By Abbas Karimi
June 25, 2022
Source: Jam-e Jam Newspaper
Lost Whispers in the Distance, a documentary by Mansour Forouzesh, carries a poetic title that primes the viewer for a lyrical, impressionistic experience. Yet, within minutes, it reveals itself as an observational documentary — journalistic, sincere, and neutral — offering a clear-eyed look at the phenomenon of asylum-seeking and illegal migration.
The film examines the asylum crisis through various cases and, after presenting a range of factual and emotional material, subtly concludes that most attempts at asylum fail — and that the voices of these individuals remain unheard, like distant whispers far from home.
Structured with a parallel yet chronological approach, the director builds his narrative using the following elements:
- Verified statistical data presented in text;
- Firsthand experiences from migrants, primarily through interviews that form the film’s emotional core;
- Observational scenes of daily migrant life, evoking joy, sorrow, rage, and hardship;
- Recorded phone calls with a human trafficker explaining how to cross borders illegally.
Also responsible for editing, the director assembles this material with intelligence and restraint, avoiding narrative fatigue by maintaining variety in structure. However, what’s notably absent — perhaps intentionally — is any glimpse into the daily lives of ordinary citizens in the host country. Including such scenes could have deepened the film’s impact by allowing viewers to contrast the bleakness of camp life with a more normalized existence outside.
Shot largely with a handheld camera in a spontaneous, unstructured style, the film captures its subjects in real time — a necessity given the unpredictable and often tense settings. The opening static shots of the camp’s cold, desolate spaces effectively convey the inertia and gloom that defines daily life for its residents.
Due to its raw documentary style and observational tone, the film uses minimal music — a choice that aligns with the subdued mood of the camps. Still, the bleak atmosphere rarely demands more sonic embellishment.
Some interviews, particularly with individuals who struggle to articulate themselves, can feel long or repetitive. This repetitiveness is intentional — an editorial choice to emphasize the shared nature of these experiences — but at times it edges toward monotony. Occasionally, the film feels more like a radio report than a visual narrative. In such moments, inserting cutaway scenes of urban environments or daily life could have revived the pacing and added visual variety.
Viewed as a whole, Lost Whispers in the Distance is an honest, dignified, and deeply affecting film. With a few more scenes or added layers, it might have reached even greater artistic and emotional resonance. Nonetheless, it remains an essential and educational watch for all audiences.
— Abbas Karimi Abbasi, poet and critic
