The Golden Age of Turkish TV Dramas: Why Do We Still Watch Them?

Asmalı Konak, Avrupa Yakası, Yaprak Dökümü, Aşk-ı Memnu, Ezel, Muhteşem Yüzyıl… It has been nearly a quarter of a century since these shows first aired. They have been off the air for years, yet they haven't been forgotten; some live on through reruns on YouTube, some through scenes shared on social media, some through lines and stories still etched into memory, keeping them relevant to this day. Behind these shows lies a craftsmanship we rarely see in today's fast production pace. Tracing that craftsmanship means understanding the history of Turkish television drama. In this piece, we'll be focusing specifically on the 2000-2015 period, often referred to as the golden age of Turkish television. Let's take a look together.

How It All Began

Turkey met television quite late compared to the rest of the world. Germany began regular television broadcasting in 1935, the United Kingdom in 1936, and the United States in 1939. Turkey's first trial broadcast was carried out by Istanbul Technical University in 1952, but regular broadcasting only began with TRT on 31 January 1968. In other words, Turkey arrived roughly thirty years behind the countries considered pioneers of television.

The first homegrown Turkish TV shows were made in the mid-1970s: in 1974, Kaynanalar, Turkey’s first sitcom, ran for a full 314 episodes. In 1975 came Aşk-ı Memnu (Forbidden Love), yes, the same novel, thirty-three years before the unforgettable 2008 adaptation. It was also the first Turkish show ever exported abroad, sold to France. Later, in 1985, Turkey was introduced to foreign shows, mainly from Brazil and the United States; when Escrava Isaura, The Young and the Restless, Dallas or The Bold and the Beautiful aired, the streets would empty out.

Throughout the 1980s and 90s, under TRT’s monopoly, homegrown shows like Perihan Abla, Kartallar Yüksek Uçar and Bizimkiler came to the screen; most told neighbourhood life and family relationships in a simple, direct language. In 1990, the era of private channels began with Star 1 (today’s Star TV), followed one after another by Show TV, Kanal D and ATV. The 90s were an extremely productive decade for Turkish television: shows like Süper Baba, Çılgın Bediş, Bir Demet Tiyatro, Kara Melek, Sıdıka, İkinci Bahar, Ruhsar, Yılan Hikayesi left their mark on the era’s screens. But the real boom came in the early 2000s: private channels could now allocate bigger budgets, invest more in scripts, and lean into long-running, high-quality projects. All the shows we’ll be discussing here, from Asmalı Konak to Aşk-ı Memnu, are products of this golden age of Turkish television.

A Phenomenon by the Numbers

From the early 2000s onward, the most talked-about productions in Turkish TV history arrived one after another. On the all-time list of highest series finale ratings: Asmalı Konak (2002-2004) with 28.50, Binbir Gece (1001 Nights, 2006-2009) with 28.00, Öyle Bir Geçer Zaman Ki (Time Goes By, 2010-2013) with 27.46, Aşk-ı Memnu (Forbidden Love, 2008-2010) with 27.10, Muhteşem Yüzyıl (Magnificent Century, 2011-2014) with 24.68, and Yaprak Dökümü (Leaf Cast, 2006-2010) with 23.62.

On the night of Asmalı Konak's finale in 2004, four out of every five televisions that were switched on were tuned to this show. The numbers weren't limited to ratings alone: Kurtlar Vadisi turned into a franchise that extended to cinema, both through its high ratings and the character "Polat Alemdar" it created. Aliye, which started the same year, also broke viewership records. Avrupa Yakası, penned single-handedly by Gülse Birsel, broke the record for the longest-running sitcom with 190 episodes; it gave life to more than one character who went on to reach cult status, and still lives on in popular culture today. Gümüş, with a hundred-million-dollar export deal, became the pioneer of Turkish television's international breakthrough. Ezel reached a wide fan base through international sales, especially in the Middle East, the Balkans and South America. Fatmagül'ün Suçu Ne? crossed Turkey's borders and reached a large audience, particularly in Latin America. Kuzey Güney, with its high ratings, became one of the most talked-about shows of the era.

The Craft of Screenwriting

Looked at closely, there is no coincidence behind the success of these iconic shows. Having a strong source novel isn’t enough on its own either; Turkey produced other adaptations of both Aşk-ı Memnu and Yaprak Dökümü, yet none are remembered with the same regard. What made the difference was the care taken in bringing the literary text to screen: the writer, the director and the cast coming together with the same level of dedication.

Çağan Irmak directed Asmalı Konak; he later turned to cinema, giving Turkish film unforgettable works like Babam ve Oğlum (My Father and My Son) and Issız Adam (Alone). Aşk-ı Memnu’s director was Hilal Saral. Yaprak Dökümü was shot by Mesude Erarslan. Binbir Gece’s director was Kudret Sabancı, who had already found similar success before this show with Aliye. Taylan Kardeşler (Durul and Yağmur Taylan) directed Muhteşem Yüzyıl; the duo went on to make significant work in cinema as well. Öyle Bir Geçer Zaman Ki’s director, Zeynep Günay Tan, later made her mark with İstanbullu Gelin (Bride if Istanbul), and this year with Masumiyet Müzesi (Museum of Innocence).

