Elene, 16, and her war-scarred family are drawn into a mass protest in Tbilisi that transforms the streets of the capital of Georgia into a battleground for freedom. But it also forces them to confront the conflicts that are already threatening to tear them apart.

Does this read like a synopsis for a fiction or a documentary film to you? Well, whatever answer you give, you are kind of right. Because this is not just any film. It is Tear Gas from Georgian writer-director Uta Beria (Negative Numbers). And it is a fiction film shot inside real demonstrations.

The movie will world premiere on Aug. 12 in the Filmmakers of the Present competition program of the 79th edition of the Locarno Film Festival.

At the International Film Festival Rotterdam’s IFFR Pro industry section, the project last year won two awards: the inaugural HBF Empowerment Award, worth €10,000 ($11,000), with the jury highlighting its urgent themes of freedom of expression and political tension, and the Outward Gaze Award, another €10,000 honor, from the PJLF Arts Fund.

Produced by Nino Chichua, Anna Khazaradze and Beria, and co-produced by Guillaume Dreyfus, Delphine Schmit, Daniel Tenné and Junus Baker, Tear Gas features a cast including Taisia Eradze, Mzia Arabuli, Gaga Shishinashvili, Kato Kalatozishvili and Boris Andronikashvili. The cinematographer is Goga Devdariani, while the editor is Nodar Nozadze.

The title has a deeper meaning. “Tear gas is a weapon created to disperse us, tear us apart, make us cry, and restrict our breathing,” highlights Beria. “But in reality, when you inhale it and panic takes over, you instinctively begin fighting for what is most precious to you.”

Tear gas is regularly used by police in Tbilisi to break up anti-government demonstrations that have taken place without interruption for more than 600 days. The reason is that protesters fear that the Republic of Georgia will continue following an authoritarian path similar to Russia’s, crushing their hopes and dreams of being another Western-style democracy that is a member of NATO and the EU.

One of the symbols of their fear and anger is the so-called Foreign Agents Law, often simply called “the Russia law” as it is seen as similar to one that Russian President Vladimir Putin had rubber-stamped to allow crackdowns on civil society.

Ahead of the film’s world premiere at Locarno, the filmmaker talked to THR about the genesis of Tear Gas, shooting inside actual anti-government demonstrations, which have now gone on for more than 600 days without interruption, and why the creative team feels the need to stand up for freedom of expression, no matter what the consequences may be.

Tear Gas took five years to make. “I wanted to make it faster, but it was not possible,” Beria tells THR. “The situation in Georgia is so difficult and tough, both when it comes to getting funding and because of stricter rules by the Georgian Film Center not to give money to people who don’t think the same way they do – that even starts feeling like censorship. My colleagues think that maybe my film is one of the last independent projects because the situation is very tough now.”

In fact, Beria shares that there is institutional pressure back home. The film got a contract with the Georgian National Film Center (GNFC) in December 2022, he says. “We delivered the first-stage accounting and audit on time, but the second stage of financing was never paid by the GNFC – we asked three times over 18 months and were never given a reason. Despite their efforts to hinder the production, we managed to complete the film. We cut the budget, raised the remaining funds ourselves and finished the film.”

After the GNFC became aware that the film was set to premiere at Locarno, “we received a threatening letter from them,” Beria tells THR. “They are not consenting to a public screening, and they refer to a financial sanction of 10 percent of the contract value.”

But the Locarno world premiere is on. “Our agreement with all filmmakers submitting work to the festival requires them to confirm that they hold the relevant rights to their film; this agreement was signed by the producer(s) of Tear Gas,” says Olly Osborne, the Locarno Film Festival’s chief communications officer, in a statement shared with THR. “Any dispute regarding financing or contractual obligations between the production and the Georgian National Film Center is a matter between those two parties. The world premiere of Tear Gas will take place as planned on 12, 13, and 14 August in Locarno.”

So, the Tear Gas team did get their film finished, but says it is now facing financial pressures. And shooting amid real-life demonstrations in the capital also proved a huge challenge.

“It was unpredictable,” Beria explains. “You go to shoot with a script for the actors. Usually, you have a plan. But in the demonstrations, we had a plan A, plan B, plan C, plan D. And there were days where we needed to think as the demonstration was going on to follow the flow.”

Asking the filmmaker if he felt a sense of danger is a rhetorical question. “Of course, it was very dangerous, and especially when the police were dispersing people with the use of tear gas, which happened almost every day,” Beria tells THR. “Sometimes they did not announce that they would start using tear gas. We were making sure that when this brutality was starting, the actors were in a safe place. But I, the camera crew, and my DOP would stay and continue shooting.”

How do you communicate amid the chaos of street protests? “Communication is very difficult in big demonstrations,” Beria shares. “We didn’t want to use walkie-talkies, because the authorities argue that the demonstrations are not spontaneous but are organized, and they have arrested people as organizers. So, we thought if the police see us with walkie-talkies, they will not ask us if we are making a film but assume we are organizers of the protests.”

Mobile phones then? Not really. “Phones were sometimes not working. I don’t know if it was because a lot of people using them overloaded the network or if the police were shutting it down,” the filmmaker says. “So my assistant director came up with a smart idea. We had short and long flags, and we were using these flags to see each other in the sea of people. People who watch the film will notice that we are shooting with a long lens at a great distance, and between the actors and us, there are thousands of people.”

That also affected his guidance for the cast walking around the demonstrations. “I told the actors that they should stay in their role, and they really did so for hours, in the state of the character,” Beria explains. “I told them that sometimes maybe they wouldn’t know when they were in the frame. So, this incredible magic was happening where we would lose the actors, and then we would find them again, and then lose them again. It was so pure, so authentic, so natural. We really fell in love with that.”

