I Was a Stranger: A Refugee Drama for Western Eyes
Brandt Andersen’s I Was a Stranger tackles the refugee crisis with a Western lens, blending activism and drama. But does its approach inform or simply sensationalise? Read on for a fresh perspective.
Some films are made with a clear agenda, and Brandt Andersen’s latest effort sits firmly in that camp. I Was a Stranger, a tense drama set against the backdrop of the Syrian refugee crisis, leans more towards activism than pure entertainment. While it’s likely to open some eyes—or at least ruffle a few feathers—others might find its approach a bit heavy-handed or even manipulative.
Plot and Structure: Many Voices, One Night
The story brings together a diverse bunch: a doctor, a poet, a soldier, a smuggler, and a Hellenic Coast Guard captain. All are thrown together on a single, life-changing night, each chasing a shot at something better. Andersen’s script tries to capture the crisis from every angle, but in doing so, the narrative can feel a bit scattered.
The film’s original title, “The Stranger’s Case,” nods to Shakespeare and the way we treat outsiders. Andersen’s message is clear—he wants us to show more humanity. Yet, in trying to cover so much ground, he sometimes falls into the very traps he’s warning against, losing sight of the individuals at the heart of the story.
Sensationalism and the Rashomon Effect
Like many films tackling this subject, I Was a Stranger struggles with sensationalism. The tagline boasts of being based on “14 million true stories,” but what’s on screen feels like a highlight reel of the most dramatic moments, stitched together for maximum impact. The use of a Rashomon-style, non-linear structure is meant to build suspense, but it comes off as a bit of a gimmick, with each segment ending on a cliffhanger. This approach ramps up the melodrama, sometimes at the expense of authenticity.
Andersen’s intentions are good, but there’s a risk of reducing a complex, deeply human experience to something that feels more like a blockbuster than a genuine exploration. The film wants to be both informative and gripping, but often leans too far into spectacle.
Perspective and Representation
One of the main criticisms is bound to be the perspective from which the story is told. Andersen, a white bloke, does manage to avoid some of the more performative pitfalls seen in similar films. There’s a sense he genuinely cares about the issue and has at least a basic grasp of what’s driving the crisis.
Still, the Western viewpoint is hard to miss. Some of the antagonists are painted with such broad strokes they verge on stereotype, and the African smuggler—though brought to life by a strong performance from Omar Sy—feels oddly exoticised. The film wraps up with a segment focused on a white saviour, which is a bit on the nose.
Ambition and Audience
Despite its flaws, there’s enough substance to keep things moving. If the focus had stayed on Yasmine Al Massri’s character and her daughter, the film might have packed a bigger punch. But Andersen aims to show the full scale of the crisis, a task that’s a bit too ambitious for a 100-minute runtime.
Interestingly, the film doesn’t push a faith-based message like some of Angel Studios’ other releases. That might actually work in its favour, especially for the studio’s mostly white, likely conservative audience. For those punters, this heavy-handed drama could be just the ticket. It’s a story told by a Westerner, for Westerners, and on those terms, it does what it sets out to do.