Darkness Falls

Princeton native Paul Devlin takes a look at why the lights went out on the other side of the world in ‘Power Trip.’

By: Ilene Dube

At a high-rise development outside Tbilisi, abandoned after the collapse of the Soviet Union, squatters have taken over, hooking up their own electricity.

   Tbilisi, capital of the former Soviet Republic of Georgia, is sometimes called "Little Paris." Founded in the fifth century and occupied by Persians, Arabs and Turks, it is today an important industrial and transport center. Surrounded by majestic mountains, its historical monuments and fortresses attract the attention of tourists.
   Fashionably dressed women, modern cars with luxury features and contemporary housing can be seen along its streets. In cafés, intelligentsia enshrouded with smoke discuss politics. In summer, when the snow melts, clothing strips down to sunglasses and swimsuits as people lounge around Olympic-sized pools.
   Yet Tbilisi is in the dark. Among its largely educated populace (1,225,000), professionals sit around expensive computer equipment that can’t be turned on, and elderly folk rock in chairs facing blank TV screens. Amid civic unrest, the power shortage is holding back Tbilisi’s economic growth.
   Princeton native Paul Devlin, 41, took several month-long trips to Georgia over a two-and-a-half-year period to film Power Trip, a documentary showing how an American power company tries to keep the lights on despite corruption, assassinations, massive theft and inflamed tempers. It airs Jan. 25 on PBS’ Emmy-winning Independent Lens series, hosted by Susan Sarandon.
   Mr. Devlin, who has won 5 Emmy Awards for his work with NBC Sports on the Olympics and CBS Sports on the Tour de France, as well as awards for SlamNation, The Eyes of St. Anthony, Slammin’ and Freestyle — The Art of Rhyme, first learned about the situation in Tbilisi from Piers Lewis, a close friend from the University of Michigan. Mr. Lewis, who looks like an old hippie, is the "star" of the documentary. An engaging character, as are many of the people interviewed in Power Trip, with hair that keeps growing and growing, Mr. Lewis is a manager for AES-Telasi, the multinational power company in Tbilisi.
   "I took a long vacation after ‘SlamNation’ and met Piers in Turkey," says Mr. Devlin. "He’d been talking (about the power situation in Tbilisi) and invited me to visit in 1999. I’d always taken advantage of his remote location to see interesting places and he talked me into doing the film. Nobody was paying attention to what was going on in post-Soviet Georgia at the time."
   On the surface the story is about power, but the film also depicts the mystery and magic of Tbilisi, from its ancient stone architecture, sculpture, friezes and frescoes, and snow-covered alps to its ancient traditions of folk dancing, music (it is worth seeing ‘Power Trip’ for the Georgian folk music alone), colorful costumes and white-bearded faces whose lines tell a story of endurance.
   "It’s a polyglot nexus," Mr. Lewis says in the film.
   In 1991, after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Georgia achieved its independence along with civil wars and economic devastation. In 1999, the American AES Corp. bought Telasi, the Georgian electricity distribution company. During the Soviet era, gas, water and electricity were paid for by the government. Viewing AES-Telasi as "the Americans," the Georgians at first believed their power problems were solved; they were counting on the multinational to keep the lights on. Only 10 percent of the Georgians paid their electric bills, because they were accustomed to getting power for free.
   The average electric bill is $24 month, but with monthly salaries ranging from $15 to $75, most cannot afford to pay it. When the bills were not paid, the power company simply stopped service.
   "People have lost hope with the loss of electricity," says Leeka Basilaia, a Georgian investigative journalist interviewed in the film. Speaking from her dimly lit, Soviet-style minimalist kitchen, she says "You feel so insecure when the light goes off." Cut to a high-rise at night that suddenly goes black. Cut to a ski trip in the beautiful snow-covered alps, where there is no electricity to power the lift. Those who can afford it take helicopters to the top.
   Although Mr. Devlin stayed with Mr. Lewis and relied on his power source, he worried about recharging his batteries while filming. "It was mid-winter, cold and dark, and I felt a heavy somberness coming over the city," says Mr. Devlin, whose parents — a school psychologist and a physics professor at Rutgers — live in North Brunswick. "It’s hard to not get depressed, alone for three to four weeks, when it’s cold and dark and you can’t get your shots and you’re spending all your money, and you have to convey the darkness (without showing a dark black screen)."
   The film was self-financed because "a movie about power in the former Soviet Republic is hard to get money for," admits the filmmaker. Power Trip has gone on to win top prizes at the 2003 Berlin and Florida film festivals.
   At first, Mr. Devlin expected his sympathies to be with the Georgians who suffered in the dark, but as he came to understand the situation, he learned it was more complex, that AES’ motivation was deeper that profit. AES cofounder Dennis Bakke talks about the mission to serve the world with safe, clean, sustainable power, and he espouses a decentralized management philosophy in which "the guy doing the wiring knows best, so empower him to make the decision," says Mr. Devlin.
   AES spent $35 million to purchase Telasi, and after 16 months of operation, was losing $120,000 per day. The business was not sustainable with only a 10 percent collection rate. When the power company turned off the electricity, almost half the population responded by hooking up their own power lines from a neighbor, a basement, whatever source could be found. Well-educated, underemployed citizens invented clever devices to siphon off power.
   "We have no hot water, no TV — what do these Americans care?" says one man interviewed. "They have hot water and power because they can afford to pay."
   "We don’t have money and we won’t pay but we want power," chant the protestors in the street. Some call the Americans "occupiers." "I don’t trust them; they’re conquering us little by little," says an older man in the marketplace, raised to be distrustful of the United States. "We’ve had it up to here."
   AES spent more than $60 million remetering Tbilisi and building customer relations. Then, in 2001, following the Enron scandal, stockholders pressured AES to leave Georgia. By 2002, AES had spent $190 million in Georgia with zero return. Dennis Bakke resigned as CEO and AES sold Telasi to the Russian state-owned United Energy Systems. The CFO of Telasi was murdered in his home.
   Even after the credits roll on Power Trip, the blackouts continue. "The whole country had to shut down a few days because of a malfunction," says Mr. Devlin. "They’re not even using AES technology — they’re going back to the abacus."
   Would Mr. Devlin ever return to Tbilisi? "You wind up forever connected to the people in places you’ve filmed," he says.
   Last year, during Power Trip’s premiere screening in a Tbilisi hotel, the lights, fittingly, went out.
Power Trip by Paul Devlin will air on Channel 13/WNET New York Jan. 25, 10 p.m., and Channel 12/WHYY Philadelphia Jan. 30, 11 p.m. On the Web: www.pbs.org/powertrip