Monday, August 29, 2011

Power Trip

Electricity is connected to hope. No electricity leads to insecurity, humiliation and vulnerability. These are some of the main sentiments in Paul Devlin's documentary "Power Trip," detailing the struggles of the company AES providing electricity to the Republic of Georgia in the post-Soviet Union era.

But for many Americans, perhaps this is a bit difficult to understand. Historian Robert Caro slept outside one night in rural Texas to help him understand just how much electricity meant to pre-electrification America. The United States has never had to deal with a strenuous shift from communism to capitalism, like Georgia has. Georgia, however, still is a developing nation with its citizens on monthly salaries of less than a hundred U.S. dollars. Americans are hurting, but everyone still finds it necessary to use air conditioning, regardless of the fact that air conditioning tricks your body into thinking it's hotter outside, produces greenhouse gas emissions which increases global temperature, and regardless of how expensive it is (not to mention the risk to one's health). Americans take electricity for granted. As I type, I am not under a deadline to finish this before the power goes out.

Film critics are told to leave all ideology, religion and prejudices behind when they view a film, but that doesn't mean they can't allow nostalgia to influence their reaction to viewing a film. For me, watching "Power Trip" reminded me of my time teaching and living in Georgia. I was happily reminded of numerous things: their love of home-made wine, the powerful choruses heard throughout the country and this film, and their proud tradition of hospitality but also suspicion: the giant statue of Mother Georgia in the capital, Tbilisi, holding a bowl for greeting guests and a sword for fighting off enemies, something they've had to deal with for centuries. Georgians are the best dancers in the world, and we get to see some of that. But it also reminded me of the suffering. A two minute walk from our school stood a decaying tea factory. It provided me with some interesting exploring and bat-viewing, but reminded me of the countless other decaying buildings around the country. Once on a trip to the Black Sea, a friend and I could only spot falling-apart buildings; there was also a random cow tied up, and my friend declared it the city's petting zoo.

The film begins about ten years after Georgia declared independence from the Soviet Union. An American energy company named AES has purchased Telasi, the Georgia energy company. But AES discovers just how difficult the job is: they're dealing with people unaccustomed to paying for electricity and having it turned off if it isn't payed for, and with a population making an average salary of fifteen dollars, trying to pay twenty-five dollars for electricity is basically impossible. The company finds that ninety percent of its customers aren't paying their bills, and so ninety percent have their power cut off. When the Americans came, Georgians expected they would have electricity twenty-four hours a day; now, however, AES is running an unsustainable business. It's as if the terrible things the Soviets told Georgians about Americans are coming true. "I don't trust the Americans!" an angry Georgian shouts.

The aggressive tactics might be a bit difficult for Western audiences to reconcile. In one case, we are told of electricity being cut for the airport just as a plane was about to land; the money was paid immediately. But in another, an old man says that he and the other members of his family have disabilities and cannot afford to pay for his electricity. He is told that he will not receive an exemption and must pay like everyone else. The man who tells him this is the company's manager, a British man who always arches his eyebrow, which is mocked by cartoons and teenagers alike.

Like "Capturing the Friedmans," "Power Trip" does not tell you what to think or even how to think. It provides just the facts, or more often just the emotions. An audience might feel anger at the corruption depicted or sympathy for Georgians without electricity, but they're not explicitly motivated to do so. Part of the reason I liked the movie was because of my time there, but those who have never heard of the country will likely also be captivated by its themes. There is a mystery to Georgia, and "Power Trip" explores it.

Have things improved? I would, having lived there almost a decade after "Power Trip" was released, say that it has. The film was released just before the Rose Revolution, which forced President Eduard Shevardnadze out of office. The power at my host family's home would go out probably once or twice every other day. The power was next to my room, so I usually climbed up to press the white button to turn it back on. Sometimes it didn't turn back on, and my host father would have to play with it, his cigarette dangling from his mouth. Sometimes it went off because we were using too much power, so we'd have to unplug appliances (usually the water heater) and sometimes it went off for some other reason, but considering the village I lived in was so rural it didn't have indoor plumbing, I think it's remarkable that we had that much electricity. I wonder what Georgians would make of "Power Trip."

One last thing about Georgia and electricity. The film details many Georgians illegally connecting their electricity. When I was in Georgia, an older woman was cutting the electrical wires to sell, and accidentally cut the wrong switch. The result: the entire country of neighboring Armenia was without internet. My Western friends and I never heard anything else about her, but we partly suspect she's in prison.

0 comments:

Post a Comment