How does one justify that what they possess is rightfully theirs? When there are no papers, laws or institutions to arbitrate, other ways must be found to legitimise ownership. One such method, poised between righteousness and madness, is explored in Emin Alper’s recent film Salvation, screened in competition at the 76th Berlinale. It is the Turkish director’s second feature vying for the festival’s top prize after A Tale of Three Sisters [+lee también:
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entrevista: Emin Alper
entrevista: Emin Alper
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What lies at the heart of the dispute? A fertile, nourishing piece of land once owned by the Bezari clan, who were displaced. It is now cultivated by the Hazerans, who remained and guarded the territory - at least according to hearsay. After the first tribe returns home once the local armed conflict subsides, they demand their fields back. The Hazerans’ leader, Sheikh Ferit, voices support for collaboration and coexistence, while his brother Mesut (Caner Cindoruk) strongly opposes the idea. He refuses to move an inch and would not give even a barren rock to the opposing tribe. The story centres on Mesut and his growing obsession with defending and keeping the land at all costs. He experiences nightmares - of an invisible man, or a monster seducing his pregnant wife, Gülsüm (Özlem Taş), who once worked as a servant for the rival clan and was harassed because of it. At times, Mesut confuses dreams with reality - for example, when he mistakes the Bezari clan’s twin daughters for malevolent creatures (in some cultures, twins are associated with the devil’s work). Incidentally, Gülsüm is also carrying twins… Gradually, Mesut comes to believe that these visions are divine messages rather than the product of paranoia.

Although the director clearly distinguishes dream sequences from reality, and the film is in principle a realistic drama, the mood of Salvation feels slightly detached from reality. Like a perception of a person who constantly lacks sleep. As Mesut slides into a kind of xenophobic madness and seeks to confront the other tribe with force, the atmosphere thickens with unease. The psychological tension works particularly well when paired with a precise breakdown of how figures like Mesut - dictators and nationalist leaders of all times and origins - think and consolidate power within their groups. The ingredient list is short but lethally effective: a sense of threat, emotional manipulation, the use of carefully chosen language, the impression of receiving messages from God, and the oppression of weaker groups (in Salvation it’s also women). The plot aligns closely with the film’s aesthetic approach. Creative sound design and carefully controlled lighting reinforce the oppressive mood and help explain why people who feel threatened and isolated can be seduced by such political figures. The cinematographers - Ahmet Sesigürgil and Barış Aygen - contribute through their lensing, carefully framing and enhancing the beauty of the landscapes and villages belonging to the two tribes. It becomes clear why the stakes in this conflict are so high.

If there is anything problematic about the film, it is that, however coherent and logical the narrative may be, it is not particularly economical. Some scenes feel overly extended or redundant, reiterating information that has already been conveyed earlier. An audience who prefers films that engage without the burden of unease may feel their appetites are not entirely satisfied. Moreover, what the director unveils is not wholly new or original. Yet, in a world torn by conflict - and at a time when doubts are raised about whether art should be political - films like Salvation are still necessary.

Salvation is a Liman Film (Turkey) production, in co-production with Bir Film (Turkey), Meltem Films (France), TS Productions (France), Circe Films (Netherlands), Horsefly Productions (Greece), Second Land (Sweden) and Saudi Arabia. International sales are handled by Lucky Number.