And Then We Danced May 2026

In the heart of Tbilisi, where tradition is as rigid as the postures in Georgian national dance, Levan Akin’s (2019) unfolds as a vibrant, defiant love letter to Georgian culture . While it may look like a familiar coming-of-age story on the surface, this film is a revolutionary act of reclaiming identity from the clutches of nationalism. A Tale of Two Dancers

Whether you're a fan of dance, queer cinema, or simply powerful storytelling, this is an unmissable experience that proves love and tradition aren't incompatible—they just need room to breathe. And Then We Danced

is a luminous tour de force that reminds us that culture is not a museum piece—it is a living, breathing thing that must evolve with its people. The film's final audition scene is not just a performance; it is a guttural scream of existence. In the heart of Tbilisi, where tradition is

The film’s impact extended far beyond the screen. Inspired by violent attacks on a 2013 Pride parade in Tbilisi, director Levan Akin shot the movie in secrecy under the threat of protests. When it finally premiered in Georgia, it prompted violent demonstrations from ultraconservative groups, yet it also became a rallying cry for the local LGBTQ+ community. Final Thoughts is a luminous tour de force that reminds

Beyond the Steps: Why "And Then We Danced" Is More Than Just a Dance Movie

One of the most striking sequences involves Merab dancing for Irakli to Robyn’s "Honey" —a playful, shirtless, and quietly subversive moment that contrasts the stifling rehearsal studio with a private space of pure self-expression. A Real-World Revolution