In this review, Mick Jordan faces Crossing.
“You may never get a second chance to do right by your queer child,” comments one audience member at the Q&A after the preview of Crossing. Screening in conjunction with Gaze Film Festival and Dublin PRIDE, this latest offering from Swedish/Georgian director Levan Akin echoes this precise sentiment.
Retired teacher Lia (Mzia Arabuli) arrives at a Georgian village in search of her niece Tekla. As a trans woman, Tekla was disowned by her family; now her aunt Lia hopes to ask for her forgiveness. Desperate to escape the confines of the village, local teenager Achi, (Lucas Kankava) tells Lia that Tekla has gone to Istanbul and gives her an address. He insists he can help and so Lia agrees to bring him. Meanwhile, sharing the same boat, Evrim, a lawyer fighting for trans rights, makes her way to Istanbul. Evrim is trans herself and plans to have her gender legally recognised.
These storylines are interwoven with another involving two young street kids, Izzet (Bünyamin Değer) and Gulpembe (Sema Sultan Elekci). Serving as guides, they bring Lia and Achi to the trans region of Istanbul — for a fee. Izzet and Gulpembe, who have experienced Evrim’s kind heart and legal prowess many times before as she helped them out of prison, introduce Lia to Evrim. Naturally distrustful of outsiders, Evrim argues that it is likely Tekla does not want to be found. However, she agrees to help them anyway. This is a recurring theme in the film – people helping people. In the district, Lia and Achi discover that Tekla traveled through at one point, and now they are lost, searching for her among a population of 15 million.
As Evrim continues on her own quest, she struggles to get help from officials as she attempts to confirm her transition. Civil servants are curt to the point of rudeness, while police are downright hostile. Evrim rises above it, however, just delighted to finally be becoming herself. Her community celebrates this small victory, her true family. As Lia bears witness to this, it adds to her desperate need to find Tekla and make amends.
This is a story told with real affection for its characters and with an undercurrent of anger on their behalf. When Lia and Achi venture into this subculture of the backstreets, they see it as disturbing and sordid, the buildings as rundown and overcrowded. Lia is initially upset that this was where her niece felt she belonged. But this perception is soon challenged, revealing a safe haven filled with those who care for and look out for each other.
While the film moves at a leisurely pace, it is still compelling. The characters are on a journey, and we are taken along with them. With the focus so closely placed on events, the city backdrop often becomes invisible. Medium shots or close-up shots focus on emotion, so it’s easy to forget this is a vast international city. That is until one crucial scene near the end. Lia talks to a woman in the street, then midway through their conversation, the vast ancient city of Istanbul is revealed in the frame behind them. It is a stunning landscape presented on screen properly for the first time.
The conclusion of the film was a major point of discussion for the panel at the preview. For many, it was disappointing and then elevating. There are effectively two endings, one overriding the other and revealing an incredibly powerful moment that feels like a queer shout of rage. It’s a shout that needs to be heard, from a film that needs to be seen.
In cinemas from 19th July 2024.
