CROSSING (2024)
A retired teacher promises to find her long-lost niece, with her search taking her to Istanbul, where she meets a lawyer fighting for trans rights.
A retired teacher promises to find her long-lost niece, with her search taking her to Istanbul, where she meets a lawyer fighting for trans rights.
For as excellent as slow-burn, realistic dramas are, it’s incredibly difficult to acutely capture the unique rhythms of everyday life. It’s a simple form of poetry that nevertheless requires excellent filmmaking, an eye for detail, and a profound sense of empathy. Crossing possesses all of these qualities in spades. Levan Akin’s latest film, which has been gradually picking up steam with critics since its premiere earlier this year, is a quietly powerful ode to the struggles of getting by in life. It also showcases the joy and strengthening of one’s identity that can be found in transgressing some of society’s norms and boundaries.
It’s not an easy film to place at first, beginning with an older woman, Lia (Mzia Arabuli), walking along a beach, before quickly cutting to a strained domestic scene in Achi’s (Lucas Kankava) life, with the young man living under the thumb of his domineering half-brother. The picture figuratively gains focus once these two lives intersect, with Lia visiting Achi’s family to inquire about the whereabouts of her transgender niece Tekla. Achi, claiming to know where she is living in Istanbul, offers to accompany her there in her search.
This isn’t the only time that characters get introduced out of the blue in Crossing, leaving audiences to try to piece together the relationships between them all as their lives unfold over the film’s runtime. While Akin is clever enough to know what potential points of connection will spark burning questions in viewers’ minds, the film is such a joy to watch that it’s not weighed down by constantly pondering on what its outcomes might be. Achi and Lia’s search for Tekla never loses focus as the film’s main dramatic pull, but Crossing is just as concerned with this journey as it is with its destination.
Lia and Achi are hilarious as an odd couple that constantly bicker and disagree with one another, yet seem as if they’ve known each other their whole lives. Both are screw-ups in one way or another, but the film always treats these characters with grace instead of cynically depicting their faults. The pair have been pushed to the fringes of a closed-off society, with Lia looking to make amends with her niece for the way that she treated her for being transgender, while Achi longs to be free of his boorish half-brother, viewing a bustling city like Istanbul as his escape.
Just as Achi wants to burrow into this city and forge a new path for himself, Tekla has seemingly used this (relatively) safe space for transgender people to escape her conservative family and hide in the vastness of this space. As Achi and Lia argue their way through their quest, the film always knows when to look for sparks of humour and fun amidst the solemnity held in the possibility that Tekla will not be found, a dark thought that looms over Lia. Crossing takes moments that would be too mundane to work in almost any other film and offers us a piece of the human condition that feels urgent in the film’s uniquely delicate style, slowly teasing out these characters’ lives through their everyday actions.
More characters are gradually dropped into this narrative, like the transgender lawyer Evrim (Deniz Dumanli), as well as Izzet (Bünyamin Değer) and Gülpembe (Sema Sultan Elekci), two children left to fend for themselves on the streets of Istanbul. What’s shocking is that these new additions never feel like they have an abrupt entrance, even when their inclusion isn’t smoothly segued by showing them interacting with the film’s two main characters. Lia and Achi often wind up near the others, but these early moments where they cross paths aren’t that consequential.
Somehow, Evrim, Izzet, and Gülpembe never feel as if they’re distracting from the ‘real story’: their role in this narrative is a heartfelt look at citizens of Istanbul who live on the margins of society and work hard to carve out a home for themselves within it. Whether it’s these characters’ intersecting lives, the very tangible journey that Achi and Lia embark on, or conservative social norms being broken, Crossing is a more than apt title for this experience.
But what’s most striking about the film isn’t found in daring escapades or thrilling adventures, although this movie is highly entertaining in its depiction of life’s joys and sorrows. What stands out here is how sensitively and earnestly Crossing depicts its characters struggling to provide for themselves and others. The two youngsters are forced to come up with creative ways to ensure they have enough food to eat, while Evrim’s carefree revelry in Istanbul’s nightlife is punctuated by her desire and willingness to help others, probably from a place of empathy in knowing what it means to live on the fringes of society. Achi is a bit of an oaf, where he can most often be seen stuffing his face with food and acting immature, but on a fundamental level, he’s a good person trying to make the best out of less-than-fortunate circumstances.
Lia’s quest is sad in a grander sense, where it is not enough for her to enjoy the present moment or her material conditions, since an important part of her can only be redeemed through reuniting with Tekla and saying all the things she should have told her niece long ago. This task is made all the more burdensome by the fact that she feels compelled to carry it out after the death of her sister, Tekla’s mother. Lia is now shouldering the weight of two women’s regrets, one of whom can never voice them, while she is reckoning with her mortality more each day.
So much of Lia’s performance rests on the power of Arabuli’s facial expressions, who communicates so much in silence. Her deadpan expression and wit contrast brilliantly with Achi’s juvenile behaviour and gumption. The chemistry between the pair makes much of this experience feel like an unlikely addition to the litany of road movies, with this odd couple being forced to co-exist alongside one another for long stretches. The naturalistic acting from the entire cast is excellent, including the two child actors, whose performances are very believable.
Even though there are many joyous moments in Crossing, these characters’ lives could easily be described as tragic, where they all have to face bleak circumstances at times. But the self-determination and dignity with which they navigate these difficulties isn’t just hopeful or inspiring, it is life-affirming.
The only thing that holds the film back from being truly excellent is that it’s not an experience that bears much reflection. But again, this is far more about the journey than the destination, and the high points in Akin’s film make sinking into this world and the lives of those within it easy and rewarding.
SWEDEN • DENMARK • FRANCE • TURKEY • GEORGIA | 2024 | 106 MINUTES | COLOUR | GEORGIAN • TURKISH • ENGLISH
writer & director: Levan Akin.
starring: Mzia Arabuli, Lucas Kankava & Deniz Dumanli.