Keswick Film Club - Reviews - Limbo

Immigration. Asylum seekers. Topics that always seem to be high on the political agenda and are hugely divisive as a result.

Ben Sharrock's film provided an immensely personal view of one young Syrian's experience of the British system. Young Omar had fled his home in northern Syria, his home had been destroyed, his parents were refugees in Turkey and his brother had remained to fight. Should he have stayed? Little wonder then that he was as conflicted about his situation as he was disorientated by the remote Scottish island that he had been sent to whilst waiting for the decision on his application to remain.

He is a talented musician. He inherited his grandfather's Oud (an instrument not unlike a mandolin) and he takes it with him everywhere but feels unable to play it. It is a both a symbolic and physical burden that he carries, a link to the home and better times for which he is grieving.

The island is 'home' to a motley crew of Nigerians, Ghanians, Afghanis and others who spend an eternity around the local phone box, desperately trying to keep in touch with families now scattered around the globe or enduring some laughable attempts by a local couple (including a wonderful cameo from Borgen's Sidse Babett Knudsen) to equip them with the life skills to make a success of their time in the UK.

As the group of refugees is whittled down by immigration officers, only Omar and his new best friend Farhad remain. Finally we find out why Farhad, a fan and would-be lookalike of Freddie Mercury, can never return to Afghanistan. "I cannot be myself there" he confides. There are many forms of persecution.

What could be a bleak tale is leavened by dashes of absurd humour as cultures collide – the reactions from the few local residents vary from outright hostility to broadly welcoming, via outright incomprehension. Having been racially abused for the first time by a group of teenagers, Omar unwittingly uses the infamous P word to the Sikh owner of the local shop. Perplexed, the Sikh owner, in a broad Scots accent, wonders if it is possible to be abused by a fellow brown-skinned man.

Using comedy to devastating effect, Limbo gives us an understanding of what it means to be a refugee and the factors that drive ordinary people from their homes. The film has just won four Scottish BAFTAs, including Best Feature Film and Best Actor – and deservedly so.