San Sebastian Syndrome

I’ve been carrying this idea around for years. The way a person dies impacts the sadness of those left behind. Imagine you die in a terrible car crash that leaves your limbs badly injured. People would feel even more sad because of how tragic it is. But if you were to pass away quickly and quietly, like from a small insect bite, it might be a bit easier for people to process just because the event lacks theatrical drama. That’s why, I often envision my final moments happening suddenly due to a bug’s bite while I’m traveling around Africa or Australia. To me, that’s a dignified end as it normalizes death.

Icy Dip into Ocean

In 2021, I attended the San Sebastian Film Festival in Spain, with my debut feature film, A Hero of Our Time (2023). I had it lined up for the work-in-progress section, where films still in the editing were competing for co-production awards. But this San Sebastian experience was a whole different from my typical film festival affair.

So, as someone who loves swimming, I couldn’t resist the charm of the beaches in San Sebastian. But, unfortunately, the waters were not as inviting as I had expected. The ocean greeted me with icy waters. Once I got out of the water, my fingers began to tingle, and dizziness clouded my head. I made the quick decision to get dressed, find a drier place, and lay down on a bench.

Now, could I die unexpectedly just because I took a dip in the ocean? That would truly be a tragicomic twist. People might not even have the time to show their sorrow. But, I wasn’t supposed to die. I had a film to finish. By my side was Emre, the assistant director, and the actor in the project involved in nearly every phase. I gave him instructions about what to do with the film if I were to meet my end. I insisted that he should not dedicate the film to my memory, and not engage in crass marketing tricks to exploit my demise. He just laughed at me instead of calling an ambulance.

Thankfully, I bounced back after half an hour, and we headed to our hotel to prepare for the award ceremony in the evening. Those festival people slipped a note under my door, a reminder of the ceremony. But, let me tell you, it played out like a classic film scene. The note slid under the door as if on cue. It had that cinematic tension, the kind where you’d expect it to read something like: Leave the cash in the bin and run. But why the urge to send a reminder message? Did we win the award?

The Syndrome

Despite the cautious reminder, we ended up arriving late for the ceremony. No worries, as they didn’t give us that award anyway. But, that night, my mind began to wander to thoughts of my tragicomic death again. That’s when the seeds of what I’d later call the San Sebastian Syndrome began to take root.

San Sebastian Syndrome is the art of assuming that any fresh, formidable, and unexpected problem we face will inevitably lead us down the darkest path. But more often than not, the worst-case scenario we think up doesn’t even come close to reality. Because major disasters are always black swans that emerge from unpredictable origins. Nowadays, I use this concept as my trusty tool. Whenever I find myself adrift and disoriented in a paranoid way, I remember my icy dip in the waters of San Sebastian. I tell myself: Just lie back and wait, this too shall pass.