Review: ‘Flee’ is an engrossing tale of genuine and defining moments
‘Flee’ is one man’s harrowing tale of losing his country and his family, forced to keep his origins a secret and burdened by the scars of his traumatic journey.
For some people, speaking about their pasts can be very difficult. As much as everyone enjoys the quirkily abnormal but still happy childhoods typically portrayed on screen, that’s not the reality for many adolescents. The list of terrible things a person can experience in their youth is horrifically long, but far less conversational. Whether it’s a desire to forget, shame (warranted or not), or stigmas assigned by society, recounting past incidents can range from emotional to near impossible. In Flee, a man decides to share his personal history with a friend, marking the first time he’d ever told anyone his true immigration story.
Amin is on the verge of marrying his long-time partner, but he carries a heavy weight on his shoulders that prevents him from fully letting down his guard. When he was a boy, he and his family fled from Afghanistan to Russia. They relied on human traffickers to get there and then northern Europe, embarking on taxing journeys while under the constant fear of being found out – by the authorities and their neighbours. Amin was separated from his siblings when he was still young and eventually built a life in Denmark. Twenty years later, he sits with his high school friend, filmmaker Jonas Poher Rasmussen, as he struggles to recount the events that led him there and why he can’t tell the man he loves where he came from.
This is a moving documentary told in striking animation styles fitting of the subject. In fact, once seen, it’s impossible to imagine it being told in any other way. Amin’s tale of survival is harrowing and in stark contrast to his now successful life as an academic. Forced to live a lie from such a young age, the lie became the truth and he’s afraid of the consequences of diverging from the path he so carefully constructed. Yet, there’s a perceptible sense of relief as he unburdens himself of these secrets and gains a deeper understanding of the role trust plays in his relationships. It’s sometimes like eavesdropping on a private session of talk therapy.
Of course, not all of Amin’s experiences were distressing as the film is also peppered with instances of fun and humour that alleviate some of the tension, from foreign soap operas and other pop culture inspirations to small acts of kindness. The story is conveyed entirely from Amin’s perspective as Rasmussen is primarily the sounding board to which he can tell his tale without judgement, though the filmmaker reflects the audience’s surprise at some of the revelations.
It’s a beautiful and personal film, intricately composed so viewers become absorbed in Amin’s narrative, which is both unique to him, and representative of the complex journeys of other immigrants and refugees. It’s very deserving of all the accolades it’s received thus far and should be added to your must-see list.
Director: Jonas Poher Rasmussen
