Sometimes, ugly times produce beautiful art, and Lucky Miles is a beautiful film.
I've lost count of the times a smirking politician has described how shockingly, insufferably bad things are in some of them nasty foreign places. They should be thankful we're carpet-bombing them, to restore some civility. Or so we're constantly told.
At the same time it's argued that if some of the locals ever wanted to flee from the above-mentioned insufferably-bad places then there must be something suspicious about them.
Politicians depict refugees as a kind of blood-sucking mix of sacrilege and explosives and use this kind of message to win elections. In one infamous Australian election campaign, the incumbent Liberal government headed by John Howard explained to a horrified electorate that refugees showed their true colors by throwing healthy babies into the ocean to drown. And they had photos to prove it. The electorate was stunned and offered sufficient votes to return the government for another term. It was only after the election that the whole story came out: the kids in the photos (and adults too) were in the water because their boat was sinking.
Refugees are a fact of life, and with climate change set to inundate some of the most heavily populated coastal regions with salty water, the smart money says the issue is not going to fade away. There's no such thing as a country without borders and in a place like Australia, which is an island-continent the size of mainland USA, I think it's preferable being better informed about refugees rather than lied to.
And so it is with an approach of casting a gentle and honest light on a mixed batch of refugees, dumped on a remote stretch of Australian coastline, that Lucky Miles begins its story. The refugees are not saints, and they're not villains either. In fact they seem to be remarkably human. Excited, frightened, insecure, and totally unfamiliar with their new surroundings, but at all times, human. There's one memorable scene where a group encounters an 'unexploded' tin can. The film doesn't mock their response. It just deals with it and moves on. And I love that.
One aspect of the film which I've never seen used before, was the use of text translations positioned right alongside the speakers instead of always running on the bottom of the screen as subtitles. I hate thinking of all the foreign-language footage I've never seen over the years because I was tied up scanning only the bottom one-tenth of a screen reading the text. Placing the translations alongside the character not only allowed me to watch the film, but also made it crystal clear which character was talking - a feature which enhanced the long-distance scenes immeasurably. That subtle difference alone made me feel like spontaneously applauding.
And that's what it's like to watch this film. You can peel away the 'spin' filters, canned laughter and smoke machines, and make up your own mind about the issues as the story develops. And it is a good story too, with real human drama. It is told with refreshing simplicity. It feels believable. Director Michael James Rowland truly shines in his role.
I thoroughly recommend this film.
I've lost count of the times a smirking politician has described how shockingly, insufferably bad things are in some of them nasty foreign places. They should be thankful we're carpet-bombing them, to restore some civility. Or so we're constantly told.
At the same time it's argued that if some of the locals ever wanted to flee from the above-mentioned insufferably-bad places then there must be something suspicious about them.
Politicians depict refugees as a kind of blood-sucking mix of sacrilege and explosives and use this kind of message to win elections. In one infamous Australian election campaign, the incumbent Liberal government headed by John Howard explained to a horrified electorate that refugees showed their true colors by throwing healthy babies into the ocean to drown. And they had photos to prove it. The electorate was stunned and offered sufficient votes to return the government for another term. It was only after the election that the whole story came out: the kids in the photos (and adults too) were in the water because their boat was sinking.
Refugees are a fact of life, and with climate change set to inundate some of the most heavily populated coastal regions with salty water, the smart money says the issue is not going to fade away. There's no such thing as a country without borders and in a place like Australia, which is an island-continent the size of mainland USA, I think it's preferable being better informed about refugees rather than lied to.
And so it is with an approach of casting a gentle and honest light on a mixed batch of refugees, dumped on a remote stretch of Australian coastline, that Lucky Miles begins its story. The refugees are not saints, and they're not villains either. In fact they seem to be remarkably human. Excited, frightened, insecure, and totally unfamiliar with their new surroundings, but at all times, human. There's one memorable scene where a group encounters an 'unexploded' tin can. The film doesn't mock their response. It just deals with it and moves on. And I love that.
One aspect of the film which I've never seen used before, was the use of text translations positioned right alongside the speakers instead of always running on the bottom of the screen as subtitles. I hate thinking of all the foreign-language footage I've never seen over the years because I was tied up scanning only the bottom one-tenth of a screen reading the text. Placing the translations alongside the character not only allowed me to watch the film, but also made it crystal clear which character was talking - a feature which enhanced the long-distance scenes immeasurably. That subtle difference alone made me feel like spontaneously applauding.
And that's what it's like to watch this film. You can peel away the 'spin' filters, canned laughter and smoke machines, and make up your own mind about the issues as the story develops. And it is a good story too, with real human drama. It is told with refreshing simplicity. It feels believable. Director Michael James Rowland truly shines in his role.
I thoroughly recommend this film.