Salvation | 2026 Berlin Intl. Film Festival Review

Hysterical Intervention: Alper Gets Overwrought Exploring Tribalism

The land dispute at the center of Emin Alper’s latest film Salvation has all the trademarks of a Shakespearean tragedy, so it’s unfortunate his approach often feels labored, and at times, over the top. Historically, Alper has tended to prize provocative, often intense explorations of brooding animosity leading to explosive conflicts, such as earlier title Frenzy (2015) or the Cannes debut Burning Days (2022), featuring a sinister criminal investigation at the center of a town’s local politics, which includes queer elements. Alper’s painstaking screenplay takes its time laying the groundwork for the complex social and political relationships defining a remote Turkish village constantly on the precipice of conflict with their nearest neighbors. However, its depictions of religious primed paranoia bloat to hysterical proportions, stalling the pace and warping otherwise intriguing characterizations.

At the center of the narrative is the incredibly striking Caner Cindoruk as Mesut, who has a somewhat troubled relationship to the community he’s defined by. Slowly, as his mental health erodes due to a chronic lack of sleep, we learn he was bypassed by his grandfather in favor of his brother Ferit (Feyyaz Duman), who now leads the community of Upper Pingan as their Sheikh. As the Hazerans, they hold a tenuous peace with the Bezaris, the residents of Lower Pingan, and this balance is about to be eroded with the Bezaris returning from the nearby city to reclaim their fields (as it appears the Hazerans were able to utilize the space in a sharecropper capacity). Meanwhile, both clans systematically are called away to hunt down a separate terrorist faction also plaguing the region, while both must obey the local genderarmie stationed nearby.

Mesut begins receiving religious visions from his dead grandfather through the conduit of a local somnambulistic child (who is forced to constantly wear a tin can around his ankle), and the growing unrest among the Hazerans leads to a coup as they usurp Ferit. Another victim of circumstance is Mesut’s wife Gülsüm (Özlem Taş), previously a servant of Hilmar, the leader of the Bezeris, a marriage which cost Mesut the position of Sheikh. Gülsüm is pregnant with twins, and Mesut suspiciously believes twins are the work of Satan himself.

The whole affair, of course, is hurtling towards a planned genocide, based on actual events that took place in the Kurdish region of Turkey in 2009. While Alper does a fine job of working up a Crucible-like fervor dictating how various elements contribute to mob mentality, Mesut’s ignorant pondering is often too painfully on-the-nose, and worse, a repetitive structure overwhelming the second act of the narrative almost exclusively. More effective is the poisonous Fatma (Naz Göktan), feeding the impressionable Mesut titillating tales about his wife’s interactions with her previous employer, like a demonic Scheherazade. The film’s final moments are indeed effectively shocking, but Salvation isn’t nearly as upsetting or propulsive as it could be.

Reviewed on February 15th at the 2026 Berlin International Film Festival (76th edition) – Main Competition. 120 mins.

★★/☆☆☆☆☆