.png){kind=logo}
As images of ICE raids and reactionary protests dominate global headlines, Felipe Bustos Sierra’s documentary “Everybody to Kenmure Street” acts as a vital contextualization of Scottish history and of recent community action in the face of uniformed overreach. Chronicling an impromptu demonstration in 2021 in a sleepy Glasgow enclave, the film wields its combination of archival footage, re-enactments, social media clips and contemporary interviews to highlight the fabric of a neighborhood coming together to protect two of its own, while tensions build between the people and state.
Five minutes can be an eternity in montage time, but the movie’s lengthy introduction is a daring announcement of historical scope. Its opening frames — of old photographs of suffragettes, sketched maps of slave routes and TV footage of ’70s union rallies against the Thatcher government — help couch its modern (and distinctly ordinary) citizenry within the kind of extraordinary political traditions and sordid histories we all secretly possess. By the time the central premise fades into view, and a U.K. Immigration Enforcement van sits outside an unassuming brownstone, Bustos Sierra and editor Colin Monie have already invigorated the viewer.
The Pollokshields area in Glasgow, home to a heavily Muslim community, falls victim to one of the U.K. Home Office’s “dawn raids” on the morning of Eid al-Fitr, a holy day in the Islamic calendar. The incursion feels pointed, but before two Sikh immigrants can be whisked away — men who have lived there a decade or longer — a slight commotion begins. Interviews of residents present that morning are accompanied by cellphone clips from curious onlookers (on the street and up above) as rumors and hearsay are soon clarified, revealing that an anonymous man has taken it upon himself to crawl under the vehicle to prevent it from leaving with the arrested migrants, at great personal risk. As the day wears on, the interview subjects recall their WhatsApp groups lighting up, until more people from the surrounding buildings add to the sea of residents stopping the van from taking off. Meanwhile, even more neon-vested cops from Scotland Yard arrive to assist their fellow officers.
“Everybody to Kenmure Streets” finds its power in gradually building rhythms. Its assortment of recollections consists, for the most part, of first-hand accounts from residents seated at acute angles from the interview camera against colorful backdrops. Their positioning seems awkward at first, but it frames these average citizens as the subjects of regal portraitures. White and South Asian alike, they speak of taking action to protect their neighbors as though it were the obvious thing to do, which is nothing if not inspiring. However, some people present that day, glimpsed in COVID masks — such as the man beneath the van and a nurse reaching out to check on him for lengthy periods — don’t show up themselves. Instead, in order to protect their identities, their words are read aloud during re-enactments by powerhouse actresses such as Emma Thompson (who squeezes herself beneath an axle) and Kate Dickie (performing, as the nurse, on all fours on Kenmure Street itself).
From lawyers and politicians to local teachers and Imams, the sea of sit-down interviewees grows as quickly and noticeably as the number of protesters on the day itself. As this in-person crowd increases — along with impassioned chants and provisions of food and refreshment — so too does the tension between the people and police. The situation hurtles ever forward toward the threat of eruption, though not without the movie making deftly timed detours toward historical context.
The citizenry seen in “Everybody to Kenmure Street” isn’t just active and willing, but informed. The interviewees are thus able to articulate not only the contemporary political milieu and Glaswegians’ famous (and early) support for Nelson Mandela, but the dark past of their own city as a hub of the Transatlantic slave trade. Together, the filmmakers and their subjects not only connect these various dots, but express — in rousing, essayistic fashion — the manner in which this history is filtered down into the now, and the ways this modern tug-of-war between the state and proletariat has emerged from both proud traditions and those which remain unconfronted.
Ultimately, “Everybody to Kenmure Street” is a film about power, who currently wields it, and how it can be snatched back by communities in the name of solidarity. Although its focus is on one corner of a larger skirmish, its collection of images — of growing dissent among people who simply want to live their lives unbothered by racist policies — becomes incredibly energizing, as Bustos Sierra carefully captures and pays tribute to everyday people coming together to put that power back where it belongs.
English (US) ·