IN MEMORY OF YURA TSEVI (JUNE 10, 1954 – DECEMBER 16, 2024)
THE “STALKER” OF TORONTO, HALF-RUSSIAN, HALF-GEORGIAN, SINGING IN YIDDISH. YUROCHKA.
JOHN THE BAPTIST AND JESUS CHRIST. AN ARTIST.
The website and the text on this page were written as a synopsis for our film about Yura Tsevi, Yuri Tsivtsivadze, whose story we began capturing in 2015. On December 16, 2024, Yura passed away. Yet, we want to preserve his memory—of our shared work (filmmaking is always a collaborative effort between the crew and the protagonist), of our meetings, jokes, arguments, celebrations, and late-night chats in the messenger. Even when filming ends, months of working with the material follow, during which it feels like you know your protagonist inside and out. Their intonations, laughter, facial expressions, and favorite phrases all become a part of you. I am grateful that in the end, there is a film—a living person whom one can feel and understand. One day, Yura’s grandson will be able to discover his grandfather when he grows up.
We met completely by chance—we decided to give our son a birthday gift in the form of a tour around Ontario.
“It’s my birthday too,” said the guide. And off we went. For a whole day. And from then on, we never really parted, occasionally crossing paths in the bustling life of immigrants.
We invited him to Gregory’s program, Hour of Interview. He came with posters. Editing followed. I delved into his archive—photos, videos, funny stories: Parajanov, the camel, little Asya...
Then he fell ill again.
“Yura, how about we make a film about you? To make it less miserable being sick.” We filmed. We pulled him out of depression, sank into it ourselves, Yura got worse, a dialysis machine stood in his home, we waited for a transplant...
I finished editing the film, and suddenly—a miracle, literally the next day:
“They’ve called me for surgery,” as if someone above had watched the film and said, “Let him live a little longer.”
And Yura lived...
Tbilisi. Filming a movie about Giya Kancheli.
“Give me the address of Parajanov’s house, where you stood on the porch with little Asya.”
Searching for the street where he lived with his grandmother. The window of the room on the first floor.
The courtyard like a well...
And another meeting. A hundred-dollar bill as a birthday gift for my teenage son:
“This is for your debauchery.”
And one day, he suddenly felt wistful:
“Who is all this for?”—nodding at the paintings, collages, the enormous tree by the balcony, mustache cups, photographs, posters...
“Oh, Yura, don’t say that! I have a role for you! I want you to sing.”
“Really? What should I sing?” “Whatever you want.”
We filmed again... Yura composed, stepped into his role, crafted, commanded, got angry, invented, argued, bristled, quarreled (he did have a director’s education, after all). We parted ways. And rejoiced upon meeting again.
“How’s Asya?” “Not great...”
Then, suddenly, he had a dream... A call from Asya.
“I know.” “How?”
“I saw it in a dream.”
A grandson! “All my dreams have come true!” He was so happy and grateful to Asya!...
The last time we saw him was at a meeting with Muratov. Just a little more health to keep going...
That was the last thing he did in life. He looked at Asya’s Instagram... That was it. And such a void inside.
Olga and Gregory Antimony
FILM SYNOPSIS: "IN FANTASY I WILL BE BATHED IN TEARS"
Our film is an incredible story about kindness and betrayal, love and indifference, and a talented man forced by circumstances to change everything: his profession, country, way of life, and family. To almost die and yet return to life. To lose everything but preserve faith in himself and the people around him.
Our protagonist was born in Georgia when it was still one of the republics of the USSR.
He barely remembers his Georgian father; he was raised by his mother, who was Russian by nationality. But living in Tbilisi and not absorbing the wonderful traits characteristic of this nation is probably impossible. This is why our protagonist so deeply values friendship, a good company at the table, and humor. But his main virtue is his ability to attract people of all kinds.
After finishing school, he moves to Moscow and enrolls in one of the country’s best theater institutes. Upon graduating, he unexpectedly receives an invitation to join the newly opened Jewish Musical Theater.
For the USSR of the late 1970s, this was an entirely unique theater. After Stalin’s repressions and the complete destruction of Jewish culture, a theater emerged where actors spoke and sang in Yiddish from the stage. Of course, to some extent, it was a propaganda project, but the people who created this theater were truly exceptional. They had to combine the cunning and adaptability of diplomats when dealing with party officials while simultaneously reviving Jewish culture, which had seemed utterly lost in the USSR over many years.
The theater became famous. Tickets were impossible to get, with tours across the country and abroad, growing renown, and popularity. Despite not being Jewish, our protagonist learned a great deal: he began speaking Yiddish, mastered Jewish mannerisms, gestures, laughing, crying, and, most importantly—he began to sing. He had a remarkable voice and became one of the theater's lead soloists.
