The Turkish Netflix drama series, Museum of Innocence, based on the novel of the same name by Nobel Prize-winning author Orhan Pamuk and set in 1970s Istanbul, revolves around a young man's despair and devotion. Kemal Basmaci, the youngest son of a family of textile exporters, was in love with Sibel, who belonged to the wealthy bourgeoisie to which Kemal belonged. The 1970s witnessed a clash between Western and conservative lifestyles, and people like Kemal and Sibel prided themselves on having a Western perspective. They had slept together before their marriage; Sibel believed she would marry him, so "going all the way" was a way of demonstrating her complete trust in him. Kemal was happy with her, but that was before he met her distant cousin, Fusun. They were not related by blood, and Fusun and her family were not as wealthy as Kemal's. Because of their social standing, they weren't invited to elegant gatherings, but that soon changed when Kemal became obsesse...
Aside from its big-name hits like Stranger Things, Emily in Paris, Squid Game, Wednesday, Bridgerton, and Monster, the crime genre is clearly Netflix's bread and butter. I can't pinpoint the exact moment this obsession began, but yes, the streaming platform has cultivated such a loyal audience that it can release even the most low-budget series or films; as long as they're set in some subgenre of crime, they'll be a success. And the most obvious consequence of this phenomenon, as with all phenomena in the entertainment world, is the emergence of a formula, since it allows a factory to mass-produce a product without really investing in quality. You have a kind of tormented detective in the protagonist's role, the most unsuspecting person in the cast is the true antagonist, there are a bunch of red herrings that prevent you from figuring out the twist too soon, and then everyone goes home happily ever after. Sure, some creators are allowed to experiment with this for...