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In fact, the Iranian border guard was playing himself — Winterbottom offered to pay him to demonstrate what he would do if he discovered Jamal and Enayatullah were illegal.

At the end, when Jamal finally arrives in London, the film seems to suggest that his future there, as an undocumented immigrant with no friends or family, is highly uncertain. Indeed, for many migrants without papers, the end of a dangerous journey is only the beginning of a new struggle. Forays Into Film is a bi-weekly column about alternative films.

Email her at foraysintofilm mcgilldaily. Tweets by mcgilldaily. In the film the two young Afghan actors and their Iranian Kurdish companions are locked into a container and placed aboard a ferry bound for the Italian port of Trieste. Not all survive the journey. Earlier on they are also shot at by soldiers in a blizzard crossing the mountains between Iran and Turkey.

Both incidents come directly from stories Winterbottom and Grisoni gathered on the road. There was no shortage of material.

The border there is completely open, but the rules of the system are that you have to cross illegally to be a refugee so they have to pay smugglers to get them across these very dangerous mountains passes.

Ironically, Jamal's co-star, Enayatullah Jumadin, 22, who the British high commission in Pakistan had warned would "disappear as soon as he arrives in Britain", could not wait to get back to Pakistan and his family. Winterbottom said he hoped the film might lead people to question the negative connotations the word immigration carries rather than focus on Jamal, who only contacted the film company two months after returning to Britain.

It is ludicrous to think that people coming here weakens us. Nor does it want to shell out the expensive foreign aid required for law, order, sanitation, and fundamentalist-averse education in their homelands. As Dubya is belatedly admitting, that costs a lot of money. Winterbottom is fundamentally a humanist filmmaker who wants to humanize the headlines of Mediterranean drownings and asphyxiated Chinese stowaways that jaded Westerners ordinarily flip past to reach the stock tables and sports pages.

This rather clunky docudrama follows solemn Enayat and his younger, jokester orphan cousin, Jamal, on their four-month westward journey from Pakistan.

Sent by their family to earn and learn in London, money stashed in the liners of their tattered shoes, preyed upon by smugglers on every stop of their overland passage, they have a kind of quiet, heroic perseverance. The punctured plot, such as it is, is that of a road movie: Get from point A to point B, whatever the cost.