19/08/2024 - The Turkish director discusses the creative evolution of his new movie, addressing the shift from documentary to fiction and the interplay of esoteric influences

(© Locarno Film Festival/M Martegani/Ti-Press)

Turkish director Gürcan Keltek has revealed his latest feature, New Dawn Fades [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Gürcan Keltek
film profile], in the main competition of the Locarno Film Festival. Cineuropa sat down with the director to discuss the creative evolution of his new film, exploring the challenges of transitioning from documentary to fiction, the unexpected synergies between esoteric influences, and the intricate psychogeography that shapes both the film's narrative and its haunting portrayal of Istanbul.

Cineuropa: New Dawn Fades marks your transition from documentary to fiction. What challenges and opportunities did you encounter in this shift?
Gürcan Keltek: The idea I initially developed was more in a documentary vein; I was literally hanging out with the real character, recording a lot of sounds and images. But over time, it turned into a fiction. This decision stems from the fact that reality bores me. I wanted to explore the subject more deeply by making things up along the way. We set out to make a fiction film that takes its narrative from documentary but is more stylised and based on a mise-en-scène. In New Dawn Fades, the passage of time needed to be different. We shot these very long improvisations with the actors, sometimes lasting over 30 minutes. We plunged into real locations, like you do when making a documentary. In Istanbul, I wanted to see people’s faces, expressions and spontaneous reactions. There was always this thought of chasing an “accident” – wondering if there would be an accident, whether this would be a magical accident, or if something else would happen. Now, when I look at the film, I realise that my favourite parts are the moments when there were those real accidents, the stuff we never planned to shoot.

New Dawn Fades originates from your encounter with Akın Altın and your research into an occult and spiritualist movement in Turkey. Can you elaborate on how these two distinct sources converged into a single film?
These two stories were constantly clashing with each other while I was developing the film. I was researching Christian cults during the Byzantine period very early on, then I decided to create an imaginary one based on Mithraism, pagans who believe that all winged creatures are gods. In the early days of the secular Turkish Republic, philosopher and clairvoyant Bedri Ruhselman's influence on modern spiritualism was huge: his book The Divine Order and the Universe is the holy grail of the occult movement. Even though he came from a positivist, Western-educated background, he embraced his faith very early on, in order to keep his sanity. My main character is also trying to take refuge in God in an attempt to stay sane, but he fails. I felt there was an esoteric connection with these different sources. There’s a tragic side to it.

Akın's character undergoes profound psychological experiences throughout the film. How did you approach developing his character?
I created this timeline with recordings of sounds and images I made with the real character. This is what happens to him over a couple of days. I also believe monuments and old buildings have memories. I wanted him to hear those memories, and somehow, these divine structures speak to him.

Your use of long takes, sometimes of up to 30 minutes, is a significant stylistic choice. What motivated this decision?
I wanted to capture everything without interfering with the actors. So, there are a lot of “cringe” moments in the film that I cherished. There is a cringe side to being insane, and there is shameful aspect to it. So, it was important to do long takes.

Working with Peter Zeitlinger, Werner Herzog’s cinematographer, must have been crucial. How did his visual sensibilities influence the film's aesthetic and your storytelling approach?
Peter is a genius. When you have a cinematographer like him, you don’t need to talk too much. I have watched his documentaries with Herzog and Ulrich Seidl, and there is a compassion towards the people he shoots. He understood what I was trying to do with this protagonist, and things went really smoothly after that.

Istanbul's geography plays a crucial role in reflecting Akın's emotional state. How did you choose your specific locations?
I spent a lot of time in graveyards when my mother passed away, around the time I made Meteors [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Gürcan Keltek
film profile]. In the film, I wanted him to hear from these wise people who were buried centuries ago. They speak to him. The monuments and divine structures go way back historically because Istanbul was home to all kinds of religions for thousands of years. The film ends in this archaeological site which has just been discovered – it’s a pagan settlement. There is an element of psychogeography in all of my films. I wanted to explore more of that in this movie.

Are you going to continue with fiction filmmaking?
I’ve been working on a script called Destroyer, which will be my next fiction film. It’s a proper film noir, and the story takes place in contemporary Turkey. I’ve almost finished editing my next movie, Horde, which I shot during lockdown; it ended up being something in between fiction and documentary.