“We are all oppressed by patriarchy and the fragile egos of men.”
Interview with Levan Akin, director of the films “And Then We Danced”, “Crossing” and the TV series
“Interview with a Vampire”
Director and screenwriter Levan Akin was born in Sweden to a family of Georgian emigrants. He has maintained a strong connection with Georgia, traveling there regularly and studying its culture and language. In 2019, he made the film "And Then We Danced" in Tbilisi. This movie received a 15-minute standing ovation at the Cannes Film Festival and Sweden chose it to represent the country at the Oscars, but the reaction in Georgia was the opposite - violent protests took place outside theaters where the film was screened. However, the director prefers to combat darkness with light. His next film, "Crossing," is a true lesson in acceptance and kindness that could be a great movie to watch with parents. In 2022, Akin took a sharp turn in his career by directing the American queer series "Interview with a Vampire." We spoke with Levan about his projects and their meanings, his relationships with relatives, and his reactions to aggression.
Section 1. “Interview with a Vampire”. How to fulfill a dream and become the director of your favorite saga.
We call each other when I'm in your hometown of Stockholm and you're in New York. Does this have anything to do with working on the third season of “Interview with the Vampire”?
No, it's not. That might be a scoop for you, but I wanted to focus on other things.
You directed two episodes in the first season and four in the second. The series was loved by both critics and audiences, winning many prestigious awards, and seems to mark a new wave of interest in Anne Rice's famous saga from the '70s. How did you, as a director of independent films, end up in this major mainstream project?
I've been a big fan of Anne Rice's books since I was a kid. They were obviously a lot more queer than Neil Jordan's “Interview with the Vampire” movie starring Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, and Kirsten Dunst turned out to be. It was my first experience reading about same-sex relationships, desire and emotions, especially in such genre and in such a large series of books. Anne Rice's popularity in the 90s was immense, and still is. For me, it was very groundbreaking. When I found out that AMC was going to do the series, I had just finished shooting “And Then We Danced” and another project in Sweden.
So you just reached out to the producers of the project: “Hi! I am Levan and I'm a big fan of Anne Rice's universe. Why don't I direct a few episodes for you?”
Almost. "And Then We Danced" had been very successful and opened a lot of doors for me as a filmmaker. I even turned down a few projects that I can't mention, but many people would be surprised. My agents wanted me to take them on, but those projects ended up being directed by other directors and turned out to be very successful. I chose to go my own way and decided to work on “Vampires.”
I am sure my agents were a little surprised, but they ultimately agreed with me. When I met with showrunner Rolin Jones, he could sense my passion for the project within minutes. That's exactly what you usually look for when creating something important to you: people who intuitively understand you, who can be your warriors, and who will fight for your vision. This has always been the case for me when assembling a team. Eventually it was kind of easy for me to get the director’s role.
I don't know about you, but for me, it's usually harder to work on something I have too much love for. You worry about it more, and you have to remain objective.
That's a good point. I think there was something like that at the beginning of the first season. Everything that was happening felt surreal, but it quickly turned into work, and then you're just trying to make the best of it.
Anyway, a good director should be willing to accept new challenges and not confine themselves to one genre, right?
Yes, I try to go where my passion is and where I feel excitement. Before I started making my own movies, I worked a lot in Swedish television. I enjoyed it at first, but I realized very quickly that it turned into just a job, and that's all. I need a deeper meaning in what I do in order to not get bored. That's why I rarely do sequels and second seasons. I've done it once; it was fun, but then I want to move on. I love 'Vampires,' though.
The original '94 movie was certainly groundbreaking. However, in it, the homosexuality, or rather bisexuality, of the main characters Louis and Lestat is barely palpable. Their relationship could just as easily be described as that of "life partners." The series develops this dynamic in a much deeper way: the relationships between the characters are more complex and emotional. Unlike many gay films or TV series in recent years, the series avoids the over-exploitation of erotic scenes. Were these aspects discussed during the making of the series?
In terms of the tone of the series, I was the main director for the second season, having directed only two episodes in the first season. Alan Taylor, the director of the first season, along with showrunner Rolin Jones, created the unique spirit of the series. As a director stepping into that established setup, I aimed to honor their vision. while also incorporating my own flavor and spin into my episodes. However, I couldn't help but put my own flavor or spin on my episodes. Luckily, that went very well in the first season. So then I had more to do in the second season, which was very, very fun.
Did working on “Interview with the Vampire” open up new opportunities in Hollywood for you?
Yes, absolutely. I think it's easier for me to do genre things now. I'm lucky to be able to do independent films and work on English language projects at the same time.
Section 2. “And Then We Danced” is a trigger movie for Georgia's defenders of morality.
Your first international project is the 2019 movie "And Then We Danced," which explores the relationship between two fellow dancers in the Georgian National Ensemble. It has never been shown in Russia; the distributors did not grant permission to screen it, even as part of the Side by Side LGBT film festival. Mass distribution was out of the question, but the movie still became extremely popular due to illegal downloads. In Georgia, the film sparked protests from conservative part of the population. How did you feel when you realized that this wave of hatred was directed at your film?
