L'autre rive

The Best Georgian film For last years, it's so difficult nowadays in georgia to make good film with good synopsis and visually too, but "the Other bank" is the one of the first in 2000's georgian cinema , that you can watch and then maybe cry to , everything is awesome, plot very interesting , director at his top, an very good acting too, i've listened the story of the main character boy, i mean "tedo" he even didn't know what does it mean Film Director, and why does he say what to do , but his acting is awesome, he's only 11 years old here and much better than many georgian actors, and the final scene is so good with many comtroverses, so i can say only one thing about Gagma Napiri , nearly Perfect, Great Movie

This film is stuck in my mind days after seeing it. The film was well-done and well-acted but viewing it was not a pleasant experience. It shares the story of Tedo, a 12 year-old Georgian refugee struggling with poverty, prejudice, and separation from his father, years after the war with Russia. In the US, we heard the headlines of Russia's invasion of Georgia, and perhaps a clip or two of Angelina Jolie visiting a refugee camp, but this kind of personal story demonstrates the lasting and long-term impact of such atrocities. The main character, Tedo is so endearing and lovable, your heart aches for him throughout. I would give anything to reach through the screen and give him the safety and love all children deserve. You wait for him to find that security and love, or to experience a moment of pure childhood joy, though you know that its unlikely. This is the kind of film that reminds you that film is insignificant except for its power to expose us to perspectives and experiences we could otherwise never see. This film will forever contribute to my perspective on war and refugees. It is a contribution to our collective morality and humanity, helping those few who will see it grow past the senseless hate and waste of war and prejudice.

Stranded in a war-torn-worn-down Tsibili in the aftermath of the conflicts between Abkhazia and Georgia in the early 90′s, 12-year-old Tedo and a slightly reluctant mother find themselves living as refugees, trying to make ends meet. As Tedo's glue sniffing friends are arrested for petty crimes and the mother prefer scummy lovers over him, the young boy embarks on a journey back to Abkhazia to find the father left behind.

The Other Bank much reminisces of Greek director Angelopoulos film Landscape in the Mist, where the children also leave what they call home on a quest to find a missing father. They both encounter various kinds of people who treat them in various ways, some times quite unexpected. What makes The Other Bank interesting in particular is that it is set in such a remote location, showcasing a reality (and the scenes it takes place in) characterized by poverty, uncertainty and everything else that war brings with. The boy moves through desolate landscapes and cross borders where passing may rob you of your life.

Politics strongly pervades pic, but philosophical aspects hand in hand with a few visually impaling scenes and a grand acting by the lead performer turns it into a definite winner.

The group of men in the closing scene are actually militant separatists who are conducting the ethnic cleansing of Georgians during the uprising in Abkhazia.

Young Tedo reluctantly joins in their drunken dance, then tries to escape, at least

mentally, by recalling his friends glue-sniffing recollections of wild African animals in one of the beginning scenes. He has now come to the realization that there is no where for him to go, nothing left of his family as he knew it. Such is the reality for

thousands of "internally displaced" children in Eastern Europe, as well as elsewhere,

that are literally left to fend for themselves for the rest of their lives. Whatever the political and military realities are in any given country, it continues to be the children, forced to grow up quickly or die at the hands of military forces from one side or the other, that will bear the brunt of future suffering.