Seanbaby
To create the illusion of star men vanishing into space, four actors stand as still as possible until the cameraman hits pause. Then it's simply a matter of running off frame without anyone bumping the camera. After screwing that up, the footage is handed over to the man in charge of the company penny. This man scrapes clumsy, almost random chunks of the film off until it looks like something has happened to the film in outer space.
Unfortunately, in a country whose leading export is oil wrestling, this process is also going to get a good deal of cloudy lubricant on the film. So we're left with what looks like an out-of-focus VCR accident.
Not to throw around wild accusations, but it's a suspicious coincidence that thousands of children disappear every year and Turkey's special effects look like they were designed by thousands of unwilling third graders. But in fairness to Turkish Star Trek, this example is taken way out of context. Every bad special effect is surrounded by shots of the Turkish Enterprise's female crew, and their regulation mini skirts so short that if they ran into their gynecologist at the grocery store, he'd feel like he was at work.
When they remade
Turkish Emerald City is such a breathtakingly crappy model that it would have cost
And when they get inside,
Turkish E.T. is a dystopian piece of cinema that will change the way you hate slimy moon turtles. First, Elliot and the other children go to school in what seems to be a bombed-out prison camp. Their playground is a wasteland of concrete rubble and dog corpses. Actual, no-bullshit dog corpses. I'm not sure if the dead animals have something to do with the plot or if they're some kind of unrelated tragedy of the Turkish school system they couldn't film around. That's how dark Turkish E.T. is-- you think that animal remains might be a blooper reel. You think that somewhere out there, there's a Turkish woman complaining that her deadbeat husband can't even hold down a job kicking dog corpses away from elementary schools.
This movie didn't have the budget of a Steven Spielberg production. In the American version, E.T. was played by a slime-seeping animatronic puppet piloted by a psychic boy genetically grown for only this purpose. They don't have that type of luxury outside Hollywood. When making a Turkish movie, it takes 3 weeks for budget approval to chase a cat through a formation of plastic army men. They had to cut a few corners when building their E.T. prototype and in the end, they went with a child wrapped in a quilt made of villager scrotums. It is fucked. The Turkish E.T. dodges your mind's comprehension in its formless madness. It looks like a dwarf died from hopelessness and someone tried to describe the killer to a police sketch artist.
When it came time to film, the director was stuck with this three foot monstrosity that looked like an image of Jesus that lost interest halfway through manifesting in an ashy elbow. Then inspiration slapped the filmmakers in the face with an elementary school dog corpse-- they could surround their crappy E.T. with an atmospheric yet concealing mist! All they need is a fog machine. The only problem: Turkish fog machines are made in Turkey.
Turkey doesn't only copy us, though. They invent some of their own Superman powers like his ability to walk arm-in-arm with another man with his sexuality supersecurity!
There's been a lot of mention in the film about a certain Krypton Rock being the only thing that can defeat Superman, so one of the thugs instead hits him with a chair. This knocks Superman into a barn explosion. Wait, a barn explosion? Did one of the goats eat a land mine or are Turkish filmmakers completely out of fucks to give?