“You see, this is my life. It always will be! There's nothing else - just us - and the cameras – and HYPERLINK "https://genius.com/4220532/Sunset-blvd-sunset-boulevard-delusional-descent-down-stairs/Those-wonderful-people-out-there-in-the-dark"those wonderful people out there in the dark!…” -with these dramatic words descends the stairs Nora Desmond in the film “Sunset Boulevard,” for whom the police and journalists enquire at home for the murder of screenwriter Joe Gillis. Completely cut off from reality and trapped in the world of cinema, in the time of bygone times and in the glory of the past, the silent film actress rehearses her film role for the last time before being arrested (or, perhaps, before being taken to an asylum for the mentally ill) and approaches Cecil DeMille, who is standing by the cameras: “ HYPERLINK "https://genius.com/4068316/Sunset-blvd-sunset-boulevard-delusional-descent-down-stairs/All-right-mr-de-mille-im-ready-for-my-close-up"All right, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up.”
For some reason, this masterpiece came to mind when I first watched Nana Janelidze’s film, “Will There Be A Theatre Up There?!” (2011). Not because its main character, a monumental figure of Georgian culture, Kakhi Kavsadze, laments the past while telling his life story, or is blindly stuck in it and continues to serve art, having lost the sense of reality, conversely, the legendary Georgian actor remembers his past life with pride and dignity and also follows the past and the remaining years worthily, looks up with modest hope and quoting Akaki Vasadze, another epochal creative figure of his generation, asks: “Will There Be A Theatre Up There?!” This might be what Nora Desmond would ask (and would unthinkingly give a positive answer), but about cinema...
Life is a rather strange and complicated thing. It seems that you are in one moment, the next – you are not. The years of life seem to drag on, but in the end, time flies by so quickly that even those years seem like seconds and it is hard to part with them, and this is especially hard and harsh for artists. "Sunset Boulevard," among many other topics, is an ode to an artist and a person in love with art, who (quite rightly and for understandable reasons) wants to be part of this magic forever - both in this world and in the world after death. It is around this question that Nana Janelidze's film unites, the cornerstone of which is the legendary Georgian actor - Kakhi Kavsadze and his biography, but here he looks up at the approaching end with full dignity, common sense and hope, telling his life story with his usual humor, eloquence, charisma, intriguing manner and enchanting timbre.
“I am an artist, Kakhi Kavsadze” – this is how the actor begins his story, although before that he is preceded by a small doubt – I have always played others, now I have to play myself, who knows what will come of it – he says excitedly – however, after a certain age, everyone’s life is interesting... With this film alone, we can be sure that his life was as interesting as he himself, because despite the fact that he has told many personal stories over the decades, and from his interviews, a general map of his life’s adventures can be pieced together like a puzzle. Seeing Kakhi Kavsadze in such a way, so sincere, honest and emotional is a unique case. And besides, he is an old man, having already lived his whole life. His already delicious narration in this film has a different “taste” - as if he were a grandfather and we, like grandchildren, were sitting by the fireplace and listening. What is especially significant is the unification in this specific creative-aesthetic format and, moreover, with the vision of a director whose work has always been associated with a special melancholic sincerity and a different representation of legendary people. Nana Janelidze “managed” to “catch” Kakhi Kavsadze in such a timely manner through such a lens and preserved for us a precious memory of this rare person who was loved by everyone.
We can see Kakhi Kavsadze in an abandoned and dilapidated building, which is most likely a former factory. Nana Janelidze does not confine the actor to four walls, on a chair (this would be more of an insult to him than a cliché), on the contrary - she allows him to move freely in an open space, which creates a dynamic and theatrical environment, so that he can feel and act as naturally as possible. So to speak, his life is played out in a direct mode. Such a decision gives the director a good opportunity to give a meaning to the space, which is devoid of function and is left as a mere heap of bare walls and columns, and to describe in it the main era and period, the Soviet Union, in which the hero of his film spent most of his life and to which he even devotes the main part of the narrative. Accordingly, we can see how such a use of space turns out to be doubly logical and beneficial for the film. With its minimalist design, it resembles a large and expanded theater stage and, by talking about the past, creates an interpretation of a now-disintegrated empire, where actors walk with flags; a mother (Nino Kuratashvili) and two boys (Irakli and Niko Kakauridze), who play Kakhi Kavsadze, his brother, and his mother, wait for their father to appear from the train; with moving platforms on which the actor is put on make-up; as well as decorations that blend together dynamically and even a little eclectically. The director tries to create a sense of immediacy, naturalness, and make the environment as simple and direct as the actor himself.
