Dirty Pretty Things

Stephen Frears' remarkable new offering is probably the grimmest picture of life among London's poor since Mona Lisa, yet somehow, despite all its horrors, it feels warmer and emotionally more accessible.

Much of this is down to Audrey Tautou, still wide eyed and dreaming in very different context from Amelie; as a Turkish asylum seeker desperately trying to make her way with no money or resources, she struggles to hold onto her hopes and passions despite increasing exploitation. The film never sentimentalises her plight, nor pauses to overanalyse, but remains stark and aloof, simply a spectator, leaving the audience to question their own role as spectators in a society where abuses of this sort happen all the time.

At the centre of the tale is Tautou's flatmate, cab driver and hotel porter Okwe, actually an illegal immigrant from Nigeria, a qualified doctor who desperately needs to conceal his identity, though he never reveals his reasons until the very end. In this role, newcomer Chiwetel Ejiofor turns in a powerful and moving performance. What is particularly impressive is the complexity of the character. We see the ridiculous hours he works, we see his friends, his hobbies, his culinary habits; he comes across as a real, fully rounded person. We see him discover a human heart in a hotel toilet; uncovering the scandal behind this is only the beginning of his troubles.

Unflinchingly political, and certainly timely in that regard, Frears' work still manages to avoid preaching. That latter plot developments are predictable does not subtract from their power. At its core, this is the story of a virtuous man forced to reckon with the possibility that keeping a clear conscience may not always be the most noble thing to do. It asks some very difficult questions, many of which are left open. Morally provocative filmmaking of this sort is a rare thing, so be sure to see Dirty Pretty Things while you have the chance.