Crossing never seeks to offer us simple answers, which is its strength, but at its heart, it carries one overriding message that should ripple through our increasingly divided world: it is easier to live a life of love, acceptance and togetherness than to live with the regret, anger and guilt born from division and fear. Levan Akin’s Crossing arrives in cinemas nationwide on July 19.
Inspired by a real-life story, Levan Akin heard about a Georgian man whose transgender granddaughter had been ostracised by the family. Crossing is a story of loss, found family and the bustle, mystery and electricity of a city that never sleeps. In this exquisitely crafted journey of loss, discovery, courage, and escape, Akin once again proves himself to be one of the most exciting and dynamic directors of his generation as his characters weave their way through the colour and darkness of Istanbul’s vibrant streets in a neorealist road trip movie that despite its warmth never seeks to offer simple answers to the journey at hand or gloss over the discrimination, oppression and danger faced by trans people living and working in Turkey.
Our story begins in Batumi, Georgia, where a retired teacher, Lia (Mzia Arabuli), walks up to a house on the beach, hoping to find answers that may help her locate her long-lost niece, Tekla. Lia’s sister and the family ostracised Tekla due to their trans identity, and they haven’t been seen since that fateful day when they were told to leave the family home. But now, following the death of her sister, Lia needs to heal the pain that engulfed her household years before by finding Tekla and bringing them home where they always belonged.
Inside the small ramshackle house, Achi (Lucas Kankava) lives with his domineering older brother, who was once a student of Lia. But as Lia asks Achi’s brother whether he knows where Tekla went, she is met by a wall of silence from all but young Achi, who suggests Tekla may have gone to Istanbul in the hope of travelling alongside Lia to escape his home life. Reluctantly, the terse Lia accepts his offer of support, and an unlikely travelling pair is born as they head for the border and on to Istanbul. However, as they arrive in bustling Istanbul, the phrase “finding a needle in a haystack” becomes all too real, as does the fact that Achi may have exaggerated his knowledge to earn his passage of escape.
Thankfully, the pair soon meet Evrim (Deniz Dumanli), a former trans sex worker turned legal volunteer who specialises in finding those lost in the dense streets of Istanbul while supporting those who sit on the periphery of the city, from street kids to trans sex workers and ostracised queer people. But in a city of extremes, where people suddenly arrive only to disappear, the search for Tekla will be challenging and fraught with endless dead ends.
Following the critical success of And Then We Danced in 2020, Levan Akin deftly shifts his lens from the gay male experience in Georgia to the trans experience in Istanbul, a city that has long been an escape route for Georgian people despite Turkey’s poor track record of LGBTQ+ oppression. Here, Akin beautifully explores the melting pot of Istanbul, from its winding streets to its vibrant cultural heritage and colourful characters. There are moments of beauty as the spikey Lia and wide-eyed Achi search the city, from a random meeting with a businessman who unlocks Lia’s steely resolve and makes her feel young again to Achi’s discovery of the alternative nightlife and cultures that make the city tick.
However, Akin also explores the darker underbelly of the intoxicating metropolis that was once the capital of the Byzantine Empire and the Ottoman Empire. From hidden communities of sex workers who must band together to create safe spaces to homeless kids who are constantly at risk of harm, with their only safety net being the trans and queer communities that offer sanctuary.
Levan Akin’s characters are complex, richly drawn, and fascinating in their representation of generational shifts and divides. For Achi, a straight young man searching for his own found family, trans and queer acceptance and identity isn’t a discussion; it’s the norm, while for Lia, time ticks away in resolving past hurts as she attempts to heal the guilt that haunts her for pushing Tekla away. The performance of Mzia Arabuli is nothing short of mesmerising, as the stone facade that Lia has built over many years slowly crumbles on the streets of Istanbul, and her relationship with Achi becomes that of a surrogate grandmother.
At the same time, Lucas Kankava’s performance is rooted in young Achi’s coming-of-age journey as his eyes are opened to the possibilities Istanbul offers and his growing sense of commitment and love for Lia’s unwavering need to heal old wounds. Add to the mix Deniz Dumanli’s caring, strong, and resilient Evrim, alongside a parade of beautifully performed characters who appear and disappear much like those who seek a new life in Istanbul’s winding streets, and Akin’s Crossing becomes a beautiful, poignant exploration of found family, heartbreaking loss, and internal discovery.
There are moments when Levan Akin’s drama falters, especially toward the end, when Crossing occasionally feels overwritten. However, that minor weakness does not distract from Akin’s masterful screenplay, stunning direction, or the nuanced and beautiful portraits of intergenerational change, personal bravery, and transformation that his outstanding cast offers.
Crossing never seeks to offer us simple answers, which is its strength, but at its heart, it carries one overriding message that should ripple through our increasingly divided world: it is easier to live a life of love, acceptance and togetherness than to live with the regret, anger and guilt born from division and fear.
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