Moving people, moving films

Even the most heartless among the population cannot have been drawn in by the suffering and hardships being felt by the Ukrainian people following the invasion of their sovereign land at the hands of Vladimir Putin and his Russian army. The sight of millions fleeing from their homes in search of safety is something that is very hard to watch without being emotionally affected.

Of course, there are, sadly, plenty of similar stories playing out in other areas of the world, some of which don’t get as much coverage on our screens as they deserve, but with this latest war taking place in Europe, there are connotations and connections to how WW2 began and one wonders what might happen next to those who are holding firm and remaining in their homeland.

Many filmmakers have attempted to tell poignant stories around the subject of refugees and forced migration, as well as tales that relate to economically fuelled movements of people, such as those of Oleg Sentsov and some have proven more successful (both in terms of commercial performance and critical acclaim) than others.

Here are my favourite five films of such genre, with very effective storytelling devices. They are listed in order of preference (my favourite ones at the top):

.

1. In This World (Michael Winterbottom, 2003):

From filmmaker Michael Winterbottom, this docudrama is so realistic that you’ll think that the footage comes from some stock video taken directly from the events that are being fictionalised.

The story follows two Afghan refugees traveling from a refugee camp in Pakistan and attempting to get to London. Winterbottom covers everything in a visceral way that makes what you are viewing almost seem like a documentary but is, in fact, a dramatisation. The choice of two non-professional actors in the lead roles was a stroke of genius as it adds realism to the piece.

The realistic nature of the subject matter makes it very tough viewing, especially when one of the two main characters suffocates to death in a shipping container, and the ending has an uplifting but surreal quality to it that in some ways mirrors the trials and tribulations that face the modern refugee experience.

In This World is also pictured at the top of this article.

.

2. District 9 (Neill Blomkamp, 2009):

Though this movie is strictly a science fiction film, it cleverly uses the aliens as a metaphor for the refugee experience, and though the film is a satirical take on the situation, it is also a very effective way to approach the topic.

The film helped launch the career of its director Neill Blomkamp and is a take on his take on the apartheid era in his native South Africa. It’s darkly comic but is also very moving when

it’s necessary, and the whole premise is cleverly put together, and the movie proved to be a box office success.

.

3. Hotel Rwanda (Terry George, 2005):

This 2004 release tells the true story of hotelier Paul Rusesabagina who attempted to save the lives of thousands of refugees during the Rwandan civil war in the mid-1990s. It’s a harrowing film that tells the story of genocide and political corruption, and it earned its lead, Don Cheadle, a much deserved Oscar nomination.

It shows how the outside world largely ignored the plight of millions in the country and how the UN largely watched on and were unable or unwilling to prevent the massacre of millions.

.

4. The Visitor (Tom McCarthy, 2006):

This indie film is something of a low-key look at two refugees looking to make a life for themselves in unfamiliar territory but is, interestingly, also a study of a local who seeks to assist them while going through something of an existential crisis.

The Visitor is something of a refreshing take on the subject of immigration. In the film, a college professor (excellently played by ever-reliable character actor Richard Jenkins) returns to his Manhattan apartment, which he hasn’t visited for some months on account of living ostensibly in Connecticut, to find a young couple living there.

He forms a close bond with the pair, and he gets to see how they seek to make a fresh start to their lives, having fled Syria, and this, in turn, helps him to see the meaning in his own.

.

5. In America (Jim Sheridan, 2003):

This touching drama is something of a biographical piece by Irish director/writer Jim Sheridan, based on his experiences of moving to New York from his native Ireland.

The movie charts the ups and downs of a young family, with outstanding performances by both Paddy Considine and Samantha Morton and their young children (played by Sarh and Emma Bolger), and the lives of those who live in their tenement block.

It received universal acclaim and led to Oscar nominations for Morton and Djimon Hounsou, who portrays a tortured artist who touches the family’s lives and shows us how a family deals with the upheaval of moving to a new world and the joys and heartaches that ensue.

The Flood

Wendy (Lena Headley) is an immigration officer whose task is to reject as many refugees as possible. She’s recognised amongst her colleagues for her ability to spot bogus asylum seekers, promptly and efficiently rejecting the more dubious applications. Through her interrogation, she must figure out whether Haile (Ivanno Jeremiah) is telling the truth, or if his alleged predicament is but a concoction of an opportunistic economic immigrant.

This refugee drama takes sides straight away by noting that 70 million people have been forcibly displaced around the planet, more than the population of the United Kingdom and Ireland combined. It’s as if the entire population of the British Isles was fleeing war or persecution. Wendy does not seem to concerned about these figures, instead searching for loopholes preventing her applicants from settling in the UK. Haile’s case is a very straightforward one: he lied in his application, he does not have any dependants and he attacked two police officer upon being found in the back of lorry that crossed the Channel. All of the odds are against him.

Despite the difficulties, Haile is kind and serene, even affectionate. He tells Wendy that she shares the name with his mother. An officer interjects: “now that’s a new one”, suggesting that he is not telling the truth. The Home Office assumes that applicants lie by default. That’s a sheer perversion of justice.

