“Our nation is at this very moment is fighting for her survival,” said Andy Garcia while playing President of Georgia Mikheil Saakashvili giving one of his addresses during the August 2008 Georgia-Russian war. “The Russians have suggested to mediators that our Government be given a safe passage out of our country. But we are not going anywhere. We are staying here to protect our capital and protect our people. May God save Georgia and all of us.”
“Cut,” declared a ubiquitous voice as the journalists snapped last pictures of Garcia leaving the podium. Reporters did not get the chance to ask Garcia questions: interviews were excluded from his contract. Instead, the Hollywood crew invited reporters to be part of the cast. They participated in the filming of 4 scenes: 3 Presidential addresses at various stages of the war and the August 12 rally outside the Parliament building. Reporters were acting out the roles they know best, those of professional journalists.
It was Tuesday October 20, the second day of filming in Tbilisi, as photographers, TV crews and newspaper columnists gathered outside Parliament on Rustaveli Avenue at 10:30 a.m. Scenes at the Presidential Residence had been shot on Monday, October 19. Provisionally entitled Georgia, the film features Andy Garcia, best known for Ocean’s 11 and The Untouchables, as Saakashvili and Dean Cain, best known for the Superman series. The plot revolves around the fate of an American journalist and his cameraman caught in the fog of war. The movie is scheduled to premiere in theatres worldwide in May 2010. American film director Renny Harlin, best known for the movies Die Hard 2 and Cliffhanger, said that his crew plans to return to Tbilisi for the film’s grand opening.
With a budget of $32 million, ‘Georgia’ does not come close to the scale of Harlin’s previous work, but the director called it his “big war movie.” Harlin said that he wants to expose the conflict’s human dimension while staying away from politics. Even though the filmmakers argue that the movie will carry a strong anti-war message, there is evidence that ‘Georgia’ will advance Tbilisi’s view of events. The Government allowed the Hollywood crew to use public buildings and military units in the filming. Furthermore, one of the co-producers is Papuna Davitaia, an MP from the President’s United National Movement. The Russian side has already given its version of events in the film Olympus Inferno, aired on Russian TV earlier this year.
Garcia stayed in Georgia for only two days even though the filming is scheduled to continue in Gori, which suffered the most from the Russian invasion, and Tsalka. He met Saakashvili on Monday, October 19, to prepare for the filming.
“Andy Garcia” became the most frequently pronounced two-word phrase I heard on Tuesday morning as journalists waited anxiously in the Parliament courtyard to be invited onto the set. At about 2 p.m. the first group, consisting of hand-picked photographers, entered the building. Those of us who were less lucky accommodated ourselves on the steps. Production assistants, mostly Georgian, reassured the journalists that everyone would get the chance to see Garcia in action. But it was Brad, an American, who picked the future Hollywood stars. His choice frequently fell on reporters with desirable equipment: he wanted flash photographers first, then a couple of TV crews, then both.
“Back off, just back off,” Brad told journalists who surrounded him each time he appeared from behind a security guard protecting the slightly open doors to the set. “This is giving me a headache,” he complained to the Georgian production assistant who translated his demands to the journalists.
My chance to get on the set came about at around 4 p.m. After the group of 13 journalists was properly positioned and the omnipotent voice declared “Action”, Garcia walked up to the podium. Considerably shorter than Saakashvili, he spoke in a harsh, ex-Soviet accent, rolling his Rs and gesticulating emotionally. “My fellow citizens and world leaders, our nation remains at war,” Garcia said accompanied by persistent clicking of photo cameras. “We are facing a massive attack by Russian forces. Our troops are falling back into a disputed territory but the attack against us continues.”
We heard this speech three times. At the end of each address Garcia clasped his hands together in the so-called Yoga prayer pose. He remained silent for a while and then exited the set. “Cut,” we heard only after Garcia was well out of sight. No interviews were allowed.
Emerging from the Parliament building I realized that Tbilisi had become truly engulfed in Hollywood fever as Harlin’s crew prepared the set for the mass demonstration scene. Journalists were once again invited to play themselves on the front line of the demonstration. We were carefully lined up along the stage, with enough free space to protect us from the incidental pressure of the 5,000-strong crowd of extras hired in Tbilisi, which was now marching in behind us. Pushed up against one of the guards standing in front of me, I was looking up at the stage as Harlin addressed the crowd.
“We are very happy and proud to be in Georgia making this film,” said Harlin. “And tonight we are making history because we are shooting one of the biggest crowd scenes ever in a motion picture. But what happened in Georgia a year ago certainly deserves one of the best and biggest scenes.” He left to make final preparations for filming.
“Roll please, we are rolling,” an omnipresent voice declared over our heads. “Action.” The crowd exploded with a crescendo of escalating chants: “Georgia, Georgia, Georgia” (Sakartvelo, as translated into Georgian). Then the cheering automatically switched to “Misha, Misha, Misha,” as Garcia appeared on stage.
“Today the forces of occupation gather at our gates,” said Garcia in a rough and slightly cracking voice. “But standing with us here tonight are six European Presidents who have travelled thousands of miles in defiance of fear of death.” Only five additional actors accompanied Garcia onto the stage. But this discrepancy hardly mattered as the crowd met his every sentence with ever-intensifying excitement. Even Garcia’s announcement about the presence of the occupation troops in Georgia evoked a yell of exhilaration.
“We know tonight that the invaders are trying to end our independence like different empires have wanted to do for two thousand years, throughout our history,” Garcia said with a believable but slightly overdone emotion. “We know that this empire is powerful, they have lots of tanks and lots of planes. But we have something that is more precious: we have the love of freedom!” An image of Tolkien’s Gollum from The Lord of the Rings trilogy flashed through my mind and dissolved in the mass of Georgian flags and banners decrying the Russian invasion flying over my head.
“We have the love of freedom and we have the love of independence,” Garcia continued. “And we tell them today in front of the world: freedom will never retreat and freedom will never surrender. We will stand here tonight as a proud European nation, like the Finns, like the Czechs, like the Hungarians before us.” Garcia spoke to the accompaniment of his excited listeners as they also waved the flags of Ukraine, the European Union, the United States and the Baltic nations.
“May God bless Georgia and may God bless the Georgian people,” Garcia concluded as the crowd burst out in fortissimo: “Georgia, Georgia, Georgia.” “Long live free Georgia!” was Garcia’s final declaration. Caught in the excitement of the moment, the crowd kept cheering “Georgia, Georgia, Georgia,” long after the omnipotent voice had declared “Cut!”
Harlin shot this scene four times. In the last the camera focussed on the crowd. “You are officially Hollywood stars now,” Harlin said. And the people took his words seriously. Standing in front of the stage I suddenly felt as if a million fingers had started poking me in the back. Turning round I saw at least five aspiring Hollywood stars who clearly wanted my place. At my side an elderly woman was persistently pushing her teenage grandson to the front.
“The more you show up now, the more you will show up in the movie,” Harlin said, provoking even further commotion. As I moved away from the heat of the action, I saw people practicing for the final showdown: some waving banners, others preparing to snatch last photos of Garcia with camera phones.
When the shooting finished, Garcia graced the public with one more appearance. The crowd was still chanting “Misha, Misha, Misha,” when this left-over emotion was gradually replaced with “Garcia, Garcia, Garcia,” as the actor came on stage for the last time.
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Pré-production : faite
