Though Akin has stated that And Then We Danced was inspired by encounters with activists in Georgia, it’s hard to imagine the film existing without the idyllic influence of Luca Guadagnino’s Call Me By Your Name. But Akin lacks the discipline and the creativity of Guadagnino’s direction—that combination of maximalist tendencies and rigorously self-imposed rules
The most beloved film of the festival, greeted with near rapturous adoration. Narrative is conventional, following similar plot beats to many other queer films (esp. Hard Paint), but makes up for it with likable characters and beautifully cinematic moments. Dance set to Robyn's Honey is one of the best scenes of the year, erotically charged and bathed in golden light. Another film about achieving self-actualisation.
Hard to resist this charming, straightforward story of a young gay dancer finding his own path in traditional Georgian society as he trains in the national dance. A charismatic performance from Levan Gelbakhiani takes us through family relationships, first love and struggles against the pressures to conform professionally and socially. A great soundtrack and some fine dancing help along the way
How do you rate a film that's essentially a heartrending thrill ride for Desire? I'm grateful for the slowness of the shots that lets the gestures of sex--passing into tenderness if not love--unfold in their own time; for the depth it gave both fraternity and femininity (so often flattened to make way for the gay); for its vision of Tsibili. Cliche made sublime is no less valuable than eliding cliche altogether.
A breathtaking film that gives us a snapshot into the lives of queer people in a country most know little about, Georgia. The use of light, dance, and a soundtrack that juxtaposes traditional Georgian music with the likes of ABBA and Robyn (the dance to Honey being one of my favourite scenes) made for a moving experience.
7.6/10, "AND THEN WE DANCED resoundingly reverberates as a crusading warrior, plunging its defiant blade into the omnipresence where masculinity is solely defined by a hidebound and rigorous notion."
Finding and losing are the two movements that seem to carry Akin’s film. Finding your own sexual identity, finding love, support where you don’t expect it. And losing love, losing your view of the future, even your own country that isn’t ready for you yet. This could’ve turned out to be a sensationalist movie, but Akin manages to avoid this pitfall. Although Merab gets into trouble, he’s never a victim.