One
of the most fundamental physical truths of the universe is that all things are
forever in motion. Every particle of
every star and every rock has been moving for 13 billion years, and will continue
moving for untold billions more. And as
it is with the universe we are part and parcel of, so it is with humanity,
whose history is nothing more than the story of constant movement, of peoples
forming and disbanding, and forever migrating from one corner of the globe to
the other. As long as humans exist, we
will need to continue to move and forge ever-newer identities. This basic truth is as impossible to stop as
the gravitational trajectories of the galaxies.
We are human, and to be human is to move.
And
yet, this primary truth is always shadowed by a second; as we perpetually move,
there will perpetually be those who seek to deny this reality and to keep it at
bay, no matter the cost. They will insist
that human affairs are something settled and separate from the rules of the
larger world around them. That the
identities of the now are forever fixed and must be maintained, no matter what.
There’s a funny thing, though, about
reality. It has never and will never
need our approval to be what it is. The
stars will move whether or not you accept their existence, and human beings
will move when the times demand it, no matter how much the Trumps of the world
will seek to prevent it.
The
spike in numbers of people fleeing to Europe, primarily to escape ISIS, in
2014-2015 was, for most, the first time they woke up to what had already been a
growing, global refugee crisis for several years. We currently have over 65 million people (and
counting!) displaced from their homes and countries of origin through violence,
famine, oppression, and other calamities, the largest number since World War
II.
While
more and more filmmakers are beginning to tackle this massive issue in their
work, Chinese artist and human rights symbol Ai Weiwei is the first to try and
take a truly global approach with his new and masterful documentary, Human Flow. He begins on the coastline of Greece with the
arrival of a fresh boat of migrants seeking asylum in Europe. From there, he hops across the globe to
various hotspots of the refugee crisis, examining some of the varied
circumstances, both man-made and natural, driving these people from their homes
to seek their futures elsewhere.
Weiwei
himself is often on screen with members of his crew. We see him interact plenty with many of the
people he travels with. But his presence
is minimal; he’s here to, as much as possible, put faces and images to the news
stories so many around the world have willfully ignored or misrepresented for
cheap political gain. There are a few
talking heads here and there to provide better context for the current refugee
situation, as well as scrawls of news articles published during the height of
the migration to Europe a few years ago.
But for the most part, we just see people.
It
is a beautifully shot film. There is
extensive use of drone footage to provide big-picture images of the massive
sprawl of many refugee camps around the world, with thin, temporary shelters
stretching out for miles across barren landscapes. Often, the camera hovers over the camps just high
enough that the huge numbers of people in them seem as scurrying ants,
individually tiny, but collectively conveying a powerful sense of immense
momentum of human motion and the futility of trying to hold it all back. These moments are simultaneously the most
stunning and the most terrifying of the entire film.
One
of the most important moments, however, is a sequence focused on Africa that
reminds us that a growing proportion of the world’s refugees are climate
refugees, forced to abandon their homes because the various effects of man-made
global warming are slowly making more and more of the world genuinely
uninhabitable. This will be one of the
most consequential issues we face in the coming decades if global policy
towards climate change does not undergo an even more massive shift. It will rely on ALL nations, not just the US
or EU, radically reconsidering their policies towards the climate and towards refugees
to prevent future waves of forced migration that will make the current
situation appear tame by comparison.
This
is a staggering, overwhelming film in its scope and ambitions. It may well be said by some that the film
stretches itself too thin, and by trying to include at least a little bit on
every major hotspot of the global refugee crisis, it deprives itself of depth
that could make it more impactful for some audiences. However, I found this to be a rather fitting
approach, because, in a way, the movie simply couldn’t be any other way and still have the power it does. The film is vast, sprawling, overwhelming,
and a touch unfocused because it’s subject matter is vast, sprawling, and
overwhelming, and defies all easy explanations or solutions. There is no easy way through this hell we
have made for ourselves; just a lot of really, really hard work.
By
often just letting us look at this rainbow collection of peoples fleeing
depravation and seeking shelter, Weiwei forces the attentive viewer to do
something most of us genuinely hate doing; to look at all these faces and truly
struggle with ourselves to see each as human, with unique stories, motivations,
and reasons for fleeing, each one with hopes, dreams and desires, all needing
food, safety, shelter, and some sense of worth and dignity in their lives. What if we saw each of them as
ourselves? How boundlessly large, then,
would our sorrow and sympathy and compassion for them be?
Human
Flow is one of the year’s best and most important films, given an added level
of importance in a time when the governing party of the United States and major
parties across Europe are actively trying to push back against the notion that
all humans are worthy of safety, security, and dignity. Those who would deny the “other” the blessing
of common humanity must be fought, tooth and nail, without pause or
reprieve. Let this film be a wake-up
call to action for us all.
-Noah Franc
Previously on Films for the Trump Years:
Part 1- Selma
Part 2- Good Night and Good Luck
Part 3- 13th
Part 4- Get Out
Part 5- Chasing Ice/Chasing Coral
Part 6- The Big Short
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