QUICK’N DIRTY: LIVE FROM VENICE
Remember when two Welsh shoppers found extra labels sewn into their items saying “forced to work exhausting hours” and “degrading sweatshop conditions”? The garments apparently came from Bangladesh. Surely this couldn’t happen in the European Union! Stephan Komandarev’s 12th feature begs to differ. The working conditions inside a textile factory in a small Bulgarian town are beyond degrading. The labourers – mostly middle-aged women – are made to work 14-hour shifts glued to a sewing machine, ensuring that the clothes are stitched to perfection. They are crammed inside one large and dark warehouse without ventilation. Powerful Italian businessman Giuseppe Mancini owns the business, which he runs it with an iron fist.
Iva (Gergana Pletnyova) is one of the devoted seamstresses. She’s grateful for her job. She justifies her contentment: “it’s not too bad, and it’s better than working in the mines” (where her husband lost his life). One day, she’s hit with a fever of nearly 40C, but the doctor refuses to give her a sick note. She cannot afford to take a day off: that would cost her entire monthly “bonus” (roughly half of her salary). She has to provide for her teenage son Misho, who is more interested in making YouTube videos and immigrating to a “promising” Germany than in finding a job. So she takes paracetamol and goes back to work the next day. She continuous to work diligently until she literally collapses on the floor. Next, she wakes up in hospital.
The events take place in March 2025, when the first cases of Covid hit Bulgaria. A test conducted in country’s capital Sofia reveals that Ida is infected with the disease, and that the virus has now spread to other factory workers and their families. Ida survives the ordeal, only to be labelled “patient zero” and ostracised by the entire town. Misho too tests positive, and blames his mother for it. His girlfriend dumps him, and his friends attack him. Iva’s employers accuse her of neglect, arguing that she compromised the safety of her co-workers by going to work with the knowledge that she was very sick. They conveniently disregard that fact that Mr Mancini was in Bergamo (the epicentre of the pandemic in Europe) just a week earlier. More than likely, he infected Ida and the other employees. The poor woman is a mere scapegoat.
The factory’s manager is one of the film’s most significant characters. He consistently threatens and intimidates the workers, showering them with verbal abuse. He does the “dirty work” so that Mr Mancini can keep his hands clean. The distance that he keeps from other employees is such that it isn’t until the second half of the film that we realise that he’s Iva’s brother. The deeply opportunistic man is very comfortable in the shoes of the oppressor’s thug. His fulfils the morally questionable role to perfection in exchange of certain privileges.
The desire to seek pastures green elsewhere in the EU is prevalent and pervasive. Misho is devastated that the virus has thrown a spanner in the works, and he’s no longer able to move to Germany (at least not immediately). Doctor Rusev (Ivaylo Hristov) tells Misho that he went down that route when he was a little younger, only to return to Bulgaria years later. The kind man is a retired clinician summoned back to work after the virus quickly spread. And he’s the film’s voice of reason, the first one to alert Iva that the blame does not lie with her. It is neoliberalism that pits workers against each other. Victim against victim. Dog eats dog.
Broken down into five parts (which function more or less like numbered pregnant pauses), Made in EU succeeds on multiple fronts. Firstly, it reveals the cruel machinations of capitalism, and the inescapable circle of abuse to which unscrupulous business owners subject labourers at the margins of society. The tactics are so sophisticated and precise, that its very victims become its most staunch champions.
Secondly, it busts the myth of European unity. These people live in the “periphery of the periphery”, and are subjected to working conditions unthinkable in other parts of the Union. This is achieved without being preachy, didactic, and resorting to activism. The shooting is on location, the settings are unembellished, and the acting is naturalistic, in good ol’ social realist style. The characters are fully rounded, and the developments are entirely credible. And the outcome isn’t entirely bleak. There are small gestures of solidarity that infuse the movie with a sense of hope. And then there is the possibility of vindication, à la I, Daniel Blake (Ken Loach, 2016). Made in EU is a small movie gem, a non-doctored picture of real life on the fringes of Europe, and also a call-to-action.
Made in EU just premiered in the Spotlight section of the 82nd Venice International Film Festival.
