Monday, April 8, 2019

In Search of Safe Spaces

In 2009, a French film directed by Philippe Lioret gave audiences a disturbing look into the growing immigration crisis in Europe. Set in the French coastal city of Calais, Welcome focused on the strange relationship between two men. The adult was a swimming coach who ended up working with an Iraqi-Kurdish teenage migrant whose goal was to swim across the English Channel in order to reunite with his girlfriend.

While the political unrest in Calais was due to the growing desperation of immigrants hoping to make it to the White Cliffs of Dover (which they could easily see on a clear day), their living conditions and the size of their population would soon mushroom into a major international crisis.


In 2016, Gianfranco Rosi's award-winning documentary, Fire At Sea, focused on North African immigrants determined to cross the Mediterranean Sea in order to seek asylum in Italy. Set on the small island of Lampedusa (whose tourism economy was being threatened by the constant arrival of dark-skinned immigrants who put their lives in the hands of smugglers while knowing they might drown at sea), at one point the camera starts to zoom in on what looks like a patch of boiling water within eyesight of the shoreline. During this terrifying sequence, a viewer might initially wonder if the camera was filming a school of dolphins or porpoises leaping in and out of the water but, on closer examination, it turns out to be a horde of desperate immigrants struggling to reach dry land, even though many of them cannot swim (Rosi was allowed to film from one of the rescue boats that patrol the waters off Lampedusa).

A scene from 2016's The Fire At Sea

Here in the United States, Donald Trump's manufactured crisis along the Mexican border has transformed asylum seekers into political pawns, separated families from their children, locked children in cages, and converted the United States from a would-be champion of human rights to a major abuser of human rights. Though some of America’s empty shopping malls could quickly be converted into homeless shelters for refugees fleeing Central America, our government's xenophobic foreign policies and appalling lack of empathy (coupled with Trump's institutionalized racism) have crippled humanitarian efforts along the nation's southern border. As Shakespeare wrote, "The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings."

By 2015, more than a million refugees fleeing Syria had fled to Europe. Faced with a seemingly unmanageable situation, German Chancellor Angela Merkel (who was also the head of the European Union) developed a plan that mustered buses and trains to move the growing stream of homeless immigrants (often within days of their arrival in Greece) towards Germany. Merkel also converted Berlin’s former Tempelhof airport (which had ceased operations and closed in 2008) into a major homeless shelter and processing center. When tensions among some of the facility's nearly 8,000 temporary residents erupted in violence, police actions proved to be more incendiary than helpful. To her credit, Merkel changed course, bringing in more social workers, healthcare providers, and other services to help process the asylum seekers and make their transition into German society a smoother experience.


Tina Brown's powerful OpEd that was recently published in The New York Times ("What Happens When Women Stop Leading Like Men") should be required reading for anyone who wonders why the worst immigration crises of the 21st century have been so horribly mismanaged. Brown ends her editorial with the following kernel of advice:
"It’s past time for women to stop trying to cram themselves into outdated NASA spacesuits designed for an alien masculine physique. Salvation doesn’t lie in pursuing traditional male paths of ejaculatory self-elevation. In drawing on women’s wisdom without apology and pushing that wisdom forward into positions of power, we can soothe our world and, maybe, even save it."
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I was initially attracted to documentarian Karim Aïnouz's film Central Airport THF (which will be screened during the 2019 San Francisco International Film Festival) because I had read numerous articles about how Berlin's former city airport was, in some ways, an architectural museum. Built in 1927, its main terminal was once hailed as one of the 20 largest buildings on the planet. The famous British architect, Sir Norman Foster, designated Tempelhof as "the mother of all airports."

Poster art for Central Airport THF

A new main terminal (a series of semicircular hangars designed to resemble an eagle's wingspread) was built in the 1930s to serve as the home of Germany's national airline (Deutsche Luft Hansa). Though construction was interrupted by World War II, the building was part of Albert Speer's master plan for an urban renewal project that would transform Berlin into Hitler's new capital city, Germania. From August of 1948 to September 1949, the Berlin Airlift used Tempelhof as a base of operations (even dropping candy by parachute to children living near the airport).






With cinematography by Juan Sarmiento, sound design by Moritz Unger, and a film score by Benedikt Schiefer, Central Airport THF begins as the camera follows a small tour group being taken through the terminal's main lobby. As  their guide points out important facets of the building's architecture, one can hear soft strains of music from Richard Wagner's 1845 opera, Tannhauser.

Although the first wave of refugees to arrive at Tempelhof were told they would probably only have to stay there for six weeks, some have been living in the shelter for three years. One of the immigrants closely followed by the filmmaker is Ibrahim Al Hussein, a young Syrian who very much misses the sights and sounds of his native Aleppo. Viewers witness Al Hussein as he progresses through bureaucratic steps of immigration while killing time with friends he has made at the shelter, celebrating his birthday far from his family, stepping outside to smoke, and calling his mother in Syria to let her know that he has graduated from "protected" status to full recognition as an asylum seeker who will soon be able to leave the shelter and move into a housing situation in Berlin.


Aïnouz's film quietly captures the daily activities of families living in the Tempelhof shelter (ranging from medical checkups and vaccinations to classes in German and a spectacular display of fireworks on New Year's Eve). Some refugees find work in the shelter’s administration (a Pakistani physician makes himself useful as a translator) while a fence separates the shelter's facilities from the part of Tempelhof's airfield that was converted into a public park where Germans can be seen riding bicycles and Segways on the airport's apron and runways.

