Slamdance ‘24: On the Way Home

As late as 2023, the United Nations formally recognized the rights of ethnic Georgians to return to their homes in Abkhazia. Yet, nobody is out in the streets protesting on their behalf, because they were expelled by Russian-backed separatists. For years, they lived in large abandoned Soviet-era spa resorts, as viewers can see in Georgi Kvelidze’s shrewdly observant documentary, On the Way Home, which screens at the 2024 Slamdance Film Festival.

It is a strange place to grow up, especially for “Haiko,” a young boy living with his grandmother. His father died in the war, while his rarely-seen mother works in the big city to support her family. To her credit, she tries to call regularly, but for Haiko and his grandmother are mostly on their own, like most Abkhazian refugees.

The once-grand buildings of Tskaltubo have fallen into disrepair, but as we can see from archival footage, they were once grandly luxurious. Kvelidze cleverly emphasizes the point with superimposed “then-and-now” split-screens. These sequences also help differentiate the film from other socially conscious fly-on-the-wall documentaries.

The refugees have lived in Tskaltubo for years (officially, they are not squatters), but the beleaguered Georgian state is preparing to move them to permanent new homes. Of course, that sort of implies giving up any hope of returning to their Abkhazia homes.

NYFF ’14: Letters to Max

It is a would-be separatist state, born out of ethnic cleansing. At least, that is OSCE’s judgment and the UN somewhat mutedly concurs. Tellingly, only human rights-challenged Russia, Venezuela, and Nicaragua as well as foreign aid-seeking Nauru officially recognize the Georgian breakaway territory. Yet, somehow Parisian-based American expat filmmaker Eric Baudelaire struck up a correspondence with former Abkhazian foreign minister Maxim Gvinjia, using their exchanges as the structure of his docu-essay Letters to Max (trailer here), which screens as a Projections selection at the 52^nd New York Film Festival.

Frankly, Abkhazia does not even meet the dubious separatist standard asserted by the majority Russians in Ukrainian Crimea. Before the 1992-1993 separatist war, Abkhazia’s population was roughly fifty percent ethnic Georgian and only one quarter ethnic Abkhazian. Of course, that would change drastically. Eventually, Baudelaire will ask Gvinjia tough questions about the expulsion of Georgians, but he starts with a full hour of softballs.

It is clear why Gvinjia was relatively successful in politics. He is a natural story teller, blessed with a reassuring voice. According to the film’s meta-conceit, Baudelaire sent Gvinjia a letter, just to see whether it would reach him. In turn, Gvinjia responded with the first of the audio tapes heard throughout the film, which Baudelaire later married up with appropriate travelogue video of Abkhazia.

We hear a bit about Gvinjia’s war experiences and his nostalgia for the old Soviet Union, somewhat more about his family life, and revisit the watershed day Russia formally announced their recognition of Abkhazia. He also recounts the first official Abkhazian state visit to Nicaragua and Venezuela. Honestly, it is nice to know, as late as 2008, there was still a bureaucrat in the State Department with enough gumption to freeze Abkhazia’s funds in the U.S. after they spent a daylong stopover in Cuba.

In all fairness, Baudelaire deserves credit for seriously raising human rights issues in the last fifteen minutes. He does not merely ask a one-off question about the forced expulsion of Georgians just so he can say he did it. He has real follow-ups as well. He even challenges the appropriateness of the lack of Georgian voices counterbalancing Gvinjia, but he picks the darnedest time to raise doubts about his fundamental concept. Arguably, these exchanges should have come up front, to provide context for everything that would follow. Even so, Baudelaire never really delves into graphic reports of ethnic cleansing massacres.

All this probably makes Letters sound far more provocative and extreme than it really is. It shares no kinship with Triumph of the Will. However, it certainly offers a dubious political entity an opportunity to try to score propaganda points. Highly problematic, Letters to Max is not recommended when it screens this Saturday (10/4) at the Beale, as part of this year’s NYFF.