In Adam’s Tooth, which won a Most Promising European Project prize at Ji.hlava IDFF, two Georgian archaeologists find a 1.8 million year old tooth, as well as the ancient skeleton of a wolf. But the Minister of Culture “arrests” the tooth, and bans any further digging, forcing the archaeologists to make a last-ditch attempt to free the artefacts Ministry’s grip. The film is co-directed by Mariam Chachia and Nik Voigt.
“Adam’s Tooth is a film told in three acts – the past, the present, and the future,” Voigt told the professional audience at Ji.hlava. “It explores how each of us builds our own stage in the theatre of life to become heroes of our own story.”
“The first act, the past, unfolds in a misty valley in Georgia. Two archaeologists and a stray dog stage protest, demanding the release of a 1.8 million-year-old tooth that the government has quite literally arrested,” he continued. “What begins as protest turns into absurd theatre. A surreal performance in which meaning and futility blur. The tooth becomes a prop, showing how power tries to control even the story of our origins. Passers-by wander into frame and join the performance.”
The second act, the present, opens with laughter and music, he adds. One of the film’s core protagonists, Acho, who survived a 20-metre tree falling on him, stages his own funeral feast to celebrate his second life. In a hall with white curtains and long tables, grief transforms into joy. “Through Acho, the film celebrates our ability to turn life into a performance,” said Voigt.
“The third act, the future, belongs to children, the true masters of play,” the co-director continued. “Through their play, we observe how imagination itself is an act of manifestation, the stage where a child’s fantasy opens a curtain to the future. Though Adam’s Tooth begins with archaeology, it’s really about human existence. [It’s] about time, absurdity, and the freedom to act within the limits of our own stage.”
“Ultimately, Adam’s Tooth is a reflection on how we can reclaim agency. How even in absurd times, we can take the lead role and act out change on our own stage.”
The film is made against a backdrop of much dissatisfaction within the film community, many of whom believe the Georgian Film Centre to be an instrument of the state (which is itself governed by the Georgian Dream party). “Not everything you see in this film is what it seems — and what you do see, you might wonder: is this a dream or reality? But who cares? Our dreams are what make us human, and being human is exactly what this film is about,” the filmmakers say in their Ji.hlava IDFF notes.
“Let’s start in 2021. Georgia got a new Minister of Culture: Thea Tsulukiani. Before invading culture, Thea had already mastered destruction as Minister of Justice — losing about 20 court cases against her own employees and leaving behind a justice system in ruins. Naturally, she was promoted. Culture awaited — the perfect ground to prepare for the dictatorship that would follow in 2024.”
“Thea is the invisible character of this film. Everyone talks about her, but we never see her. Like the skeleton of a 1.8 million-year-old wolf lying hidden under Orozmani’s soil — untouchable, unseen, but always there.”
Awarding the Most Promising European Project award during Ji.hlava IDFF, the jury noted: “So many of us in different countries are experiencing absurd and cruel political systems infringing on individual liberties and our most basic human rights. With a cinematic lens and a wry humorous tone, this film is emblematic of a ‘creative resistance’ to the institutional injustice of the Georgian nightmare.”
Self-financed to date, the filmmakers are now ready to welcome “a new partner” on board, said producer Georgian Tekla Machavariani. “We are planning to shoot the second and third part in spring-summer 2026, and we are really much looking forward to production money, but most importantly, a partner, a courageous partner, who is ready to work with the filmmakers who are under very big repressions, but still…continue their storytelling.”
