Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Kubra’ on Netflix, a Turkish Thriller Series in Which a Traumatized Veteran Receives Text Messages From the Divine

The haunted-tech premise gets a spiritual twist in Kubra (now on Netflix), a Turkish series about a traumatized vet whose spiritual awakening is exacerbated by a series of cryptic text messages from… who exactly? Kubra, that’s who. And Kubra might be Allah himself, which seems like a pretty big deal – and a potentially compelling scenario for this eight-episode mystery-thriller. 

KUBRA: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

Opening Shot: Sparks and flame on wet pavement. Voiceover: “Why do I exist?” the voice asks. “Does my existence have a purpose?”

The Gist: The spark is from a downed power line. The wet pavement, gasoline. It leaked from a crashed car. Inside, a boy pounds on the window. Gokhan (Cagatay Ulusoy) rescues him just before the scene erupts into flame. The voiceover continues, musing on destiny, meaning, purpose. “What if Allah put me on a mission to save that child?” Gokhan asks via voiceover. He wonders if he’s instinctively “looking for death.” So many big questions. Huge ones. Heavy ones. All in the first two minutes of a series. Guess this is our cue to hang on tight!

Soon thereafter, Gokhan sits in a shopping mall with his girlfriend Merve (Aslihan Malbora), when he gets a notification on his phone. It’s on an app called Soultouch, from a person named “Kubra.” For non-Turkish speakers, let it be known that Kubra is a popular girl’s name, so Merve wonders if he’s sniffing around elsewhere, but honestly, that doesn’t seem to be at all part of Gokhan’s personal M.O. He’s a solid dude. Works as a manager in a machine shop. A good friend to the chaps in his soccer club, who cheer him for rescuing the boy, and don’t seem to be the types who’d risk themselves like he did. He came back from the army, scarred by his experience; he became deeply religious and gave up drinking. He replies to Kubra: “I have a girlfriend. Sorry.” 

Kubra doesn’t go away, though. “I’m looking at Merve right now,” Kubra messages. A creeper, eh? Maybe – Kubra insists he/she/they has eyes and ears everywhere. OK. Why eff with Gokhan? I think we’re going to find out eventually, right? But not before we learn that our man is a big thinker, a philosopher of sorts. He works hard and is responsible. He lives with his mother, who seems troubled, and his sister, who also seems troubled. He worries about his friend and coworker Serhat (Aytek Sayan), who struggles with addiction. He has good intentions toward Merve, who’s expecting a proposal sooner rather than later. 

Gokhan is at work one day when the father of the rescued boy comes in. He embraces Gokhan, tells him the boy is seriously ill and getting worse. What terrible irony. The man leaves and Kubra chimes on Gokhan’s phone: WRONG DIAGNOSIS, the message reads. What the hell. Gokhan feels… something. He chases the man down, suggests he get a second medical opinion. This is not nothing, but Gokhan deletes the app. In flashback, we see Gokhan barely survive an attack on his army barracks; he was the lone survivor. 

When he’s not looking, Soultouch reinstalls itself, which is an even more egregious act of intrusive tech than the great U2-iTunes invasion of 2014. Gokhan gets more cryptic messages, prompting a visit to the mosque. He tells his imam about the strange messages, and the guy insists it’s coincidence, like any reasonable person would. The next day, the boy and his father visit Gokhan. He was right. The boy was misdiagnosed. Gokhan saved his life again. This isn’t the big hook at the end of the episode, though. That’s coming, right after Kubra messages Gokhan again. 

What Shows Will It Remind You Of? Netflix’s Messiah covered similar savior-on-Earth territory.

Our Take: Kubra dead-seriously hard-sells a potentially hokey concept – and manages to be convincing and engaging, setting its hook pretty deep with its debut episode. What will Gokhan do with his, well, what should we call it? Gift? Curse? Divine knowledge? And it’s almost certainly divine, right? It sure seems like Kubra will be giving him a heads-up on future events, setting up an internal conflict that threatens to become external: Will he act on this information and risk being labeled a wacko? Or will he ignore it and watch terrible things happen? 

The series’ opening salvo establishes a setting in a gritty locale with appropriately gritty characters – a hardscrabble borough of Istanbul populated with weathered types working humble jobs. They let loose on the soccer pitch and afterwards over drinks with their mates; they struggle with addiction and depression and, in Gokhan’s case, PTSD. But Gokhan is more of a philosopher than the others, even before his smartphone bleeps with missives from the great unknown. When the world becomes too much for him, he retreats to a remote shack, lights a small fire and wrestles with survivor’s guilt – and it sure seems like he believes he should have died, and therefore needs to do something with this gift-slash-curse being presented to him. Doing nothing would just be irresponsible. An act of denial. And just plain wrong.

So Kubra sets up an ethical quandary ripe for fascinating narrative exploration. The performances are thoughtful and earnest, and the direction shows a flair for visual dynamics and memorable imagery. In a time when modern technology is increasingly ungodly – and please interpret “ungodly” however you wish – and a burning bush just isn’t as convincing, it’s quite the luscious irony to find a deity using a smartphone to work in mysterious ways.

Sex and Skin: None so far.

Parting Shot: Gokhan kneels on the ground, gasping, looking at the sky.

Sleeper Star: There’s significant tension between Serhat and Gokhan, Sayan playing the wayward-soul foil to Ulusoy, and establishing himself as the series more earthly dramatic catalyst.

Most Pilot-y Line: “Anyone would have done it,” Gokhan insists of his daring rescue. But is Gokhan just “anyone”? Doesn’t seem like it.

Our Call: Kubra takes a strong idea and executes it smartly. STREAM IT.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.