Winner of the Golden Bear, Ilker Çatak’s Yellow Letters (Gelbe Briefe) confirms the filmmaker’s place among the most compelling voices in contemporary European cinema, a director unafraid to confront the fragile line between private life and political reality. Expanding on themes of moral pressure and institutional power that shaped his earlier work, Çatak crafts a tense, intimate portrait of a family suddenly pushed to the margins of society.
Set between Ankara and Istanbul, the film follows Derya and Aziz, a celebrated artist couple whose seemingly stable life collapses after a single incident at the premiere of their new play. Overnight, they lose their work, their home, and the sense of security that once defined them. As they attempt to rebuild their lives, economic pressure, political tension, and personal pride begin to fracture their relationship, forcing each member of the family to confront impossible choices between survival and principle.
What makes Yellow Letters striking, and ultimately deserving of the Berlinale’s highest honor, is its refusal to simplify. Rather than presenting clear heroes or villains, Çatak explores how power operates through pressure, silence, and the slow erosion of certainty. The film examines how individuals negotiate identity, responsibility, and loyalty when the structures around them begin to close in, turning everyday decisions into deeply political acts.
Ilker Çatak reflects on the role of cinema in turbulent times, the dangers of simplified discourse, and why he remains drawn to stories that reveal human nature under pressure, where the most revealing moments often emerge not in grand gestures, but in the quiet spaces between conviction and compromise.
Why did you decide to make the film in Turkish, and did that make the project harder to realize?
Ilker Çatak: I told my producer from the very beginning that I wanted to make this film entirely in Turkish, and he supported that vision. We knew it wouldn’t be a commercial decision, we even joked that we might have to exploit ourselves to make it happen, but we believed in the story.
Then came the success of The Teacher’s Lounge, the Oscar nomination, and suddenly everything changed. I realized that artists are a bit like stocks, once your value rises, people want to invest. Suddenly everyone was asking about my next project, and when we said it would be a Turkish-language film, people still wanted to be involved. That made the project possible.
Your previous film, The Teacher’s Lounge, also explored moral responsibility within institutional structures. How does Yellow Letters expand or transform your exploration of power?
Ilker Çatak: It’s maybe the bigger cousin of The Teacher’s Lounge. I’m always looking for stories where I can put my characters under pressure, because I believe the true nature of a person reveals itself in those moments. It’s easy to be kind when everything is going well, but once stress enters the picture, you see people differently.
Power is something that fascinates me. In this film, the main character is a loving father and husband, but as pressure builds, something darker emerges. That’s what interests me, how to bring characters to a point where their real faces appear.
It’s often difficult to define what makes a film political. Do you think films are inherently political?
Ilker Çatak: Art can be political, but it doesn’t have to be. Every artist has to decide for themselves whether they want to engage politically or not. At this stage in my life and career, I wanted to make a film like this. Maybe in ten or fifteen years I’ll want to make a comedy with no political angle at all. I can only speak for myself.
When writing the film, did you approach these themes with anger, understanding, or a combination of both?
Ilker Çatak: I wouldn’t say anger. Of course you react emotionally to what you see in the world, but when you sit down to write, you need a clear mind. I became interested in ideas like social death and civil death, situations where people are excluded from society without a fair resolution. What interested me was understanding the mechanics of authoritarian systems rather than simply reacting emotionally to them.
Why do you think art is perceived as such a threat to authoritarian structures?
Ilker Çatak: You would probably have to ask authoritarian structures that question. But I think it’s because art, like science, has the power to shape thought. It can influence how people see the world, and that makes it uncomfortable for systems that depend on control.
You’ve said you hope the film will be released in Turkey. How do you see the current political climate there in relation to artistic freedom?
Ilker Çatak: I try to stay positive. I don’t see a reason why the film shouldn’t be released. I don’t want to worry about problems before they actually exist. I prefer to focus on what can happen rather than what might go wrong.
Your film references the idea of “divide and conquer.” How do you think societies can break that cycle?
Ilker Çatak: It’s a strategy that goes back to antiquity. Leaders have always used it. The only way to resist it is to stick together, but that has never been harder than it is now. Social media makes division easier than ever. Even people close to each other can be pulled into spaces designed to separate us. For political leaders, it has never been easier to divide societies.
Your film also touches on social media. How do you see its positive and negative sides today?
Ilker Çatak: There was a time when I thought social media was a great tool for organizing people. But now I feel differently. These platforms are designed to keep us addicted, and in the age of AI I think they are damaging our attention and our ability to think deeply. It’s like smoking, you probably shouldn’t have started, and you can always quit.
Part of the film takes place in Ankara and part in Istanbul. Were you intentionally commenting on the different atmospheres of these cities for artists and intellectuals?
Ilker Çatak: Capitals are always places where political power sits, while Istanbul is more chaotic and expensive. I see parallels with German cities too, Hamburg reminds me of Istanbul with the sea and ferries, while Berlin feels closer to Ankara because of its political weight. They’re very different cities, but I enjoy observing those contrasts.
As an artist, how do you balance ideals with reality, especially between artistic integrity and market pressures?
Ilker Çatak: You always have ideals about the kind of artist you want to be, but there are also economic realities. You constantly try to find a balance. I live simply, so I have the freedom to refuse certain offers, but every artist has to find their own path. What I love about cinema is that you never fully know what film will emerge, I enjoy stepping into the unknown.