Polish director Agnieszka Holland is known for her bold storytelling and her exploration of themes of injustice affecting wide swaths of people, their resilience in turn despite overwhelming challenges, and the continual struggle against oppression. Her characters often struggle with ethical decisions in their interactions with others. Nothing is simple or straightforward in her films.
This is certainly true of Green Border, during which we follow groups of refugees from the Middle East trying to reach the European Union through the swampy forests in the green zone between Belarus and Poland.
The film opens in 2021 as a Syrian couple, Bashir (Jalal Altawil) and Amina (Dalia Naous), are traveling with their three children and Bashir’s father (Mohamad Al Rashi). Also on the plane is Leila (Behi Djanati Atai) from Afghanistan. They all plan to cross the Belarusian-Polish border to enter the European Union where they will seek asylum. When we first see the forest between the two countries, it is a lush green, but then Holland switches to black-and-white photography, reminding us of persecuted people running away from their oppressors during World War II. The same is about to happen to this family and the others with them.
No sooner have they crossed into Poland than the group is intercepted by Polish border guards who shove them back into Belarus again. This keeps happening. The exhausted refugees must deal with hunger, thirst, and injuries. With no power in their cell phones, they cannot call family members elsewhere to apprise them of their situation. They don’t know whom to trust or what might happen next.
Two characters on the Polish side represent the ethical choice faced by those cognizant of this horrific situation. Jan (Tomasz Włosok), one of the Polish border guards who has to send the refugees back to Belarus, is conflicted about his job. His wife is pregnant, and we sense that he sees her vulnerability mirrored in the families he is dealing with. But his empathy is not enough.
Meanwhile, Julia (Maja Ostaszewska), a Polish therapist who lives near the border, decides to join some activists who are offering food, water, and medical care to the refugees. We admire her commitment to help but also can’t help feeling the pain and suffering she cannot alleviate.
We’ve all seen the news clips – refugees staggering to shore from capsized boats in the Mediterranean, migrants riding atop trains or digging under border walls, children locked in cages with only Mylar sheets to keep them warm. But it is easy to distance ourselves from these people. Holland does not allow us that luxury. She puts us right in the forest with the refugees where we share in their experiences. We can’t change the channel or look away.
Holland’s storytelling forces us reflect on the quest for freedom and the enduring human spirit contrasted with the tendency to scapegoat and persecute those weaker than we are. In this day and age, when the scenes depicted in this film are still going on in the Green Border, she reminds us of the interconnectedness of personal narratives with the broader tapestry of humankind.