After a few years, it was time to try something new. He was invited to play the role of Jesus Christ in the rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar. Perestroika was underway in the USSR, everything was changing, the "Iron Curtain" was crumbling, and it became possible to stage this iconic rock opera in one of Moscow's popular theaters.
But hard times followed: the Soviet Union collapsed, and people lost interest in theater. Films were barely being made. To survive, actors had to form small troupes, work with producers, or even arrange tours on their own.
Our protagonist joined one such troupe. They traveled across Russia with a single play, performing in different cities and on different stages. Then, unexpectedly, they received an invitation to tour Canada. It was sensational: the chance to cross the ocean for the first time, meet new people, and finally earn money in real currency!
They arrived in Toronto full of hope, eager to showcase their talents, but suddenly… they were informed that the company that had invited them had gone bankrupt and was withdrawing all responsibility for their stay in Canada.
It was a real shock. In a foreign country, without speaking English, without money, and with no idea what to do next. The Russian Embassy told them there was nothing they could do to help. The next day, the hotel administration evicted them.
"Fifty actors and dancers were thrown out onto the street. We’re sitting in the theater without our belongings, which are locked in unpaid rooms. The news is showing a report about Russian actors with nowhere to live or eat. The Embassy didn’t lift a finger—they said it wasn’t their problem. Just like always..."
Only a miracle could save them—and it happened.
Cars began arriving at the hotel, and a translator appeared, explaining that local TV had reported on their dire situation. Canadians, the residents of Toronto, decided to help the stranded Russian actors and offered to host them in their homes until their fate became clearer.
It was incredible! In the USSR, they were always taught that in the West, "man is a wolf to man," and people only cared about money and personal gain. And yet, here was something completely different...
A Canadian family took in our protagonist, but a new challenge awaited him. He became gravely ill, hovering on the brink of life and death. He was admitted to the hospital, and his friends did everything they could to save him. His plight caught the attention of the Canadian government, and by decision of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, his wife was allowed to join him in Canada. Their daughter stayed with her grandmother in Moscow for two years.
When he regained consciousness, another blow awaited him: he could no longer sing. His career as an actor was over.
"I was diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disease called Wegener’s granulomatosis. As an exception, I was admitted to a hospital by order of Canada’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, but I technically ‘died’ on the second day—spent a month in a coma. They saved me, but the tube in my throat damaged my vocal cords, so my singing career was over. No one around, no one to care. It was terrifying. My wife was brought to Canada by the actors' union. There I was in the hospital, weighing just 40 kilograms, unable to speak, my hair gone after chemo... Should I keep describing it? In short, I survived."
He had to rebuild his life: learn the language, acquire a new profession, and support his family. Returning to Russia was not an option—only in Canada could his condition be managed with unique medical treatments.
New acquaintances appeared in his life, one of whom took him into their bakery. There, he learned how to bake cookies. The most important thing was that he was alive, and he was determined to overcome everything.
Then, yet another blow struck: his wife left him. His young daughter made a courageous decision—to stay with her father.
She became his main source of motivation in his struggle. He raised her alone, fed and clothed her, took her to school, and, most importantly, taught her to sing. She had to achieve what he could no longer do. His daughter was to become a singer and take the stage, just as he once had.
Our protagonist tried many things in his immigrant life, and then, quite unexpectedly, he found a calling that became his new profession—leading tours, which gradually gained popularity for one simple reason: he fell in love with Toronto and got to know it better than many who had lived there their entire lives.
Add to this his natural humor and warm generosity, and it’s clear why people remember their trips with him for a long time. Perhaps our viewers will remember him, too.
"I hope my one-day tours in my minivan bring joy to all travelers who want to see and hear about Niagara Falls, taste Ontario wines at a winery, visit the Curve Lake First Nations Reserve, admire the beauty of the Saint Lawrence River, and explore Petroglyphs Park—a sacred place for local Indigenous peoples, home to a stone with carvings that remain an unsolved message from Canada’s ancient inhabitants.
‘Do your work and know yourself,’ Socrates said. This principle guides my life and work. In my current profession, I am my own director, screenwriter, actor, and even critic. When people ask how my company differs from others, I have a straightforward answer to this tricky question—my individuality as a guide. When someone is on a tour with me, they’ll spend between 4 and 12 hours together with me. Sometimes, we can’t stand someone for even an hour, but if people keep coming back, recommending me to their friends and relatives, it means I am objectively doing my job at a high professional and ethical level."