Winner of the Silver Bear Grand Jury Prize at the Berlinale, Emin Alper’s Salvation (Kurtulu?) confirms the Turkish filmmaker’s reputation as one of contemporary cinema’s most incisive observers of power, fear, and collective psychology. Set in a remote mountain village where old land disputes and buried resentments erupt with renewed force, the film unfolds as both a political allegory and a deeply human tragedy, a story in which religion, authority, and survival collide with unsettling inevitability.
At the center of the film is Mesut, the brother of a local leader, whose disturbing visions begin to blur the boundaries between faith, paranoia, and political ambition. As tensions rise within the community, Salvation explores how fear can reshape entire societies, transforming private anxieties into collective violence. Rather than offering easy moral answers, Alper constructs a world where power is fluid, truth is contested, and ordinary people become swept into forces larger than themselves.
In conversation, Alper describes the film as born from a long-standing fascination with stories that reflect both local realities and global patterns, particularly the ways authoritarian dynamics emerge through fear and populism. Drawing on rural landscapes, mystic traditions, and the visual language of the Western genre, the director crafts a stark, expressionistic vision in which the mountains themselves seem to bear witness to humanity’s oldest conflicts.
What first inspired you to make Salvation, and when did you decide to turn this story into a film?
Emin Alper: The story stayed with me for a long time because I found it both horrific and deeply unsettling. I decided to adapt it in the mid-2010s, when I realized it wasn’t just a local story. It has global relevance, especially in a time when authoritarian leaders around the world are able to manipulate fear and shape collective behavior.
Religion and mysticism play an important role in the film, especially through the mosque, the Imam, and the dream sequences. How did you approach this world?
Emin Alper: In Sufi traditions, challenging the leader is generally not possible. I wanted to create an artificial world where I could inject political tensions into that structure. In reality, conflicts often emerge after the death of a leader, when power struggles begin and communities divide. The dreams are also part of that world. They relate to Mesut’s fears and neuroses, but they also connect to mystic traditions where dreams are seen as divine messages. As those dreams spread, they help create collective paranoia, everyone begins to believe the same fears and expectations.
Your films often return to rural landscapes rather than major cities. Why does the countryside attract you as a setting?
Emin Alper: I don’t decide that consciously before writing. The stories themselves bring me there. In my recent films, I wanted to create a microcosm of Turkey, a smaller world that reflects larger social and political realities. The countryside naturally becomes that space.
There is also a strong clash between mountain communities and people living on the plains. What does this conflict represent for you?
Emin Alper: These are eternal human conflicts. You can find them in the Bible and in ancient history, clashes between clans, families, and ways of life. Wars and massacres have always existed. In the film, this conflict is connected to religious and cultural identities, but it also taps into something much older and more universal about human nature.
Western genre influences are visible in your work. How did they shape Salvation?
Emin
Alper: Westerns have influenced almost all my films, especially in
terms of landscape and storytelling. I watched many Westerns as a child.
At first it wasn’t a conscious decision, but when I started shooting, I
realized how naturally those elements appeared. I see parallels between
the American South and parts of my own country, bigotry, isolated
communities, fear of outsiders, and those similarities make the genre
feel relevant.
The visual language of Salvation is striking, with strong contrasts and expressionist shadows. How did you develop that look?
Emin
Alper: From the beginning, I imagined a dark film with strong
chiaroscuro and expressionist imagery. I worked with two
cinematographers, together we prepared the visual approach, colors, and
atmosphere before shooting. We wanted to achieve as much as possible
in-camera, so the color correction afterward was minimal.
How important was location scouting in shaping the film?
Emin
Alper: It was essential. I spent more than a year searching for the
right location. Once I found it, I rewrote parts of the script to
respond to the environment. Some dream sequences changed completely
after seeing the landscape. The production designer then added elements
that helped shape the final world of the film.
What were the biggest challenges during production?
Emin
Alper: Time and budget were the biggest obstacles. We had strict
limitations, so we rehearsed extensively, even with extras, especially
for ritual scenes and large confrontations. We traveled long distances
to the rural set every day and worked long hours in difficult
conditions, sometimes in intense heat, sometimes in freezing cold. It
was physically demanding for everyone.
You even appear in the film yourself as the doctor. How did that decision come about?
Emin
Alper: Sometimes it’s difficult to find the right person for smaller
but important roles. The part required someone believable but not
necessarily a professional actor. I felt I could do it myself.
How do you expect the film to be received differently in Turkey compared to international audiences?
Emin
Alper: Turkish audiences will understand certain references immediately, for example, issues related to Kurdish politics or specific social
dynamics. International viewers might not recognize those details.
Sufism, for instance, is more familiar in Turkey. I think Turkish
audiences may react more emotionally, while nationalist or Islamist
groups might simply ignore the film.