Among the ironies of Central Airport THF are that, rather than dealing with a constant stream of arrivals and departures, thousands of people in the shelter have no way of knowing how or when they will be able to leave Tempelhof (one man would rather stay there with his friends than be forced to start a new life again). Perhaps the greatest irony is that one of the landmark pieces of architecture meant to glorify Aryan culture is now providing shelter and sustenance to so many people (Muslims and other dark-skinned refugees) that Adolf Hitler would have hated. Here's the trailer.


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Carole Shorenstein Hays is currently presenting the West Coast premiere of an immersive theater piece created by two British playwrights who, while working with refugees in Calais, created an arts organization called “Good Chance Theatre.” From 2015 until "The Jungle" was destroyed by the French police in October of 2016, they gathered material for a performance piece appropriately named The Jungle. As Joe Murphy and Joe Robertson recall:
“Like many people in Europe, we were shocked by the images we were seeing in the news and on social media. There was hysteria in the response to what was happening, but few answers to some very basic questions (who are these people, why are they traveling, and what do they hope to find). The police would come into the camp fully clothed in riot gear with their shields, guns, batons, tear gas cannons, and do daily walkarounds. Then there would be nightly battles. Nobody wanted this place to exist. Everybody recognized that it was not a place where human beings should be living out their lives (especially when you think of families living there with young children).” 
Safi (Ammar Haj Ahmad) and Okot (John Pfumojena)
in a scene from The Jungle (Photo by: Little Fang Photo) 
“It was a very contradictory situation in that there were people fighting for something they didn’t want to fight for. Those resisting arrest and trying to hang onto a very basic wooden house or tent ultimately did not want to be there. Being so naïve meant that we opened ourselves up to listening more than we might have if we’d felt that we really had a handle on things. The fact was that we didn’t, which forced us to listen, and to think on our feet.”
Mohammed (Jonathan Nyati), Safi (Ammar Haj Ahmad),
 Derek (Dominic Rowan), and Sam (Tommy Letts) in a
scene from The Jungle (Photo by: Little Fang Photo)

Originally commissioned by the National Theatre, The Jungle premiered on December 7, 2017 at the Young Vic Theatre in London, transferred to the West End in June of 2018, and had its New York premiere at St. Ann's Warehouse in Brooklyn on December 4, 2018. Miriam Buether's rugged scenic design required Shorenstein Hays to remove the seating from the main floor of the Curran Theatre in order to create an immersive space that could accommodate approximately 400 theatergoers while an international company of actors sang, danced, acted, and fought in their midst. With video monitors carefully positioned to add tension to the dramatic proceedings, the production benefits immensely from its effective use of multimedia.


With more than 20 characters ranging from mischievous teenagers like Norullah (Khaled Zahabi) and Maz (Moe Bar-El) to Brits like the aggressive Paula (Lorraine Bruce) -- who wants to take care of the children in the refugee camp -- and an amiable alcoholic musician called Boxer (Trevor Fox), it takes a while for the audience to really latch onto which characters -- like the smuggler Ali (Rachid Sabitri) and the stubborn restaurant owner, Salar (Ben Turner) -- have clearly defined goals in mind and which actors (Ibrahim Renno as Imad, Mohamed Sarrar as Omar, Bisserat Tseggai as Mahelet, and Zara Rasti as Little Amal) have smaller roles to fill.

Little Amal (Arya Rose Lohmor) and Norullah
(Khaled Zahabi) in a scene from The Jungle
(Photo by: Little Fang Photo) 

Powerfully directed by Stephen Daldry and Justin Martin, conflicts between the narrator, Safi (Ammar Haj Ahmad) and Sam (Tommy Letts) -- an English volunteer who wants to build houses for the refugees -- draw sharp contrasts to Rachel Redford's Beth, a British volunteer determined to rescue a young black Sudanese refugee named Okot (John Pfumojena). With costumes by Catherine Kodicek, lighting by Jon Clark, and sound design by Paul Arditti, others in the cast include Nahel Tzegai as Helene, and Alexander Devrient appearing as a French Guard, Yasin, and a French bureaucrat named Henri.

Beth (Rachel Redford) in a scene from The Jungle
(Photo by: Little Fang Photo) 

While Dominic Rowan's Derek (a British volunteer attempting to navigate legal issues facing the refugees) struggles with French authorities, strong cameo roles are filled by Yasin Moradi as Hamid, Jonathan Nyati as Mohammed, Moses M. Sesay as Mustafa, and Eric Tabach as Shahmeer. The British volunteers often telegraph an unfortunate sense of white privilege ("I don't have to be here," shouts a frustrated Sam, "but I am"). Some of the refugees -- who have been to hell and back enough times to qualify as the walking dead -- barely have enough strength left to keep moving.

Salar (Ben Turner) in a scene from The Jungle
(Photo by: Little Fang Photo) 

There is much to admire in The Jungle, including the music composed by John Pfumojena (the talented Zimbabwean who portrays Okot) as well as the video design by Duncan McLean and Tristan Shepherd. In the spirit of full disclosure, I was not able to enjoy the performance as much as I would have liked due to a splitting headache (the show has a running time of two and a half hours, but I had difficulty staying focused during the last 30 minutes).

Performances of The Jungle continue through May 19 at the Curran Theatre (click here for tickets). Here's the trailer:

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