Don’t Tell Me the Boy Was Mad 2015

Berlin, 1921 — Soghomon Tehlirian, a survivor of the 1915 Armenian genocide, shoots Talaat Pasha, a key figure tied to the crimes. The courtroom drama that follows and his eventual acquittal become a watershed moment in the long, ongoing struggle to secure recognition of the genocide, a truth the Turkish government had long denied. The case reverberates beyond the courtroom walls, shaping discussions about accountability, memory, and justice for a traumatized people.

Marseille, 1970s — Hovannès Alexandrian and Anouch Alexandrian run a modest grocery, eking out a living while trying to preserve family life. Their son, Aram Alexandrian, leaves home to join militants based in Paris who believe force can drive political change. In a high-stakes operation, [Aram Alexandrian] and Anahit are chosen to assassinate the Turkish ambassador in France. A bystander named Gilles Teissier is gravely injured in the fallout, losing the use of both legs in the attack.

As the plot deepens, Aram and Anahit flee to Beirut to join an ASALA training camp led by Vrej. [Anouch Alexandrian] is horrified by the violence that has erupted and makes a visit to Gilles in the hospital, who remains largely unaware of the broader Armenian history behind the events. The fanaticism of Vrej drives a rift: Aram departs while Anahit stays loyal to the movement. Back at home, Anouch persuades Aram to meet Gilles in Beirut, seeking a moment of reconciliation between the generations touched by trauma. The meeting sets off a chain of tense choices: Haïk remains determined to shoot Aram, testing loyalties and the fragile threads of forgiveness.

Over time, Gilles Teissier and Anouch Alexandrian sustain contact, and he travels with her to Armenia to scatter the ashes of her mother, marking a poignant act of remembrance that threads the past to the present. The story weaves together memory, violence, and a search for humanity amid a history of grievance, showing how people on all sides carry the weight of history into intimate, everyday lives.