Based on the real-life “honor killing” of 23-year-old Hatun “Aynur” Sürücü, a German woman of Turkish-Kurdish ancestry, A Regular Woman concerns an infamous crime committed in Berlin in 2005. The victim’s younger brother, Nuri, shot her point-blank for perceived offenses against an oppressive and brutal interpretation of Islam.
The film simultaneously works as both a very human story and police procedural. There also is a spooky element in that director Sherry Hormann assumes her German audience (though much less likely everyone else) knows about the famous victim, making Aynur’s death a foregone conclusion. Thus, Hormann has Aynur (Almila Bagriacik) narrate the tale of her killing from beyond the grave, giving her a compensatory last word on the notorious case.
We meet Aynur as a teen, living in Berlin with an enormous family crowded into a small apartment. Her parents and brothers are Sunni Muslim traditionalists, and three of her four brothers fall under the sway of a radical, woman-hating preacher at their mosque. Aynur attends school and thinks for herself, but is powerless to stop an arranged marriage at the age of 16 to a cousin.
When her husband privately sinks into shame and despair, and their scorn for her becomes abusive, she returns home, very pregnant. Aynur seeks government help to start a new, secular life, including a home for herself and her baby, plus a college education. But her newfound freedom as a single woman ramps up her family’s rage and that of other Turkish-Kurdish Muslims who know the situation. Things simply go from bad to worse, and after the murder, Hormann pivots interestingly to the crime’s aftermath. Suddenly the focus is on Evin (Lara Aylin Winkler), the girlfriend of Nuri (Rauand Taleb), and the pressure put on her to provide a false alibi to the police covering up Nuri’s bloody actions.
Aynur’s narration propels the story forward, eschewing transitions between phases of Aynur’s life and giving A Regular Woman a skillful urgency. Crafty editing, influenced by television true crime shows, often deliberately stops the film’s flow altogether, reducing scenes to snapshot images, a nifty device. Characters are each introduced in tabloid-like, black-and-white stills, as if to say, “remember this face.” The tragedy of Aynur’s death not only robbed her of a full life, we see it sweep up other innocents, making this tale hard to shake. Strongly recommended.