The reaction to the movie was insane, but it changed my perspective on filmmaking even more. I've always known that movies can be inspiring and thought-provoking, but I didn't expect And Then We Danced to be essentially revolutionary. It's sad to see Georgia take steps backward. However, this is a problem we see all over the world: money has found its way into politics, and a few individuals now control mass interests. This demonstrates that elections, countries and people can be bought. Just look at what happened now in America! It's troubling - billionaires are in power. Unfortunately, I feel more and more like a nihilist.
In that sense, my movies are hopeful, right? They remind us that people are capable of kindness, that we have the great capacity for empathy and solidarity. I remember my childhood in Sweden in the 80s, when the idea of justice and social democracy was sort of virtues that we were proud of. Every child, regardless of socio-economic or health status, had equal living conditions. We had free school meals so kids could focus on learning and not on problems. There were free swimming lessons and dental care. You couldn't tell who was poor and who was rich by their teeth. All this is disappearing in our world, including Sweden, where the inequality between the poor and the rich has increased. Sorry to go off into another topic, but this really bothers me.
You've been to Georgia so many times, and it holds a place in your heart. Do you think if you had lived in Georgia yourself at that time, you would have been able to make “And Then We Danced”?
I don't think so. When I saw in the news in 2013 that the Pride Parade in Tbilisi was being attacked, it sparked something within me. I realized that, living in Sweden, I have a responsibility to use this privilege, and I have to tell stories that are meaningful. It was a conscious decision. I never knew it would become so big and lead to demonstrations and other events. I just wanted to make a movie that I knew would make a difference for some people, where I could show that there are queer people within traditional spaces that have to be accepted and allowed to express themselves on their own terms, and that's okay. They shouldn’t be threatened for that.
The main character of the movie, Merab, is just an ordinary guy from an ordinary family, just like you and I were. He just happens to be queer—that's what’s in his heart. What’s important in "And Then We Danced" is that it's not just about him being queer; it’s about him trying to assert himself through his art. I think that's something everyone can relate to. The film's universality is why it broke free from just queer circles and festivals and became mainstream, if you want to call it that. People can identify with it because we are all oppressed by the patriarchy and the fragile egos of men who feel threatened by anything that is different.
The final scene, where Merab demonstrates his androgynous interpretation of classical dance in front of the patriarchs of Georgian national dance, is simply incredible. I know that some of your crew and actors are originally from Georgia. Were they safe when the wave of hate started?
It's hard for me to talk about their safety because there are so many ways one can feel unsafe. Social pressure and ostracism from family and community, as well as loss of job opportunities, can be significant factors. It's not just about the crew of the movie; young people are leaving Georgia because they no longer feel safe there. The actors from my film, on one hand, have become more open to the world, gaining recognition and the opportunity to travel more globally. On the other hand, it has been difficult for them. It's best to ask them how they feel now. However, I know that the performer of the main role, Levan Gelbakhiani, no longer lives in Georgia, and I believe this is due to both reasons.
After February 2022, a huge number of Russians, including queer people, went to Georgia, as there was no visa required and it seemed mentally more comfortable. But the situation began to deteriorate with the adoption of an identical law on LGBT propaganda in 2024, which restricts the rights and freedoms of queer people.
That's terrible. Because of this, we didn't have the opportunity to show “Crossing” in Georgia. We were planning to shoot my next movie there, which also has kind of a “Georgian trace”, but I think that's impossible now too, since it's an LGBTQ+ movie again. I think Armenia is a new haven for us.
Section 3. “Crossing” - lost in translation and the path of acceptance (on- and off-screen).
You shot most of your next movie, “The Crossing” (you can read our review here), not only in Georgia, but also in Turkey. I know that in both the Georgian and Turkish languages, there are no gendered pronouns like “he” or “she.” I watched the movie with English subtitles and noticed that the main character, Lia, going to Turkey to look for her niece Tekla, a trans girl, says, “Her name is Tekla” but in Georgian it sounds like “It calls itself Tekla.” This is an important point that I think is missed in the English or Russian translation, as it emphasizes not only the linguistic peculiarities but also the woman's reluctance to acknowledge her niece's changed gender.
Yeah, I included it in context when Lia is talking about Tekla, she really doesn't use the pronoun “she”, saying “they” or more specifically “it” in Georgian. At the beginning of the movie, she's really kind of still coming to terms with it. But I don't think that fact makes the point of the movie change significantly.
It reminded me of many older people in Russia, including my parents, who try to talk about, so to speak, “dangerous” aspects, including about queer people, as veiled as possible. It is as if, as long as it is not vocalised, it does not exist.
