In Georgia, the small nation in the Caucasus of less than four million people, these times of geopolitical volatility have heightened the gnawing sense of threat from neighbouring Russia felt by citizens, and nowhere more so than in the north near the border with Abkhazia, a region under Russian control. In her feature debut Blueberry Dreams, which had its world premiere at the Copenhagen International Documentary Festival and screens at DOK Leipzig in competition for the audience award, director Elene Mikaberidze offers a deeply humane, sensitive and wry-humoured portrait of the precarious nature of existence for Georgians battling to forge a future in this unpredictable frontier land. She follows one family there from April 2021 to December 2022, in an intimate atmosphere of camaraderie and trust, as they venture to set up a blueberry farm.
“This will be a paradise,” declares Soso, a retired engineer whose stoic optimism buoys his family as they lay the foundation to make their fortune, or at least a living, from blueberries. They have mortgaged everything they have and staked their livelihood on the state’s Plant the Future funding programme, which provides loans for farms on previously uncultivated land. He and his wife Nino are well aware of the risks of growing fruit in a highly unstable location in which a military flare-up could happen at any moment, and there is no financial buffer for a failed harvest. Colour-drenched billboards from the Bank of Georgia, in which a hand proffers a bouquet of ripe produce, declare loftily that “belief” is the most important thing — a propagandistic plug for sheer willpower in entrepreneurship that glosses over a lack of hands-on training or practical assistance on the ground. Instead, the Meladze family consult online tutorials on their handheld phones to glean any knowhow they can on the berry business. Their home on the plantation is also little more than a construction zone, as they start from next to nothing, with the questionable assurance of a distant government’s promises their only guarantee. The Christmas fireplaces are cosy and the family are always quick to laugh, but these are no magic talismans against the pressure of bills, and rising interest rates.
Power cuts are a frequent reality. These point to the unreliability of the wider infrastructure, and trigger memories for the family of 2008, when Russia invaded, backing separatists and internally displacing Georgian civilians, who have still not managed to return. (This background is succinctly explained for international audiences in dialogue that comes across as more scripted than in relaxed domestic moments, but not stilted.) Nino was scheduled to give birth by Caesarean section to Giorgi when the war started, and the sound of tanks replayed in her head long after. Trauma is never far from the surface for the Meladzes, especially now that Russian troops are in such close proximity, and the TV broadcasts news from the ongoing war in Ukraine into their living room at night, a conflict in which imperialistic aggression also came under the guise of protecting Russian inhabitants. The kids discuss Putin’s authoritarianism between themselves, their absurd, mythologised patchwork of overheard information amusing on the surface, but revealing the inescapability of the politics of terror even in their inexperienced universe.
Blueberry Dreams is just as much, if not more, about the Meladze children, teenager Giorgi and ten-year-old Lazare. An observational camera glides around with them as they explore, riding their bikes or looking for tiny snakes in the well. They are alive with the curiosity of youth, as they get to know the place — but whether this makeshift, unformed and contested territory can ever feel like a secure home for them is perhaps the largest question in the film. Soso expresses a vision that they will in turn build a bigger house on the land; his sons’ ambitions are less defined. Lazare has dreams of becoming an artist, but Giorgi is more ambivalent about whether to go abroad and study, becoming part of the nation’s brain drain, or to follow in his father’s footsteps as a farmer. The family stays resolute in their support for one another, but the wider future of Georgia, which their paths will hinge on, is a question mark. This is a documentary that remains slimly sketched, but offers its socio-political insights with a big heart and a lightness of touch. Georgia’s ongoing political turmoil has pushed it high on the global news agenda, surely increasing international interest further.
Director, screenwriter: Elene Mikaberidze
Cast: Giorgi Meladze, Nino Meladze, Lazare Meladze, Soso Meladze
Producer: Elene Margvelashvili
Cinematographer: Patrick Wendt
Editors: Philippe Boucq, Yennick LeroyProduction companies: Parachute Films (Georgia), Wide Studios (France), Iota Production (Belgium)
Sound design: Marco Pascal
Venue: DOK Leipzig (Audience competition)
In Georgian, Russian
75 minutes
