The broadcast asks: “why do women become surrogate mothers in Georgia? What’s the main reason?”. It also provides us with an answer: “social and economic problems, obviously”. Ketevan Vashagashvili’s documentary portrays one such mother from Georgia. In a short introduction, the director recounts how she met single mother Zhana more than a decade earlier. while making a short film. Back then, young Zhana lived on the streets of Tbilisi with her four-year-old daughter Elene. She claims that they have been friends ever since.

Over the course of the documentary, the director shows Zhana’s experience with two surrogate pregnancies. Zhana takes one surrogate agency to court, and applies for government housing. Both attempts are unsuccessful. This course of events would leave plenty of room for objective insight into Zhana’s situation and surrogacy in Georgia. But 9-Month Contract lacks context, and reliable information sources. The director never talks to experts, agency representatives, other surrogates or parents. This is a film devoid of nuance..

If there is some trust established between the director and her subject, it doesn’t translate on screen. Zhana comes across as one-dimensional and pitiful, and avoids talking about herself. The camera moves like an invisible intruder through the life of the 29-year-old. When the film introduces Zhana in present day, she is already near the end of her surrogacy. It remains unclear how she started this work, how many surrogacies she had, for which agencies she worked, her legal rights, etc. One of the few established facts is that Zhana gets 14.000 dollars remuneration. But her economic position is still dire. What happened to the money from previous surrogacies? Vashagashvili never interrogates her friend/subject.

Handheld camera images without soundtrack suggest straightforward objectivity. On the other hand, the focus on legal disputes and bodily discomfort reveal a certain selectivism, a voyeuristic (and perhaps exploitative?) interest in Zhana’s pain – physical and emotional. At times, Zhana appears embarrassed by the presence of her director “friend” and the camera. As a result, she doesn’t always open us. When she is hospitalised, Zhana tells Elene (now aged 16) repeatedly and tearfully: “I’m only doing this for you!”. Audiences are left to guess the exact nature of the events that led her there.

That’s some heavy guilt tripping here. Elene’s suffering is very palpable. She studies hard in order to fulfil her mother’s vicarious dream of becoming a lawyer. The director never addresses the constant psychological pressure to which she is subjected. Vashagashvili takes part in the emotional manipulation. She milks the dynamic between mother and daughter for maximum sentimentality. Teary close-ups of Zhana and Elene help to establish the pathos. Their affected protestations of love and sacrifice ring hollow and feel strangely scripted. They feel sadly adequate for a film that looks down on surrogacy instead of looking at it.

At the end of the documentary, Zhana is as much a stranger as in the beginning, and audiences have grasped very little about surrogacy in Georgia. Vashagashvili’s documentary does little to challenge the taboo it set out to bust.

9-Month Contract just premiered at CPH:DOX.