtrack? Is it a thriller, making a point about feminism through its moments of intensity? Strive as the movie does to be both at once—a totally reasonable goal—it doesn’t really succeed in capturing either. Its moments of comedy are there. Especially as Dilara runs amuck trying to escape the world she’s stuck in.

Or when she’s the victim of yet another surprise in the false life she’s living. But they’re undermined by bizarre plot turns that just aren’t funny. There’s a whole sub-plot that wasn’t part of the original movie involving Handan’s gross boss and several layers of trouble they’ve gotten themselves into.

The thriller notes are also too short-lived and played off for laughs. There are tiny shifts in the atmosphere during several scenes where Handan’s husband Necati (Necip Memili) comes onto her aggressively and she resists him, or just constantly berates their children. But instead of leaning into the genuine danger that he puts them all in as a clearly aggressive man who objectifies his wife and kids, Oh Belinda makes Necati into more of a dufus instead. It’s not a bad choice unto itself, but because the air thickens and the music darkens just the tiniest bit when these scenes come up, playing him off as a fool rather than a threat is disappointing.

Oh Belinda just doesn’t know what kind of movie it wants to be.

The original version of the film starred Müjde Ar, a highly decorated and celebrated revolutionary actress in Turkish cinema. In the 1986 rendition, which won several prestigious awards including for best actress, Ar’s character stands out as distinctly feminist for the time. She has dyed red hair, sharp lipstick, and a bold style. There few other women are dressed as such.

She’s also an evident francophile, which marks her as “educated,” “worldly,” and “interesting.” Her resistance to her husband is stronger and more prolonged originally. He’s depicted as more of a villain she has to escape than whatever he’s supposed to be in the 2023 version. The character’s refusal to give into the role she’s supposed to play in this world is elevated by the multiple other female characters to support her repeatedly throughout the movie.

In 2023, we instead open the movie with a petty rivalry between Dilara and a fellow actress. She’s the villain in the remake, which itself isn’t inherently disinteresting, but in the context of the original production and the movie’s conclusion, the choice today feels myopic. The greatest sin of Oh Belinda is that it gives into the commercial director’s messed-up vision. Dilara can’t escape unless she forfeits herself to the housewife ways.

It’s not to say that keeping a home, cooking for your husband, and loving your kids can’t be feminism. It’s that this isn’t what Dilara wants. She’s coerced into it. This happens in the original too. But there, the movie is more evidently a thriller. We know it’s a bad thing, whereas here, the messages and tones are so muddled that it just comes across as nothing out of the ordinary by the time Dilara concedes.

And it still doesn’t even matter by the end. The completely outlandish conclusion of Oh Belinda (2023) does another one-eighty and declares freedom the most important element again. It’s just a mess of tonal shifts. They’re much too hard to follow because they never seemed to have a clear direction from the start. The singular redeeming quality of Oh Belinda is Atagül’s performance. She acts the heck out of her role. The distress is all over her physicality and her ability to keep up with the dramatic swings in tone is completely admirable.

Oh Belinda is a remake that adds nothing to the conversation its original movie initiated. If anything, it muddles the message with its tonal uncertainty. It’s very well-acted, but unfortunately just doesn’t have much else to grab you by.

Oh Belinda is available to stream exclusively on Netflix.