Writer-director Levan Akin’s third feature is a delicate, sensitive piece of queer cinema. Here’s our review of Crossing.
Levan Akin’s second feature film, And Then We Danced, was a luminous, mesmerising tale centred on two Georgian dancers finding love in a homophobic society. The film’s release sparked riots in Georgia, but Akin, a Swedish-Georgian director, once again pushes against the current with his new film Crossing.
It begins with an acknowledgement that both Georgian and Turkish languages are gender-neutral. From this opening statement, it’s clear Akin will fearlessly tackle trans rights, and while Crossing is political, the film is more interested in observing the lives of three people with kindness and genuine affection.
Crossing follows Lia, who is joined by the young and brash Achi on a journey to find Lia’s transgender niece Tekla in Istanbul. It’s easier said than done as the pair quickly realise. Another story strand finds a transgender lawyer Evram also navigating the city. The trio’s paths cross as they all search for something else besides Tekla.
Crossing is a gentle film. There’s nothing hurried about its narrative; it prefers to focus on the details of its characters and setting than major plot developments. For some, Crossing will come across as mundane, but Akin slowly but surely builds to an emotionally complex climax.
While the slow pace is by design, it means Crossing inevitably lacks the same urgency that drove And Then We Danced. The threat of violence was a constant presence in Akin’s breakout film, but in Crossing, it’s a suggestion rather than something that is bound to happen. Akin isn’t interested in showing us images of beatings or constant violence against trans people. We’ve seen enough of that in the news. Instead, we’re treated to a whole new side of Istanbul we never knew existed.
There’s a strong sense of community in Crossing. As Lia and Achi roam around the streets in search of Tekla, they’re always met with hospitality and a genuine desire to help. Despite a language barrier – Achi speaks a little English and a little Turkish – they’re always offered tea and directions to someone who might know where Tekla is.
Over the course of the story, characters don’t change so much as soften around the edges. Achi, who comes across as arrogant, later morphs into a caring young man who uses that arrogance as a shield. Lia, who rarely lets her emotions show on the outside, is revealed to be quite a dancer as she finally lets her hair down.
Evrim is perhaps the character that we gain the least amount of insight into. Played with delicacy by Deniz Dumanli, Evrim is a tender woman. She’s in the process of getting her new ID recognising her gender, and we observe as she goes to a hospital appointment. While filling out the paperwork, a stray cat approaches her, prompting her to put the paperwork aside and pick up the cat instead for a cuddle. Aside from her decency and desire to help others, we learn very little about Evrim, which is a shame.
Crossing is a lovely film all around. The narrative lacks a driving force and often strays from its path, which can feel tiresome. It’s a beautiful, soulful effort from Akin, though, even if it’s not his best work.
Crossing is now in cinemas.
