And Then We Danced

I knew nothing about traditional Georgian dance until now, but after watching this controversial drama with the somewhat ambiguous title And Then We Danced, I have to respectfully admit that it has something to offer. The same applies to the main character, Levan Gelbakhiani; he is not only very striking to look at, and not only is he a gifted dancer, he also has a strong acting talent, which he demonstrates here with due confidence. Levan Akin, a Swedish-born filmmaker with Georgian roots, has filmed a fragile and yet extremely powerful gay-themed story that, in its own way, charmed and moved me at the same time. My only criticism would be the way the dance scenes were shot. If the cinematographer had focused more often on their whole bodies and not just their torsos, the aesthetics of movement would have been much better. (80%) (22.02.2023)

And Then We Danced would probably get lost in the plethora of queer-themed films, but since it takes place in Georgia, which is not exactly gay-friendly, and also offers a look behind the scenes of local traditions (dances, weddings, family customs). It leaves a strange and novel impression on the viewer, even though the story is about the familiar theme of a socially disapproved relationship. I was very impressed by the dance and music sequences, which really had their own charm. Perhaps only the relationship between the two main characters could have been fleshed out more. A weaker four stars! (08.06.2020)

It's filmed pretty clumsily (especially the camera and editing during the dance scenes), but it's a pleasure to watch the exuberant youth sitting broke outside with a cigarette in familiar solidarity. Plus, I enjoyed watching the Georgian boys pull the same sort of subtle stunts we tried with the girls when we were 16. The universality of love, indeed. Extra points for the great panicked reviews here from dudes who clearly haven't quite figured themselves out yet. (05.08.2020)

I’ve seen the forbidden love theme so often, but never before in such a dry, raw and realistic setting as is the strongly religious and stereotypical country of Georgia. This movie really is different and extraordinary, mainly thanks to the traditional Georgian music, the camerawork and also the amazing chemistry between both central characters. (14.06.2020)

A predictable coming-out story (transplant Call Me By Your Name to Georgia and you will get the plot), pushed forward by a pile of clichés, black-and-white oppositions (a flawless queer protagonist vs. homophobia and the obscurantism of men representing tradition), repetitive empty scenes (parties, trips with friends) and half-baked or unnecessary motifs (for example, the role of the protagonist’s parents, an injured leg). The dance scenes give the film a certain levity, but their charm is diminished significantly by the confusing cutting and frequent engagement of the actors in medium-long shots, when we do not see their whole bodies in motion. There is a lack of greater sensuality, excitement and tension in most of the film, which was shot almost completely in close-ups with a shallow depth of field so that the moments when something crucial occurs meld with others. Only during two several-minute shots of a party did it seem that the style of the film finally got in tune with the protagonist and, like him, began to communicate through movement. A bit late for that, which is a shame, as something more vital that reaches down deep without blending in with a dozen similar films could have been pulled out Levan Gelbakhiani’s dance performance and better portrayal of the characters. 65% (29.04.2020)