REVIEW: DVD Release: 13 Tzameti

Film: 13 Tzameti
Release date: 3rd April 2006
Certificate: 15
Running time: 93 mins
Director: Géla Babluani
Starring: George Babluani, Pascal Bongard, Aurélien Recoing, Fred Ulysse, Nicolas Pignon
Genre: Crime/Drama/Thriller
Studio: Revolver
Format: DVD
Country: France

This is the debut full-length feature from Georgian director Gela Babluani, who cast his younger brother, George Babluani, as the leading man in this harsh tale of dread and suspense - aptitude apparently runs in their blood.

George plays Sébastien, a 22-year-old impoverished immigrant from Georgia who lives and works in France. Sébastien takes jobs of general labour in an attempt to minimise his family’s poverty, but his life is evidently a dismal place to inhabit.

The film begins whilst Sébastien is working on the house of Jean-Francois Godon, who we simply see as an old man with a strange shuffle. Sébastien soon realises that all is not well in the Godon household during a bizarre instance where Godon collapses, only to have his wife refuse him medical aid as she slaps him in the face and forces him to get up and run. It turns out that Godon is a morphine addict. Sadly for Sébastien, Godon’s habit takes a turn for the worst, and his morphine-overdosed death means that he cannot pay Sébastien for his handiwork.

This is where it gets sadistic. The film’s former half is misleadingly sombre and downhearted, but the next part opens into a gaping wound of brutal absurdity. Sébastien discovers a secret game in which Godon was scheduled to participate - A game which could solve his money problems long term. And so Sébastien, fed by desperation and temptation, enters unknowingly into a situation darker than he could ever have imagined, darker even than straightforward murder. He finds himself in secluded French countryside, playing Russian roulette death games in a mansion full of callous and cold-blooded souls in search of sinister entertainment...


The title is pretty simple to decode, as ‘tzameti’ means ‘thirteen’ in Georgian, which refers to the thirteen participants in the Russian roulette game. Thirteen forearms point guns into the backs of their competitors’ heads, thirteen pistols fire, and the murdered players are out of the competition. Simple.

13 Tzameti is a colourless motion picture. It is not old, and its subject matter is not outdated. It is in black-and-white because it contains death, but it does not want to be gory; because it is bleak, but not uninviting; and because it is stylish, but not conceited. The film’s black-and-white texture means that all images are painted with shadows and expression. Smiles are almost obsolete for the entire feature, which allows ominous faces to mark the mood. Each frown extends down its bearer due to the source of light - cinematographer Tariel Meliava has managed to say a thousand words using just a well-placed spotlight.

Babluani has opted for plenty of close-up shots, projecting a constant sense of despair due to his brilliant selection of capable actors. Sébastien, in particular, shines with a powerful ability, faultlessly communicating the idea that he is utterly powerless in his circumstances. He allows the viewer to enter his world of hopeless terror, feeling the gun pointed at our own skull - our relief each time a death occurs that is not Sébastien’s.

The director grew up in his Georgian homeland at the time when the Soviet Union was collapsing, which indicates the sort of immorality that perpetually pollutes 13 Tzameti. His childhood introduction to a world doused in political violence has, however, brought us something different and unexpected. 13 Tzameti is executed with such elegance that it could easily be mistaken for the work of a classic and experienced filmmaker.


The black-and-white shadows, the stark realism within an outrageous story, the empathy drawn out of the viewer with the flicker of an eyebrow – this is what cinema should be made of. It’s good that we don’t really learn any information about the characters. It is somehow still very real, despite the inhumanity of the gamblers. There is no need for additional information; there is no need for a sequel. This is a perfectly boxed package, leaving the viewer disturbingly fulfilled. NM