With his latest film “Crossing,” Swedish-Georgian director Levan Akin once again brings his compassionate lens to stories of identity and belonging. Known for the critically acclaimed “And Then We Danced,” about a young gay dancer, Akin shifts his focus to the journey of a retired teacher searching for her estranged trans niece. Though the plot may sound familiar on paper, Akin infuses the story with rich character development and an eye for emotional nuance.
We meet Lia, a proud yet brittle 70-something woman living in the Georgian coastal town of Batumi. When she learns her transgender niece Tekla has fled to Istanbul, likely to escape mistreatment, Lia’s sister pleads with her to search for Tekla before passing away. Never one to shirk from duty, Lia reluctantly agrees, teaming up with a scrappy neighbor named Achi mostly so he’ll stop pestering her. The odd couple bumble their way through the chaotic streets of Istanbul, aided by a cast of colorful locals and stray cats.
While the central mystery pulls us along, the film’s heart lies in Lia’s inner transformation. Arabuli’s flinty performance hides deep wells of shame and regret. Each kindness shown or cruelty endured gradually thaws Lia’s frosty exterior, helping her understand the mistakes of the past. By interweaving this personal saga with the vibrant lives of Istanbul’s marginalized, Akin illustrates how bridges of empathy can lead to understanding across even the widest divides.
A Tale of Two Cities: Identity and Belonging
At its core, “Crossing” explores the universal human needs for identity and belonging through the lens of two very different cities. We first meet Lia in the quiet Georgian port town of Batumi, where traditional values and close-knit community come with a conformity that alienates those seen as outsiders. This suffocating atmosphere likely drove the young Tekla to flee to Istanbul, seeking the freedom to embrace her transgender identity.
The sprawling metropolis of Istanbul thus becomes almost a character itself in Akin’s story. Early on, a stunning unbroken tracking shot on a ferry boat glides between people from all walks of life, united only by the common journey. The city’s winding alleys and crowded apartments harbor a vibrant patchwork of ethnicities, beliefs, and gender identities. Yet for immigrants and minorities, disappearing into the fabric of Istanbul also brings precarity and hostility from the authorities.
Through vignettes of activists, sex workers, street kids, and everyday folks, Akin celebrates the resourcefulness of makeshift communities as they fight discrimination. Meanwhile, we witness Lia’s assumptions challenged at each turn. A hidebound product of the old Georgia, her softer edges gradually emerge through small acts of kindness and understanding, culminating in a cathartic admission of past failings.
Thus “Crossing” finds hope in the connective tissue between people and places. Though Batumi and Istanbul seem worlds apart, the quest for self-knowledge links Lia to Tekla across the divide. By forging human connection, we can bridge the most fundamental gaps.
Complex Characters on a Journey of Self-Discovery
The success of any road trip movie relies heavily on the watchability of its central odd couple. Thankfully, Arabuli and Kankava have a prickly chemistry that jumps off the screen as Lia and Achi. We first meet fastidious Lia, whose staid life reflects years of putting duty before self. Arabuli conveys boundless subtleties through the tiniest facial expressions. Her pursed lips and flinty stare reveal a fortress of Georgia-born propriety, while moments of vulnerability poke through the cracks. This finely calibrated performance lays the groundwork for Lia’s gradual thaw.
Meanwhile, Kankava endows Achi with a loose-limbed restlessness, balanced by the underlying sweetness of youth. Akin admits Achi represents the next generation of Georgian men, hungry for opportunity yet hampered by economics and expectation. Alternately exasperating and endearing, he chips away at Lia’s patience, often with hilarious results. Yet when Achi exposes his own shame at abandoning a pregnant girlfriend, we recognize the deep insecurity below the bravado.
Rounding out the trio is Deniz Dumanli, a transgender actress bringing warmth and confidence to trailblazer Evrim. By turns flirtatious and resolute, Evrim models self-acceptance, illuminating a path towards progress. Yet she too has moments of doubt, confronting daily indignations and a human need for reciprocated love.
Thus “Crossing” is perhaps most compelling as a story of people shedding internal constraints. Through compassion and courage, identities expand beyond past divisions. For guarded Lia most of all, the journey catalyzes a transformation where she sees herself and her niece clearly for the first time.
Capturing Authentic Texture
Beyond the strength of the story, much credit is due to Levan Akin’s production team for crafting such textured realism. Cinematographer Lisabi Fridell returns from “And Then We Danced,” using a versatile handheld approach to embed us at street level. The frame brims with telling details about the characters’ surroundings, from stray cats padding by to laundry flapping overhead. Natural lighting prevails, complemented by vivid colors that pop without overstylizing.