Most of the highest-rated, most talked-about shows on this list were written by women. Meral Okay wrote both Asmalı Konak and Muhteşem Yüzyıl, Mahinur Ergun co-wrote Asmalı Konak with her, the duo Ece Yörenç and Melek Gençoğlu wrote both Aşk-ı Memnu and Yaprak Dökümü, and later went on to write Fatmagül'ün Suçu Ne? and Kuzey Güney as well, and Yıldız Tunç wrote both Aliye and Binbir Gece. Gülse Birsel, Avrupa Yakası's sole writer, wrote the script for a new episode roughly every four days across six seasons, single-handedly carrying the show. It's hard to miss the contribution of a woman's perspective and interpretation behind those lines that left such a deep mark on viewers, lines in which, even years later, we still find a piece of ourselves.

The Humour Inside the Drama

Most of these shows fall under the drama category, yet none of them leave you in pure sorrow. The everyday bickering inside the mansion in Asmalı Konak, the sharp dialogue between characters in Aşk-ı Memnu, and in Yaprak Dökümü, the kind of back-and-forth that feels like something a member of your own family would say, all create that natural comic atmosphere. This too is part of the craft of screenwriting; a well-written drama draws you in not only by making you cry but by making you laugh as well. That’s why, in Yaprak Dökümü, when Hayriye says “he’s out from under my feet, good” after Ali Rıza leaves the house, we laugh at it as if it were a scene straight out of a home we know, rather than feeling like outsiders to it. Every so often, these characters also slip in a social or political jab. In Asmalı Konak, when Zeynep, Salih, Dicle and Bekir walk into a shop in Nişantaşı together and find the price pegged to the euro exchange rate, it’s handled with digs sharp enough to drag in Fidel Castro himself.

Music: The Voice That Carries the Soul

Another thing these shows have in common is the importance they placed on music. The wrong music can cool down even the right scene; the right music can make an ordinary moment unforgettable. The music for both Aşk-ı Memnu and Yaprak Dökümü was composed by Toygar Işıklı. For Aşk-ı Memnu, Işıklı wrote around thirty pieces, crafting a separate melody for nearly every character. The show’s main theme, its only track with lyrics, “Bir Günah Gibi” (Like a Sin), was performed together with Ajda Pekkan. Sertap Erener’s “Bu Böyle” (This Is How It Is), which played closer to the finale, became so tied to the show that it stayed identified with it for a long time. In Yaprak Dökümü, the opening theme was “Bana Herşey Uzak” (Everything Feels Distant to Me), while the closing theme carried the show’s own name, “Yaprak Dökümü.” Binbir Gece’s music was composed by Kıraç. Asmalı Konak, meanwhile, was one of the Turkish shows that used the most classical music in its history; alongside its original score, classical pieces played frequently throughout its scenes, giving it an elegance that later mansion dramas never quite matched.

A Mirror to Society: Both Critiquing and Reinforcing

None of these shows even attempted to present an ideal world. Asmalı Konak’s Cappadocia was a softened but still patriarchal order, where a woman’s place in the mansion was drawn by fixed moulds. And yet we still saw characters who never lost their own voice, who built a bridge between tradition and modernity, who stretched and at times crossed those moulds. Yaprak Dökümü bore witness to the tension urbanisation brings, as it told the story of a family that moved from the provinces to Istanbul and slowly came apart. In Aşk-ı Memnu, the moral cracks within high society, the power struggles, and the question of who truly belonged where, were all put under scrutiny. In its own category, Avrupa Yakası served a similar purpose; through its jabs at the media world and at the “beyaz Türk” (“White Turk”) lifestyle, it touched on the same social tensions, only through the lightness of comedy rather than the weight of drama. At the time they aired, these shows were the subject of university theses and academic research. The mere fact that they raised these issues, opening up a space for debate around different ways of life and social tensions, was valuable in itself.

A Record of an Era

On the other hand, these shows held up a mirror not only to society, but to us as well. Watching them today, you’re essentially opening a time capsule. They show you the era’s way of communicating, its fashion, the way people spoke to one another. But maybe the real reason these shows still feel so intimate, so nostalgic, lies somewhere else: in our own personal codes. Who we were at the age we first watched them, who we sat on that same sofa with, which evening ritual these episodes were part of; all of it has settled into our memory as an emotional layer independent of the show itself. So these shows don’t just document an era, they document who we were during it. And maybe that’s exactly why we keep opening them up and watching them again. Instead of trying to work out everything about an unfamiliar new story all at once, opening a familiar episode of your comfort show lifts that burden; your mind settles for simply watching rather than figuring things out. Maybe, at the end of a tiring day, sometimes while eating something, we return to these shows because we want to watch knowing nothing will surprise us; every scene in front of you is already familiar, every line already memorised.

Comparing to Today

When we look at today’s mansion or high-society shows, or at recent classic adaptations, we generally see a flatter world: characters with less dimension, supporting characters and even lead characters lacking depth, dialogue that stays surface-level and disconnected from today’s reality, and social critique that’s almost non-existent. What takes centre stage instead is a narrative about who holds more power, who is more dominant. The strong, multi-dimensional women characters of the early 2000s have largely been replaced today by male-centred stories built around power struggles. There’s a similar narrowing on the creative side too; variations of whatever has already worked get repeated, and hardly any creative risk is taken. The same stories, often with the same faces, are told over and over again, while productions capable of questioning, critiquing, or opening real space for debate are becoming increasingly rare. Yet those old shows gave us a more complex, more contradictory, more “real” world. Maybe that’s exactly why we still watch them; because they aren’t a flawless fairy tale, but the traces of a real society wrestling with the contradictions of its own time.