At first, Wendy is the epitome of heartlessness. The perfect bureaucrat in a world where kindness and altruism are becoming increasingly rare. Or even criminalised, such as in the US and also right here in Europe, particularly in Italy. Helping others has become a criminal offence punishable with a lengthy custodial sentence. Ironically, Haile is also being penalised because of his humanity and solidarity. He refused to kill a rebel in homeland Eritrea, and he’s now wanted for “treason”. His selflessness also shows on his journey from Calais to Dover, where he risked his own life in order to save other refugees concealed inside the same lorry.

While very audacious in its message of solidarity in a world increasingly xenophobic and intolerant, The Flood is very conservative in its format. The narrative is formulaic and sanatised. All the right moral questions are asked, and yet the story lacks a little rawness, such as in the Wolfgang Fischer’s far more riveting Styx (released earlier this year). Some of the most dramatic moments (including an armed altercation between refugees and a death) feel banal and contrived. Plus the story is very predictable. You will work out in the first five minutes that the coldhearted Wendy will gradually sympathise with Haile and eventually switch alliances, culminating is a very noble gesture that could cost her her job. She is undergoing a “car-crash” acrimonious divorce involving a child, and being constantly reminded of her frailties and vulnerabilities. As a consequence, she feels compassion.

The Flood is out on demand and also in cinemas across the UK on Friday, June 21st, and then on VoD (Curzon Home Cinema) the following Monday. The film’s release coincides with World Refugee Week. Curzon is working with the Human Rights Watch in order to promote awareness of true-life stories. Worth a viewing.

Amin

This is true working-class tale. It works well as both character portrait and social realist documentary. While timid and perhaps a little unassuming upon first glance, it slowly reveals potent political flavours underneath.

Amin (Moustapha Mbengue) works hard as a labourer in France to support his wife Aïcha (Mareme N’Diaye) and three children back in Senegal, whom he rarely goes back to see. Early scenes see him collect money to take back to his hometown, where he proudly donates to his childhood school. He is treated like a small hero. As the man who provides. He boldly promises his wife he will one day be back for good and they will live in the house they are building together. Yet Amin has already been in France nine years. The separation takes a heavy toll and nothing seems to change.

While a lesser director may set up France to be a place of wonder and opportunity and Senegal a land of hardship, Philippe Faucon doesn’t make things so easy. France may be a place where “if you have money, you have fun” — as one young man puts it — but this means nothing thanks to the weak economy, leading ordinary workers, immigrant or not, to get shafted in the process.

Through slow scenes carefully placed on top each other, Faucon portrays the passing of time and the missed opportunities that entails as an inevitability of poor working conditions, making Amin’s ambitions more and more of a faded dream. The strain of being apart means he barely remembers his children; at one point quietly surprised to learn that his youngest daughter has already grown old enough to have to cover her hair in line with Islamic tradition. One cannot blame him then, when single mother Gabrielle (Emmanuelle Devos) — suffering a bitter separation from her husband — invites him in for a cup of coffee, and he quietly obliges.

For Amin, to be an immigrant is to be always caught between two worlds, yet feel truly home in neither. He is neither weak nor strong, only a normal man with normal needs and vulnerabilities; excellently portrayed through glances and physical body language by Moustapha Mbengue. His relationship with the white housewife isn’t presented as a racial binary, but a chance of genuine connection between both characters — who are not as far apart as initially seems. A certain sense of tenderness is then teased out by Faucon, who is far more interested in who these people are than why they act in such a way, giving the film an uncommon depth for what is ostensibly such a simple tale. Slow on plot, its languorous mood allows us to dwell in the implications of every single act.

Supporting players, chorus-like, help to tease out the different shades of immigrant life. They are all linked together by the large dormitory they live in, a place where nothing ever seems to happen. At first seeming rather aimless, these elliptical digressions create a portrait of a world where times are tough and joy is fleeting. One Moroccan young man visits a French-Algerian prostitute but seemingly cannot perform when she doesn’t open up about her heritage (it’s still a French film after all, so of course sex is used as a metaphor for the immigrant experience). Another has lived in France most of his life, but finds out from his smart French daughter that his pension payments have amounted to almost nothing.

While this sounds all very sad on paper, Faucon has a way of making it all seem very matter-of-fact, making sure to point out the dignity of such people’s lives and their essential character through solid gestures and powerful dialogue beats. While not everyone is given such rounded portrayals — Gabrielle’s ex-husband and Amin’s brother feel like cartoon cutouts from lesser dramas — one senses that the 90 minute drama could go on for another hour and the film would only build in richness.

The flow of money is the true tissue between both worlds. Money (or the lack of it) makes (or doesn’t make) things happen, obliterating racial and geographical distance in the name of broader class difference. The need for capital escapes no one. For example, when Amin sends money home via Western Union, his scene is partnered with another woman transferring cash to Algeria.

It’s a simple contrast that hammers in the film’s central theme of how capitalism keeps families apart, regardless of anything else.

With simple doubling techniques such as these, interspersed with poetic interludes and broader fly-on-the-wall documentation, Amin has one foot in the arthouse and the other in the social realist school; leading to a conclusion that is both bittersweet and politically apt. A delicate balancing act, Faucon’s tale manages to pack a strong political punch while never seeping into didacticism. A small marvel.

Amin is out in cinemas on Friday, June 21st. Its release is timed to coincide with Refugee Week.