Does Beria not fear repercussions for making Tear Gas? “For me, this film was an act of resistance,” he tells THR. “Some of my friends and colleagues are in prison. I can’t free them. But I could put all of myself into this film.”

Asked if he thinks he will end up in prison as well, Beria says: “I don’t know. Let’s see. They don’t need a reason to put you into prison anymore in Georgia. There are so many good and innocent people in prison. I don’t know what to expect. They do what they want. I don’t know. I’m not going to hide so I don’t go to prison.”

The creative also emphasizes: “Every member of the crew showed remarkable bravery, and I couldn’t be more grateful for their commitment under such extraordinary circumstances.”

The filmmaker hopes that the film will make more people around the world aware of the situation in Georgia.

And Tear Gas seems like a powerful title to attract attention. “I love the process when you are thinking about a title,” Beria tells THR. “There were different titles before I had this idea for Tear Gas. Tear gas is a strange weapon. It’s created to disperse us, to tear us apart. But in reality, when you inhale it and the panic takes over, you start to instinctively fight for the things that are precious to us and fight to not lose each other.”

Concludes Beria: “This is the main thing that I want to say with this title. In reality, tear gas forces us to fight for each other and brings us together.”

SPOILER ALERT: The following reveals major plot points from the series finale of the Starz crime drama Power Book III: Raising Kanan.

It’s no spoiler to discuss Kanan Stark’s survival in the series finale of Starz’s Power Book III: Raising Kanan, with even the most casual of fans knowing that Kanan Stark is alive and well in the original Power series. While it’s the closing of another chapter in the Power franchise, there’s still some time to spend with Mekai Curtis as the titular Kanan before going into Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson’s era.

But before going into new business, let’s handle old business. Raquel (Patina Miller) was shot and killed in cold blood by Jukebox (Hailey Kilgore) in the show’s final episode. Raq was a surrogate mother to Juke, but when it came down to it, Juke had to avenge her father’s murder at the hands of Kanan. She told her cousin while at the diner that she had killed his mother so as to take everyone that cares about him out of his life. Kanan was rather accepting of the news, something the actor confirms.

“It’s acceptance. That’s the ultimate version of Kanan understanding what Raq taught him at the beginning of the series. Now, more than ever, in Season 5, I think Kanan understands who he is and what he’s done more than ever. When you’ve experienced enough loss and tragedy, there comes a point where you’re going to sit down and just take inventory: you’re going to see where you went wrong, what you did right, where other people went wrong, and how things could have been done differently,” shared Curtis.

Adding, “Kanan has gotten to have those moments. So, when he finally hears that Mom is gone, he understands. It doesn’t mean it hurts any less, but he understands all the bad he’s done. And for it to be his cousin when he just took out her father, it’s poetic, right? He understands, ‘Okay, I did it.’ It doesn’t mean that I’m proud that I did it, but I did it.”

Before that moment at the diner, Kanan and Raq met up on a very public street to discuss the hit Stefano (Tony Danza) put on her, amongst other things. The duo opened up like never before.

“I wasn’t sure that that was a conversation that was going to happen. So I was casting the line in the wind, ‘No, this is still my mother. I still love this person. These characters, this world, and this show could have been flat and stereotypical if we didn’t add these layers that have you ask questions beyond what you’re seeing. It was really fun to finally have that moment to justify the actions of all of the characters leading up to that, especially for me,” Curtis reflected.

He continued, “I feel like Kanan is so misunderstood, especially the younger version of him. You see he’s doing things out of emotion, and he doesn’t know how to articulate himself. But it’s not simply just to be doing it. It’s not simply to ignore the thoughts and the wisdom of the people around him. He’s simply trying to find himself outside of the things that he’s now been shown. He can’t trust in the way that he wants.”

Part of that, Curtis explained, was Kanan saying, “You did these things, and it hurt me, and I didn’t know how to say that it hurt me because I was never taught how. But I still love you.”

“It was a constant back and forth between Raq and Kanan showing or saying that they love each other, but missing the mark,” he said. “I think they both had different love languages, and they didn’t know how to come together and actually healthily do that until imminent death was in the air.”

Playing Kanan across 5 seasons as part of this crazy world of Southside, Jamaica, Queens, the lesson that the actor is taking with him is a pretty special one.

“The lesson is love for me. Not to get all preachy about it, but love is patient. It’s kind. It’s giving space when you need it. It’s letting that person come back when they’re ready. It’s ugly. It’s nasty, and that’s everything that you see happen with these characters on the show, but that’s also everything that’s happened behind the scenes,” said Curtis.

“I think there’s a rare level of vulnerability and safety that was fostered on this set that allowed us to translate with these characters even more. The lesson for me is: keep your heart open. Keep your heart guarded, but always be open and ready for the things that are around you. Be ready to receive, be ready to give,” he added.

Onto new business, Curtis has already completed work on the first season of the brand new prequel series Power: Origins, a continuation of Raising Kanan, both shows from creator Sascha Penn. Power: Origins will reunite young James St. Patrick (Spence Moore II) and young Tommy Egan (Charlie Mann) with young Kanan. As a quick reminder, teen versions of James and Tommy appeared in the finale of Raising Kanan, played by Maxwell Davis and Andrew Bennett, respectively. At about 13 years old, the boys tried to work with Kanan, but even he had his limits.

“That honestly is my favorite part because that is the crossroads that carries through into Origins. You can still see a slight shred of care. Kanan sees himself in these two kids, and while it is exciting, he’s like, “Oh, we can get into all the things.’ It’s still like, ‘Nah, they’re still too young. I’m not gonna be the person that exposes you to whatever is going to bring you back here. We get to see how he still kind of cares and nurtures them in Origins.”