When Turkisk Pop Met Italian Zombies
- salyangoz
- Jun 27
- 2 min read
The first time I watched Michele Soavi's cult film Dellamorte Dellamore (1994, also known as Cemetery Man), I was at Atilgan, a small shop in Atlas Pasajı. Its owner, Metin Demirhan (1965 – 2007) , had an old computer with a tiny screen where he loved to play scenes from his collection. He sold illegal copies of B-movies and all kinds of rare and obscure films.
It was the early 2000s, and the internet was still new in Turkey. Most people didn't have a computer at home. Places like Atilgan became meeting points where people could socialize, discover new films, music and books, and learn from one another. Even if you weren't planning to buy anything, you could
spend hours there, drinking the tea that Metin would modestly offer every visitor.
Metin could be an annoying man, but he had a big heart. It just took time to get past the walls he had built around it. Once you did, he would share everything he had with you. One of his greatest pleasures was showing customers the most unforgettable or outrageous scenes from the films in his collection on his old-fashioned computer. He loved watching their reactions almost as much as he loved the films themselves.
I was completely surprised when I saw Dellamorte Dellamore. It was unlike any film I had seen before. Until then, I had mostly grown up watching mainstream Hollywood films, simply because they were the only foreign movies regularly shown on Turkish television, alongside Turkish productions. The special effects in Dellamorte Dellamore were simple, almost handmade, and that only made the film more fascinating
Only later did I learn that the film was based on Dylan Dog, the famous Italian comic series created by Tiziano Sclavi. I eventually became a devoted fan of the comics as well.
But for me, as a Turkish viewer, the most astonishing moment came when the zombies climbed out of the cemetery and entered the house. Suddenly, I heard the unmistakable voice of Sezen Aksu. She was singing Hadi Bakalım, a cheerful Turkish pop song that every Turkish person knew by heart. Hearing it in the middle of an Italian zombie film was so unexpected that I could hardly believe my ears.
The song includes the line, "Eline diline hâkim ol, yoksa öcüler yer seni," which roughly translates as: "Watch your hands and your tongue, or the bogeymen will eat you." It is a playful warning telling someone to behave themselves and be careful about what they do and say. In the context of Dellamorte Dellamore, with zombies literally invading a house, the lyric felt strangely perfect.
However, what puzzled me then—and still does today—is why an Italian production chose a Turkish pop song for that scene. The cast was Italian, and I doubt many people involved in the film understood the lyrics. Was it simply chosen because of its upbeat rhythm, or did someone know the words meant?
That mystery is part of what has made Dellamorte Dellamore so unforgettable for me.
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