The ordinary has always been political and will remain so, especially when you are an inseparable part of the urban (and very political) environment of Tbilisi. When I began working on my documentary I embarked on an introspective journey, crafting a visual narrative about two friends living in Tbilisi's urban landscape. The story explores their individual and shared experiences and examines the emotional shifts experienced by every young adult. With my camera in hand, I became the film's third character. Using a subjective, hand-held filming style, I followed Tina and Luka every step of the way: in their homes, on the streets, at the university. Throughout this process, the camera became more than just a tool. It became another character of the story, both separate from me and an inseparable extension of myself.
My main interest as a filmmaker was based on observing a state of “limbo”, attempting to break through it, and observing my own emotional state from a distant perspective during a very self-reflective phase in life. Memory and transformation are the two themes that currently fascinate me the most and I decided to connect them to the film. I began capturing my everyday life and rediscovering my friends through the lens of my camera.
On April 8, 2024, during a parliamentary bureau meeting, the Georgian Parliament discussed the draft bill titled “On Transparency of Foreign Influence.” By April 12, the Legal Issues Committee began working on this so-called “foreign agents” law. Soon after, large-scale protests and demonstrations erupted against what was now called the “Russian law”, becoming an inseparable part of our daily lives. The calm, ordinary rhythm of life was suddenly disrupted by a process that we were unwillingly drawn into.
A political crisis begins, and you recognize that your country is radically shifting its political trajectory.
Routines are shattered, and the environment throws you into a state of shock. The responsibilities that once took priority are now pushed to the background. All of this unfolds as you come to realize that your future is under threat. A political crisis begins, and you recognize that your country is radically shifting its political trajectory. You find yourself in a massive, collective struggle, fighting for a better future for your country. Gradually, standing in front of the parliament for hours, inhaling tear gas and dealing with the constant disappointment become the new normal. This process transforms into a routine, your primary responsibility.
Naturally, these events became an inseparable part of the film. Alongside Tina, Luka and my camera, I joined the protests, and the film’s narrative focus shifted to the suddenly altered political landscape in the country. Protesting became a fundamental part of our ordinary life – a routine that we eventually adapted to. It far exceeded anything we had ever experienced before, even though a constant state of protesting was nothing new to us.
Auto-ethnography became my most significant methodology and the storytelling approach I chose during the filmmaking process. I observed a reality deeply familiar to me: the people and environment I knew so intimately. Through the lens of the camera, I began to embody, preserve, and study memory and change from my own perspective. The camera transformed into a collaborator, observing alongside me. It also became an observer of myself as the film's third character. In some sense, the film evolved into both a portrait of Tina and Luka and an autobiographical self-portrait.
During the battle against oppressive forces, I realized that I held a weapon more powerful than any other: the camera.
With the camera in my hand, I held the power to capture a moment and control it. I could turn an event or a person into something tangible, physical. I became its owner, deciding how I want to reinterpret it. During the physical and emotional battle against oppressive forces, I realized that I held a weapon more powerful than any other. It was a weapon feared by all, one that people instinctively avoid. I held a camera - an instrument that captures real events exactly as they are. It captures violence, injustice, lies, fear, and triumph exactly as they really are. In a critical moment, I knew that with my press card in hand, I could be a stronger woman than a masked policeman with violence in his hands.
I found my reflections in my city, in my friends, and in my favorite places. I aligned myself with the camera, I was fighting with its help, and I allowed it to protect me. My characters, through their involvement in the political changes of Tbilisi, have created a collective image and face for all young people engaged in this process, myself included. My small group of friends turned out to be significantly political. Tina and Luka's personal stories gained public and political significance. We experienced and we adapted together. Auto-ethnography became a practice of adaptation—a way to get used to the rhythms, forces, and currents that were shaping our social life at that moment.
Tiku Kobiashvili
