Storyline: A 16-year-old Afghan boy, Jamal, was born in a refugee camp in the White Sands region of Pakistan. His parents died when he was a child. His cousin Enyata's father spent $20,000 to want his son to go to London to live a happy life. At this time, Jamal, who speaks a little English, happened to be a companion to accompany Enyatta to apply for asylum in London. So, the two set out on the road with dreams and desires. From Pakistan to Iran, on the way, we traveled on various small buses, and the people who found the snakeheads changed into Iranian clothes, and imitated Iranian speeches in order to pray that they would not be discovered. Then unfortunately, it was finally discovered by the Iranian authorities and sent back to Pakistan. So they switched to a different way. They took refuge in various vehicles via Iran, and crossed the snow-capped mountains to reach the Eurasian Continental Bridge - Turkey. After Turkey, they started working in factories to earn travel expenses, and were then packed into sealed containers by stowaways. On the way the freighter sailed to the Mediterranean, everyone died. Jamal's cousin died in the container due to lack of oxygen. When they arrived in Italy, only a two- or three-year-old Iranian child and Jamal survived. After arriving, Jamal made a living by selling trinkets and occasionally stealing things, and finally got on a ship to London via France, through the English Channel, and arrived in London. On August 9, 2001, Jamal's refugee claim was rejected, but he was granted special residency rights, but he had to return to Pakistan on his eighteenth birthday. Film review: I don't pay much attention to British movies, and in my stereotype, British movies are mostly dark humor, and this kind of comedy fits with most British comedies. Also reflected in this movie, Jamal kept telling jokes with his companions during the escape process. He asked his cousin, Where did the song on the wall come from? The cousin looked blank, so he began to explain that the lyrics were improvised by a quarreling couple, throwing spoons and pots at the same time, and the resulting sound became music. Similarly when he was in Italy. It may be difficult to feel a trace of joy in the context of this political flight, but Jamal's own beauty far surpasses his own suffering. There is no perfect article, and there is certainly no downright despair. What impresses me is the scene of playing football. In the concentration camps in Pakistan, there is no entertainment, and perhaps the simplest pleasure is playing football with a buddy. This reflects his own pure beauty to the world. Although Jamal did not qualify for long-term refugee asylum, he could have a wonderful growth experience in London. The war made Afghanistan a hell and London a paradise. But I think that happiness and beauty in the heart are inalienable, and this cannot be changed no matter where you live. Wandering in a strange place may not be better than a familiar place, better than the material, better than the environment, better than the familiar emotion. May Jamal continue to be this good, even though the world is not good enough. I would like to be treated gently by the world, if not, I will embrace the world.
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