In Georgia and Turkey, there is also this pressure: “What will others think? If you are gay, lesbian, or a trans person, do whatever you want; the main thing is that no one knows.” It's horrible, and it leads to self-shame. I think you really touched upon the theme of "Crossing" and why I wanted to make this movie. For me, it's a message to another generation. When “And Then We Danced” came out, there was a discussion about the clash between the older and younger generations. But for me, it's not just “black and white.” Prejudice exists in every generation.
Again, Lia in “Crossing” is a character who has herself been marginalized by men and patriarchy. She is a teacher who has never been married, a different kind of woman. At the beginning of the film, Lia does not realize that her plight is similar to Tekla's. Tekla could not escape from her identity, unlike Leah. Eventually, Leah realizes that the struggle for the rights of queer people affects the women in their families as well. I notice how my sister and my mom look at their place in society differently, also because of my struggle against male hegemony. We all live under the pressure of patriarchy from a very young age, and for many queer people the only way out is to escape.
I have cousins who throw sort of “kid parties” and never invite me. Even though they're okay with me being gay, there's still a sense of differentiation. In “Crossing,” I touch on these thoughts, and it's with different characters. For example, Achi, the young man who helps this woman in Istanbul, is also a victim of this pressure. I didn't think about whether he identifies as queer, but he is under the oppression of an overbearing brother and has to be tougher too. He wants to escape because he doesn't fit in - and neither does Lia, and neither does the transactivist Evrim (Deniz Dumanli), and neither do the street children the characters meet. For me, capitalism and patriarchy are closely linked, and these children are victims of a society that has abandoned them. It's a disgrace to a society where children live on the streets.
You managed to create such real characters. In just 100 minutes of the movie, they become close and almost feel like family, making it even sad to say goodbye to them.
Thank you, Anton. I can even say that I miss them. They are so real, as if they live beyond the movie. In many ways, they do, because many of the trans women in the film are real. I met them during research, and I'm so glad I was able to capture them in all their beauty—the way they sing, the way they peel eggplants together. I love Evrim; she's a fantastic character. Someone should make a separate movie about each of them.
Yes, this could very well be a spin-off. I also think that “Crossing” would be good to watch with parents.
That was on purpose. I wanted to bridge the gap between people: “Listen, here's an ordinary woman who has a niece who identifies as a trans woman, and that's okay. We're all in the same boat.” Maybe someone will think about it after the movie and decide to call their queer relative or child.
There was a funny story on set. My mom has relatives in Turkey, and I don't know them very well. One day, I invited one of my cousins to come to the set as an extra. She had a lot of fun, by the way. At the end of the shooting day, she heard from our driver that we were having an end-of-shoot party. She asked, “Can I come?” I said, “Yeah, no problem,” but at the same time, I thought it might be a trap. She's a traditional Turkish lady; she doesn't wear a headscarf but is still religious, plus she doesn't drink alcohol, and I wasn't sure if she knew I was gay. We had only seen each other a few times when I was a child, and she never asked about it.
Anyway, she came with her husband, and there was a real queer party. But you know, they had so much fun, danced all night, and didn't want to leave. The next day, she called me and said, “Thank you for sharing this part of your life; it means a lot.” It was so touching that I almost wept. That's what I want to achieve with my movies: to show, even if it sounds banal, that we are all just people.
I know that also the performer of the role of Leah, Mzia Arabuli, like her character and your relative, has made her own journey to accepting the queer community behind the scenes. I'm wondering how she even decided to do such a movie then?
It was her daughter, who herself, although not a queer person, is an active supporter of the queer community. She convinced her mother that being filmed by a great director was a unique opportunity that should not be missed. Mzia, like many in Georgia, used to say: “I have nothing against it, just don't show it in public and everything will be fine”. However, by the end of the show she had already stated: “If anyone does anything bad to my guys, I'll kill this person.” There were many trans people working behind the scenes, including a transgender girl named Yasmin. She worked with the costumes and quickly became friends with Mzia. It was magical to watch their relationship grow stronger and stronger.
You made a movie about Georgia, with which you have a strong connection, and then Turkey, which also has many connections to it. Will your next movie be about Sweden, where you have spent most of your life?
I have a rather complicated relationship with Sweden. Unfortunately, I've never felt completely at home there. It's a homogeneous society that makes you feel like an outsider, and I think that's reflected in my movie as well. On top of that, the country is going through an existential crisis right now, but that's another story.
I'm working on two other movies: one script I wrote myself and the other is written by another, a totally fantastic author. It's a very personal story, and I don't think I could have written that script myself. I don't know which one of these movies I'll do first - it all depends on financing. My own script is very much about the themes we've been talking about, and the price people pay for their desires in the West. Of course, the story will be told from a queer perspective.
Levan, we will wait for your new movies for as long as it takes. Thank you very much for this interview.
It was a pleasure to talk to you too. I do interviews less and less often nowadays. But what you do is very important. So this is a very meaningful conversation for me.
ANTON ISIUKOV