“Borderland: The Line Within” takes a surprisingly multidisciplinary approach fueled by both personal history and government data.
Some of the devastating information presented in the new film “Borderland: The Line Within” (in theaters) is familiar from recent documentaries. Filmmakers concerned with the humanitarian crisis at the U.S.-Mexico border understand how the camera can draw attention to what news reports and punditry miss: the human cost of government policies and law enforcement practices. Putting faces on abstract numbers activates empathy in a way no speech ever really can.
“Borderland: The Line Within” examines this terrain a little differently. The director Pamela Yates does focus on individuals — two in particular. The first is Kaxh Mura’l, a Mayan man whom Yates knew from a previous documentary set in Guatemala. As the film opens, Mura’l is receiving death threats for his environmental activism there. If he can make it to the United States, he will qualify for legal asylum. But as the film shows, he struggles to be permitted due to obstructive border enforcement practices. His is a Kafka-esque tale with urgent and crucial stakes.
The other subject is Gabriela Castañeda, an undocumented immigrant and mother whose status as a Dreamer under the DACA program was suddenly revoked. Castañeda is certain that the move is related to her activism on behalf of the Border Network for Human Rights. If she were detained, it would mean leaving her children alone.
Seeing Mura’l and Castañeda’s stories unfold is powerful and often infuriating. But what really bolsters the film’s argument are the other figures in the documentary. In one sequence, hidden cameras capture immigration enforcement agents destroying gallons of water left in the desert by humanitarian groups like No More Deaths. Videos can’t show us everything, but the image of smiling agents kicking jugs and pouring out water certainly adds new dimensions.
Yet what I found most fascinating in “Borderland” was, oddly enough, the more scientific part. Three participants in the film — Manan Ahmed, Alex Gil and Roopika Risam — are digital humanists at Columbia University, meaning they use data to inform their scholarly work in the humanities. All three have personal histories that intersect with U.S. immigration. Together, they use government data to spot patterns in public spending that tell a story about where, and how, taxpayer money is spent at the border. Their models also trace the flow of money toward politicians on all sides of the issue and directly connect to how immigration policy is made.
Woven into the personal narratives, the data visualizations — and the scholars’ explanation of why they matter — make the message land even harder. If video footage provides a damning perspective, this data offers an expansive one, allowing “Borderland” to explore the crisis as both individual and systemic. The issue is bigger than any one person. “Borderland” comes at it from more than one direction, and is more effective for it.
Source: Movies - nytimes.com
