Georgia: TV Report of Russian Invasion is a Show-Stopper at Tbilisi Theater

The actors performing Shakespeare's Twelfth Night at Tbilisi's Rustaveli Theatre on March 13 at first tried to ignore the whispers in the audience that began just as the curtain went up. But 10 minutes into the performance, spectator emotions about an Imedi TV report that Russia had invaded Georgia and toppled President Mikheil Saakashvili overtook the drama on stage.

One woman screamed into her cell phone, jumped to her feet and lumbered out of the hall. A train of spectators soon followed, all of them scurrying for the exit. Bewildered actors were left wondering about the cause of the interruption.

"Let's take off! Didn't you hear what they said? The Russian army is approaching!" a middle-aged woman declared, yanking at her male companion.

That did it for actor Zaza Papuashvili. Turning to the audience, Papuashvili, who was appearing in the role of Countess Olivia's sullen steward Malvolio, asked spectators what "in hell" was going on.

"They say the Russian army has invaded, and they killed Misha [President Saakashvili]," a voice cried out.

The buzz intensified. One woman broke into tears. Some audience members started calling their friends and relatives; others used their cell phones to browse the Internet for news.

When news surfaced that a battle was allegedly going on between the Russian and Georgian armies outside Tbilisi, audience members considered a fresh plan of action -- finding weapons to go help the Georgian army fend off the invaders.

Not everyone wanted to stay for the fight, however. One man called a friend in neighboring Azerbaijan to ask if it would cause too much inconvenience if he, his wife, children and mother-in-law could spend the night at the friend's Baku residence, some 550 kilometers away. A man seated next to the caller questioned why he was taking his mother-in-law along. "This is your once-in-a-lifetime chance to get rid of her," the man said, in response to muffled laughs.

A lone spectator cautioned that if Tbilisi was under attack, "we probably would hear it." He urged the audience not to panic at television claims.

But under the circumstances, reason stood little chance of restraining rampant emotion.

"What other proof do you want?" a woman's bitter voice hit back. "You want to wait until Russian soldiers waltz in and do a Cossack dance for you on this stage?"

In the end, the reported invasion proved to be a hoax, but angered audience members are intent on getting the last word -- they have demanded a full refund for their tickets.