Despite the attempt to keep all this as far away from artificiality as possible, there is still a reportage and banality at certain moments that can be considered more of a directorial flaw than an acting flaw - this is also, for better or worse, sometimes characteristic of Nana Janelidze's work. However, the total of 55-minute work, which could have been a little longer, is watched in one breath and really leaves an impact on us.
The driving and “explosive” force of the film is Kakhi Kavsadze himself, who relives his entire life - from childhood to the present, that is, ending with the collapse of the Soviet Union and the restoration of Georgia's independence. The plot is based on his brother, Imeri Kavsadze’s stories and includes many interesting and unknown details - the Kavsadze family's dynastic talent, adventures, tragedies. And all this is brought to life in the factory by the actors, right next to Kakhi Kavsadze. It is doubly interesting and emotional to hear all this from the first source itself - those feelings, nuances and details that only Kakhi Kavsadze could convey so vividly and passionately: stories of his father's heroism, his grandfather's interesting connections, Soviet terror, the danger of repression, stories about his wife - Bela Mirianashvili and his love, about his creative life in cinema and theatre, how he opened the theatre doors to peaceful demonstrators on the night of April 9, 1989 and took refuge in the Rustaveli Theatre, etc. Accompanied by Misha Mdinaradze's music, all this is imbued with a pure old Tbilisi and colorful hue - an aura that will never be repeated. The film is saturated with minimalist and decorative symbols. Especially at the end, the red tablecloth on the table, which resembles the Soviet Union in shape.
“How many things have changed - the world map has changed... Everything begins and ends... This great era has ended and something new is beginning - I don't know what kind, but the new is always difficult and painful... This new one will be like us,” says the actor with dubious hope as he finishes his story: “I also want to cheer up and encourage [people]... What can I do - be an artist? Desdemona, did you pray today? [Imitating Akaki Khorava]... I could go crazy. Who are these great ones: smart, stupid, crazy, jokey...How much joy did they bring to the audience with their play, and how did they enjoy this play? The great Akaki Vasadze ordered to spread a carpet on the street so that he would play there. Before his death, he asked, “Will There Be a Theatre Up There?!...”- Mr. Kavsadze asks at the end of the play at the Rustaveli Theater, already a clown with a grimace, as he pays homage to and quotes the titans of Georgian theater and cinema, especially Akaki Khorava, and repeating the last phrase three times, he finally starts singing "Mravalzhamieri" in the empty hall, to which other voices join in from behind the screen, from the post-production space…
The film is melancholic. It simply could not be otherwise. Among many things, it is a reminder and reflection on what a titanic generation Georgian culture had in the previous century, one better than another, who created an era, who inspire us to this day. Since then, we have been proud of them, imitating and quoting them. As one of the “last Mohicans” of this era, Kakhi Kavsadze is evidence, a reflection of the cultural, social, political and mental realities of that unique period. A person as a mirror of the era and more - it is interesting how Nana Janelidze tries to portray such distinguished representatives of older generation in her films in different roles at the same time (for example, Veriko Anjaparidze in the film “Family”) and at the same time represent them in the context of a general portrait of the era: a person who is much more than a body and a name and surname - he is a concept, mentality and philosophy, which is eternal, but like physical matter, he has a beginning and an end. However, this should not become a reason for sadness, because, as the famous saying goes: “Don’t cry because it’s over – be happy because it happened.” Kakhi Kavsadze himself bids us farewell with a clownish smile and wink, making us smile and leaving us in tears, but these are tears of joy.
In 2015, we met Kakhi Kavsadze and Nana Janelidze at a special screening of this film at the Giffoni International Youth Film Festival, at the Tbilisi National Palace of Student Youth. The hall was packed. That was the first time I saw Kakhi Kavsadze alive, his energy and warmth, and how everyone looked up to him as a teacher, mentor, father... Everyone wanted to ask questions, and he answered them with great patience and love. Then I understood what it means to love a nation, regardless of age and generation, and the fact is that people like him and their work do not cease true existence because their work and name remain immortal and continue life in time and space. The genius director, Kote Marjanishvili, said this to the prodigy scenographer Petre Otskheli, who was subjected to repression, before his death: “Death is a stupid word. Death does not exist. What will remain after you is victory over everything that is called death, that is, eternal oblivion.” This is the answer to the question: “Will there be a Theatre up there?! Yes, there is!
Eter Parchukidze
