And Then We Danced

This was a look into a society that few people know much about in Western Europe. Georgia, despite being in Europe seems so far away and it is, in both geographical distance and attitudes.

Not only homophobia was on display here. I wasn't aware of the level of hatred and discrimination against Armenians there. The disgraced dancer Zaza's transgressions were made worse by their having been committed with an Armenian in Yerevan. When Merab's brother was forced to marry, disparaging rumours and gossip were spread about his wife's family possibly being of Armenian origin.

Then the homophobia. It seemed ingrained in Georgian society. Unfortunately the film didn't help in one respect. Apart from Merab and Irakli, the only other gay people portrayed were shrieking drag queens and stereotypical and dissolute gays and lesbians in seedy clubs. Many of the gay minor characters were portrayed as prostitutes. I admire the bravery of the film, but I think that this was a mistake

The dance itself encouraged masculine, hettie stereotypes too. At one time, Aleko tells Merab that there is no place for weakness or effeminism in Georgian dance, that all that was done away with fifty years previously. Nonetheless, the art form has engendered an interest in me and I'll be looking up some performances to watch online.

Merab's dance in the closing scenes was a tour de force, rejecting the imposed, ossified and constricting confines of traditional dance. It so scandalised the auditioner from the national dance group that he walked out, but the musicians and Aleko, as well as Mary, looked on fascinated.

I'd had this film for ages. I don't know why I hadn't watched it before. I think I'd been put off by the length, which was an hour and fifty three minutes. I needn't have been. I wasn't bored for a single second.

There's something pretty powerful about a story of gay sexual awakening put into the backdrop of a film that shows so many aspects of traditional Georgian culture. It was pretty courageous too, given the anti-LGBT conservatism that has a hold on the country. A young man (Levan Gelbakhiani) faces the challenges of poverty, a broken home, and chasing the difficult dream of becoming a dancer for the National Ensemble. He meets a rival dancer (Bachi Valishvili) and the two begin training together, leading to friendship and deeper feelings, which represent a challenge of their own.

I loved the glimpse into Georgian culture (dance, music, food, weddings, etc), and confess I would have liked even more of it. I also wish the dance sequences hadn't been as edited as they were - there is so much natural power and grace in these moves, and I think just holding the camera still at mid-distance for longer periods of time would have served them better. With that said, the real story here is about coming of age and gay in such a conservative country, and there the film shines. It exercises restraint by showing emerging love simply and honestly and not spending a lot of time mocking the homophobic men who menace at the outskirts. It does gets in a nice little dig in at the hypocrisy of the Orthodox Church by recounting the story of a priest responsible for "fixing" another dancer who had to leave the group because he was gay, and ended up having sex with him instead.

The cast is uniformly very good if not great, and couple of my favorite scenes were the moments with the sweet grandmas of both young men. Another is the touching moment between brothers, trying to reconcile the traditional path with nonconformity and still love one another. Lastly, the final dance sequence, showing grit and bravado but making it clear that he's personalized the dance, is stirring, and the film ends strong.

Never before in cinema have I seen a relationship in which I would so genuinely believe. In every word, move, look, gesture of Merab (Levan Gelbakhiani) I can see and feel an ordinary young artist struggling with self-identification and experiencing first love.

The idea of portraying gay romance in such a conservative country as Georgia could give the director Levan Akin many reasons to be moralistic and pretentious. Yet the end result is by no means like this. In every scene, every word, it is subtle, naturalistic, thought-provoking without any unnecessary preachiness. Opinions and feelings are conveyed through music and dance, which enables the film to achieve all its purposes in a delicate yet decisive way.

Akin does not portray Georgian society as something evil. As everywhere, there are people who hate, people who do not understand and people who support. 'And Then We Danced' is a meaningful masterpiece made by those who support not only for those who need the support, but also for those who do not understand yet.

I have never seen a Georgian movie before. Because of this movie, I searched curiously about the protagonist's city, Tbilisi and Batumi, and was shocked by their beauty. In my impression, Tbilisi only has a dark underground printing house, or a mountainous drought like Afghanistan, and Batumi is unheard of. The photos recommended by Google Maps are as beautiful as the magic world, steep cliffs, vast forests, a cathedral with a history of more than a thousand years, and highly saturated buildings. I ca n't wait to travel to Georgia tomorrow.

There are many places in the movie that remind me of "Please call me by your name". The feminine male hero broke through the shackles of the heart through unlovely love, and the ending of the love is not so important. The difference is that one through literature and art, the other through dance art. The male dancer's dance is too beautiful, coupled with the thin and romantic look, people don't want to stop at a glance. The whole movie has a strong artistic temperament, photography, and lighting, which reflects the director's high artistic level. In addition to the rich natural and cultural environment of Georgia, the breathtaking Georgian national dance, I watched and regretted that I didn't have a life. In a country where music and art are part of everyday life.

Although the director is a descendant of Georgia grown in Sweden, the whole movie is not the ethereal and brisk style of Northern Europe, but the gloomy and aesthetic style of the former Soviet Union. It may be filmed in Georgia with the film, and with the heavy history of this ancient Caucasus country and with the Soviet Union. The complicated relationship is related; the mottled dance rehearsal hall floor reminds me of Jia Zhangke's "Twenty-Four Cities". More realistic than "Please call me with your name" is that "Please" is like a utopian castle in the sky. The two male heroes have no risk of livelihood. They just had a love relationship in a beautiful paradise; and this movie The male host Meribu (and the entire Georgia) is living in a forced environment. The dancer ca n't make a living, and has to go to the restaurant to work; the home often has a power outage, and the mobile phone will also owe money. In addition to survival, there is also his dance. The style contradicts the "national spirit" of the tough style left over by the Soviet Union, so it is not a question of appreciation. Meribu's talent for dancing is undoubtedly extremely high ("I will dance when I can walk"), but his brother pointedly pointed out, "There is no future for you", individualism will be bound by ideology; and in In addition, under the general environment of Orthodox Church and ancient traditions, homosexuality is also regarded as immoral, and the critics mentioned repeatedly that a homosexual friend was cruelly excluded from the mainstream society. Livelihood, career, love, there is no way out, what else can he do?

As the name of the movie says, I can still dance. When Meribu danced, he was immersed in his own spiritual world. At the end of the film review, he danced in a crimson Georgian traditional costume audition, which was a disdain for all these things. He has his own dance and his own spirit. I do n't know what the result of the audition will be, but in the previous paragraph, what my brother said when comforting the broken love Meribu is undoubtedly also a hope for the audience: "You have to go out and leave here." Just like the director himself, he left Georgia 's homeland Only when you go out can you look back and face up to what has shaped your core.

The direction and the screenplay is very organic in the way you don't notice how slowly the characters transition and do what you expect them to do. Both the guys are really beautiful at acting out their roles and I loved how in every setting the background noise was prominent which made it more real? I liked it.