Fire at Sea (Fuocoammare)

Dir: Gianfranco Rosi

2016

****

Gianfranco Rosi's free-flowing documentary Fuocoammare (Fire at Sea) takes a look at life on the Sicilian island of Lampedusa which is approximately half way between Italy and Africa in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea. Lampedusa's population is around 6000 people and the main industry is fishing. It's a popular tourist destination and Rabbit Beach, situated to the south of the island, has been voted the best beach on the planet. However, it is probably better known now as being the primary European entry point for migrants who risk their lives crossing the sea in order to reach what they see as salvation. Rosi captures the day to day life of some of the island's natives as well as the migrants who survive the crossing. Rosi spent well over a year on the island and had hundreds of hours of footage, most of it organic but certainly some of it has been cultivated. The film has no narration whatsoever. This is a little hard to get used to at first. It's never clear whether this is a film about the natives, the migrants or the island in general and it's still unclear by the end. That said, there is plenty to learn about all three and how better to learn than to observe. There were times where I wondered whether some of the footage warranted inclusion, given that Rosi had to reduce 1000 hours into 108 but he does capture moments of magic and utter wonderment, as well as cold, harsh horror. Watching residents request songs from the local radio station in the initial scene gives the viewer an authentic feel of the islands inhabitants - know a person's music and know the person. We then follow Samuele, a young boy who has mastered the art of catapult making. The film follows Samuele on and off throughout the whole film, watching him and a friend find creative ways to relieve their boredom. Refugees aren't seen or heard of until around two-thirds into the film. This reminds the viewers that this island is much more than just a port but on the other hand it does also show the limitations and simplicity of the island. The film really picks up when we are introduced to one of the island's doctors who treats both Samuele and the arriving migrants. He explains to the camera the process of checking each new arrival from a medical perspective and tells of the horrific things he's seen and the difficult procedures his role often involves. He speaks as a troubled man, full of sympathy and memories he'd clearly like to forget. Later in the film, in what is my favourite scene, we see him talk to Samuele about his many ailments and explains that what he's really suffering from, in the sweetest way possible, is in fact hypochondria. As the film develops, we discover that Samuele is an anxious little lad, with a lazy eye and sea-sickness making his expected future as a fisherman a troubling thought for him. Cut to the film's inevitable and horrific chapter of the dead and dying refugees who paid all they had to cross the sea in unsuitable vessels, being lifted from their floating coffins as they're loved-ones look on through tears. The Islanders help each and every person with grace and dignity and it is clear they are haunted by what they see each day. No protests, no anti-refugee banners, just people helping people that need help. Italy's Prime Minister Matteo Renzi has said he keeps several copies of the DVD with him at all times, just in case he meets another European leader so he can give them a copy. The whole film is subjective in many respects, Rosi shows real life and real horror without opinion or solution but simply to show it how it is. It is both subtle and detailed in its delivery, very much in the tradition of Italian documentary, at times feeling very much like an early Pasolini film. It is life at sea in more ways than one and an important reminder of what is happening in the world. It's not the sort of thing you will see in the news and media, so credit to Rosi to bringing it to us.