January 24, 2013
Adrift: People of a
Lesser God – US, 2010

Mollard uses the first half of his film to detail for
viewers the present state of some North and West African counties. We see evidence of
official involvement in human smuggling and examples of indifference to the
suffering of ordinary people. Illegal activity is carried out in broad
daylight, often in full view of uniformed officers, some of whom, we’re told,
have amassed great wealth and shared it with their family members. Needless to
say, the gap between rich and poor is a vast one. During his journey, Mollard also
relates incidents of violence that he is told of, often off camera, and we get
a sense of the danger that exists in this part of the world. At one point in
the film, Mollard focuses his camera of a vast stretch of desert, and we understand
just how easy it is for people, both businessmen and terrorists, to move around
undetected.
Mollard himself never appears on screen. Instead, he focuses
his lens on the people around him, many of whom are uneasy in front of the
camera. Some agree to speak to him only if their identities are hidden, and
what they reveal make it perfectly clear why they would insist on that. Mollard
narrates the film in a calm, rather emotionless voice that will likely remind
viewers of Werner Herzog, perhaps the only other director I can imagine being
willing to do the things that Mollard does in the film. However, as effective and
insightful as Mollard’s narration is, it is abundantly clear that Mollard, also
like Herzog, is not an impartial observer. He has an obvious agenda, and his
sentiments are undoubtedly on the side of the migrants. It is to his credit
that he includes one or two opposing voices.
As impressive as the historical part of the film is, it is
not the film’s main focus, for having established a big-picture view of this
area of the world, Mollard then focuses his lens on individuals. One of the
most memorable is a young twenty-three-year-old widow who is four months
pregnant. We see the way her face lights up when she talks about going to
Spain. We also meet a young man attempting to go to Spain for the second time
despite the fact that his first attempt ending in disaster and personal
tragedy. None of the people in the film are part of an illicit trade, and none
of them speaks of living off of handouts from the Spanish government. Instead,
many of them envision returning one day and using their newfound wealth to
improve their homeland. It is a noble sentiment.
For many viewers, the most fascinating part of the film will
be the final thirty minutes, during which Mollard is adrift with thirty-eight others
on a tiny cramped boat that is continually leaking. It is this part of the film
that I will remember most of all, for the film makes it crystal clear that this
is not a journey that anyone would undertake if they felt they had any other
option. It is a five-day journey – five days of seasickness, five days of
worry, five days in which the specter of death and disaster is always present.
And Mollard is in as much danger as the rest of them.
Adrift: People of a
Lesser God is a film of enormous importance, not just for what it says
about a part of the world that will be in the news for some time now, but for
what it tells us about ordinary people and our own humanity. Often, people like
the ones featured in the film, are reduced to numbers and talked of only in
terms of how much they are affecting a government’s budget. Mollard’s film asks
us to think differently. It asks us to think beyond the headlines and the
numbers and to reflect upon history and our sense of humanity. It is hard to
say whether change will come as a result of the film, but at the very least,
the film should start an important dialogue about how best to help people whose
dreams are very similar to our own. (on DVD in Region 3)
4 stars
*Adrift: People of a
Lesser God is in English and French with English subtitles.
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