Moksha World

Last month, Mhz premiered the Turkish crime series, Alef. I’ve watched a few Turkish series before, but never a police drama, so the announcement immediately piqued my interest.

The series follows two detectives in Istanbul, each with complicated backstories. The lead detective frequently finds himself in his boss’s office, while his new partner has recently returned to Istanbul after living in London for many years. Over the course of the series, we gradually learn about both detectives’ professional and personal histories, creating an intriguing subplot.

The crimes are intense, but the clearly CGI effects keep the violence from feeling too graphic. Each crime is tied to a specific symbol, which the team researches, uncertain which meaning will provide a good lead. One detective chooses to follow the lead referring to Ottoman religious history, while the senior detective remains skeptical, preferring modern investigative methods.

The symbol left at each crime scene is Alef (Aleph), the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet, symbolizing the number one and the oneness of God. In Sufism, its Arabic equivalent, Alif (أ), represents the intersection of the divine and the earthly.

One detective visits a local university professor who specializes in Sufi history. Many of the groups were considered heretical by the Ottoman Empire, and it appears unlikely to be an influence on a modern-day serial killer. The professor mentions several groups, including the Qalandari and Mevlevi groups, neither of which I’d heard of before, though it seemed like a long shot for finding the killer.

Another intriguing concept was “Where the sky meets the earth”, representing the mystical union of the divine and the human. Conceptually, the sky symbolizes the spiritual and infinite, while the earth symbolizes the material world and the ego. Their meeting signifies that divine unity is manifested within the earthly realm, creating a sacred space for spiritual realization. Some of the philosophy went over my head, but it sparked my curiosity enough to send me down a Wikipedia rabbit hole. 

While the story shares structural similarities with other police dramas, the show’s Turkish music adds a mystical aura, enhancing the atmosphere. The series is mostly shot at night or on cloudy days, which complements the moody, suspenseful tone.

The pacing is slow at first, leaving me to believe that the murders would never be solved. However, the final episode accelerates dramatically, featuring a race against time, shifting suspects, and a climactic boat sequence on the Bosphorus. I changed my suspicions more than once during the final episode. The culprit in the end was a surprise to me and to all the characters in the series.

I felt relieved when the case was solved — not just for the crimes, but also for the personal journey of each detective. Though I’ve never been a homicide detective, I got a taste of the process, piecing together clues from the initial stage of confusion to the resolution.

What I found unique about Alef is its combination of police procedural and mystical themes. The exploration of historical Sufi groups, religious symbolism, and the careful crafting of atmosphere creates a unique style. I also appreciated how the show encouraged me to think about history and spirituality in ways I never encountered in school. This is an important factor for international formats, keeping the dramatic structure but finding ways to make the series fit into cultural and stylistic preferences in its home market.

IMDB.com lists a second season that has already aired in Turkey, and I’m looking forward to watching it. Alef blends the familiar structure of a crime drama with mystical and cultural layers, leaving a lasting impression. If you’re looking for a moody crime drama off the beaten path, this will click all your boxes!