Some ideas can be surprisingly simple, and the perfect execution of such an idea can result in something brilliant. That happens in The Hearing, a documentary which gives an unexpected twist to the asylum application procedure in hyper-correct Switzerland.
There is nothing new about asylum seekers. We all know that they exist and that in most countries they will have to undergo lengthy, degrading procedures in their attempt to permanently escape from life-threatening conditions or situations.
And much ink has been spilled on the limbo in which asylum seekers can find themselves for years, awaiting judgement. We know that there are draconian rules, that people are scrutinised, that the system can be inhumane.
And we also know that a lot this comes down to individuals who work within that system.
But what we hardly know is who these people are: the people who listen to the stories and make decisions on applications, based on how credible they believe the applicants’ testimonies are. These civil servants bear a heavy responsibility, which requires extensive knowledge of how humans tick, empathy and unerring judgment.
The Hearing shows the people behind this system in an intriguing way. In a characterless Swiss office the cases of four asylum seekers are heard: a Nigerian woman, a man from Cameroon, a transgender woman from Sri Lanka and a young Afghan man. Seated across the table from each is a government official who will assess their case, and an interpreter. There is another person behind a computer, responsible for protocol. Everything that is said and done – each tear that is wiped away, every scar that is shown – is carefully recorded.
That same protocol forms the basis for Lisa Gerig’s documentary which precisely reconstructs the conversations as they took place. It is painfully uncomfortable to see how the asylum seekers are questioned and how they must put their fate in the hands of an official. It is clear that the reconstruction demands a lot from those who tell their stories; it doesn’t feel staged and the emotions that emerge again are real. The heartless protocol continues as the government official bickers with a colleague over the semantics of drying or dabbing tears, and where exactly on the arm the interviewee pointed to a torture scar.
The genius of the film is in the twist about three quarters of the way through, when there is a 180-degree shift in POV. The interviewers are now in the interviewee’s chair. Now the asylum seekers are allowed to ask questions about the suitability and moral implications of the work these officials do. Who are they to judge? What made them want to do this work and why do they think they can make these decisions?
The confrontation is real: the ones being interviewed now struggle to answer, or sometimes even refuse to do so. It underlines the absurdity of the system they are part of. And the absurdity of the questions (which asylum seekers must answer) about exact times, dates and numbers. Nobody can remember exactly what happened years ago, as the officials prove by not remembering how many people were present at their job interview. It also underlines how irresponsible it is to have one person in control of another person’s fate, based on a conversation (no matter how extensive), especially when that person may well be sent back to a life-threatening situation.
What adds greatly to the power of the film is its austerity. Only between scenes are there shots along the corridors of the impersonal building, which, together with the minimalistic music, evoke a feeling of cold unease.
It was a remarkable feat on the part of director Gerig that she found the various asylum seekers and their interrogators willing to co-operate in this intriguing experiment, one that offers invaluable insight into the management of the so-called refugee problem.
Switzerland, 2023, 82 mins
Writer & Director: Lisa Gerig
Producers: Maurizius Staerkle Drux & Eva Vitija, Ensemble Film, Zürich (CH)
Co-producer: Swiss National Broadcaster (SRF)
Cinematographer: Ramòn Giger
Additional Cinematographer: Savino Caruso
Sound Recordist: Julian Fuchs
Additional Sound Recording: Nadine Häusler
Music: Martina BertherEditors: Ruth Schlaepfer, Lisa Gerig
Postproduction Supervisor: Ian Oggenfuss
Supported by: Bundesamt für Kultur, Zürcher Filmstiftung, Kulturfonds Suissimage, Fondation SUISA, Verein Casa nell’Arte, Markant Stiftung, Stiftung Anne-Marie Schindler, Stiftung Corymbo
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