On a dead-calm morning in the Mediterranean, the migrant rescue ship of Doctors Without Borders spots a deflating rubber boat. Dozens of people are struggling in the water. Among the refugees is Roro, a Yemeni mother travelling with her husband, Hani, their two-month-old baby, and two young sons. This is the opening scene of my film Rescue. As the rescue begins, a Libyan militia intervenes and abducts Roro and the children, dragging them back to Libya. Meanwhile, Hani is rescued and arrives in Europe alone. A family is violently torn apart across the Mediterranean.
While Hani fights from Europe to reunite the family, Roro struggles to survive captivity in Libya and to protect her children. Trapped by a violent system deeply entangled with EU border politics, she relentlessly attempts to cross the sea again. The story of Roro and Hani illustrates how migration policies are experienced not simply as laws and procedures but as forces that shape families, relationships and individual lives, reaching into the most intimate spheres. It is a story of family, loss, resilience, dignity and the struggle to be seen.
I work as a migration researcher and film director, and I often find that documentaries offer something different from research in writing: an immediate and human perspective—a feeling behind the data, making complex political processes visible and accessible to broader audiences.
The European Union’s approach to migration increasingly involves the externalisation of border control, with North African countries being paid to prevent migrants from reaching Europe. At the same time, rescue operations in the Mediterranean have become the subject of political conflict and criminalisation. The result is overcrowded boats carrying children and families encountering dangerous conditions, while organisations and individuals attempting to save lives can themselves face political and legal pressure. These are processes that can be complicated to document as a film team, since places, time and access continually change. One powerful tool is self-documentation, which gives migrants greater agency in how their experiences are represented.
In RESCUE, Roro decides to secretly record her captivity in Libya, using a phone hidden in her baby’s diaper, thereby providing an intimate account of conditions that might otherwise remain unseen. This footage is seen through the eyes of a woman. Such personal footage can contribute valuable qualitative evidence to migration research by documenting experiences from the perspective of those who are directly affected. These choices inevitably shape the audience’s understanding of events. Researchers and filmmakers must therefore approach such documentary material critically, considering questions of representation, ethics, consent and context.
Nevertheless, documentaries can bridge the gap between research and public understanding. They can translate abstract concepts such as border externalisation, deterrence and asylum policy into stories that audiences can emotionally understand. In doing so, they encourage viewers to consider what European societies are actually funding and producing at their borders. Ultimately, the contribution of documentaries to migration research lies in their ability to connect political structures with human experiences.
Sine Plambech (
Watch the trailer here!
Sine Plambech’s website: https://sineplambech.com