Fridell’s most memorable choice is a stunning five-minute long take aboard the ferry, fluidly connecting our key characters in space and metaphor. This shot achieves the remarkable dual effect of feeling both completely impromptu yet technically masterful. Indeed, the very looseness of composition belies the choreographic complexity underneath.
The docudrama texture also stems from Akin’s combination of seasoned pros like Arabuli with non-actor discoveries like Kankava and Dumanli. Strikingly, Arabuli had never before met a transgender person, imbuing her role with a true evolving perspective. Dumanli herself leads an Istanbul trans rights organization, spearheading charitable work when not acting. This harmonious blend of experience and authenticity enhances the naturalistic interplay between all involved.
By tapping into the human qualities of his performers against the living backdrop of Istanbul, Akin blurs the line between fiction and non-fiction. Every frame feels captured rather than staged, befitting a story about human transformation vs. performance. In the process, he confirms his talent for mining universal resonance from highly specific soil.
A Shape-Shifting Story Structure
Rather than follow a familiar three-act blueprint, Akin opts for a more diffuse structure interweaving various storylines over an unhurried runtime. We spend significant time immersed in self-contained chapters following Lia and Achi, Evrim, Izzet and Gulpembe before their disparate worlds eventually overlap. This decentralized approach mirrors the sprawling diversity of Istanbul itself.
Some viewers may grow impatient waiting for these narrative threads to braid together. Yet the satisfaction stems from the emotional investment built upfront through these in-depth character studies. When jaded Lia and radiant Evrim finally cross paths, the dramatic stakes resonate that much more deeply.
Akin also deliberately feints towards certain plot payoffs, then subverts expectations. The prominent searches for both Tekla and Evrim’s missing legal papers temporarily leave us aligning the two women in our minds. When the truth becomes clear, it’s a clever meta commentary on our ingrained cinematic instincts. Yet the fake-out lands with an even bigger emotional wallop when Lia admits her deepest shames.
Indeed, the most indelible moments emerge through powerful scenes of interpersonal reckoning. An early tragedy foreshadows the hurt that dishes out judgment instead of seeking understanding. Thus Lia’s climactic expressions of accountability, forgiveness and primal love left this viewer wiping away tears.
By the poetic final shot, the diverse souls depicted are no longer crossing paths but merging into one stream. Each story bore unique sorrows, yet flows into the same sea of luminous compassion. Inviting comparison to 2019’s wanderlust gem Nomadland, Akin’s humanistic fable may meander, but finds its way to profoundly moving catharsis.
A Humanistic Triumph
In an era filled with CGI spectaculars, “Crossing” offers respite through intimate human storytelling. Some may yearn for a more straightforward plot or tidier resolutions to the central mystery. Yet Levan Akin shows wisdom in refusing easy answers about the most profound questions of identity, community and reconciliation.
The foremost strength lies in creating such richly complex characters out of so few brushstrokes thanks to the outstanding cast. Stripped of sentimentality, the film earns its emotional crescendos through the virtue of deep empathy. Meanwhile, Akin’s roving camera uncovers resilience and moral grace lurking in overlooked corners.
While more compact than sprawling social portraits like Short Term 12 or Nomadland, “Crossing” finds common ground in its humane gaze. By the tender closing moments, where connections defy all divides, past and present fold into one.
Both ambitious and modest, sweeping and intimate at once, this compassionate jewel builds on the promise of Akin’s previous triumph “And Then We Danced.” Indeed, these two stories serve as kindred crossings—of borders, generations, and above all, the pernicious gateways in the heart. Where his next cinematic bridge takes us, count these eyes firmly fixed on the emerging career of a consummate humanist director.
The Review
Crossing
Poignant and profound, "Crossing" heralds the arrival of Levan Akin as a singular new voice of emotionally resonant cinema. Through flawed yet sympathetic characters and patient storytelling that earns its payoffs, this life-affirming fable casts light into the shadowy corners of uncertainty and belonging. A beacon of hope for the outcasts and overlooked, it makes us all feel a little less alone.
PROS
- Powerful lead performance by Mzia Arabuli
- Sensitive portrayal of trans characters
- Immersive sense of place capturing Istanbul
- Thematic depth exploring identity and belonging
- Emotionally resonant storytelling
- Strong direction and cinematography
CONS
- Uneven pacing at times
- Ambiguous ending may frustrate some
- Underdeveloped secondary characters
- Plot can meander between storylines
