Real-life dancer Levan Gelbakhiani is Mehrab, a redhead with round, watchful eyes training as part of the National Georgian Ensemble in Tbilisi. It’s in his blood – his delinquent older brother David (Giorgi Tsereteli) is a dancer too, as were his parents and ageing grandmother. A macho discipline that comprises forceful military moves and elaborate, athletic leaps, the tradition of Georgian dancing contains “no room for weakness” and certainly “no sex”, according to Mehrab’s teacher. Enter new student Irakli (Bachi Valishvili), tall, dark and handsome with a twinkle in his eye and a spring in his step that knocks Mehrab sideways. Swedish writer-director Levan Akin’s heady third feature is attuned to the way desire has a tendency to throw everyday mundanities into sharp relief.
Mehrab is indifferent when dance partner Mary (Ana Javakishvili) falls asleep on his shoulder, but when it’s Irakli, he’s silently elated. Most of the boys’ increasingly charged interactions play out in the studio before the sun has risen, and after hours, over a lamp’s orange glow; cinematographer Lisabi Fridell bathes their blooming attraction in syrupy amber light. A street lamp illuminates a private show and turns it gold, as Mehrab dances shirtless for Irakli to Robyn’s seductive track Honey. This awakening eventually leads him to one of Tbilisi’s underground gay clubs. Gelbakhiani is commanding in his first acting role, metabolising heartbreak and moving with an irrepressible prowling sensuality.
In ultra-conservative Georgia, desire between two men remains strictly taboo. And so longing throbs like a sickness in small, unacknowledged gestures like the careful folding of a would-be lover’s T-shirt or a juicy, bleeding pomegranate (recalling, perhaps, Call Me By Your Name’s peach). Luca Guadagnino’s queer romance might seem like a reference point, but that film’s swanky Italian villa is a world away from Mehrab’s, with his precarious restaurant job and out-of-credit mobile phone. Here, the stakes are higher, and so the romance sweeter.
