Tahar Rahim as an Armenian refugee in “The Cut.” Credit Gordon Muehle/Strand Releasing
Fatih Akin’s “The Cut” brings the monumental scale of an epic to the Armenian genocide of 1915 without toning down the murderous cruelty and upheaval of the events.
The film depicts the forced diaspora and mass suffering through the grueling search of a bereft, wandering father. Nazaret (Tahar Rahim) is a well-off craftsman in the Ottoman Empire when he is wrenched away from his family one night by Turkish soldiers during a mass roundup of Armenian men. He proceeds to survive forced labor and marches and an execution attempt that cuts his vocal cords. Reports that his twin daughters may be alive lead him to Aleppo and refuge in a soap factory; from there, he chases tips overseas to Cuba, the American South and beyond.
Nazaret’s inability to speak makes him especially tragic (and may double as a reference to the longtime silence maintained by Turkey concerning the genocide). It’s a considerably risky move by Mr. Akin, and it echoes the unevenly balanced priorities of the film.
Great care is taken with the panoramic vistas of Turkish badlands and richly detailed interiors, the searchingly cyclical motif of the score and the portrayal of the wearying, touch-and-go ordeals of encountering friends and enemies on the road. But there’s a recurring — and frankly mystifying — shortfall when it comes to the screenplay, by Mr. Akin and Mardik Martin. Too many scenes feel routine or clichéd, sometimes even those depicting extreme experiences.
Mr. Akin made his name with the dramatic vim and vigor of films like “Head-On,” and one can only wish “The Cut” had gone that extra mile.