Dirty Pretty Things Film Essays
"A Business Based on Happiness"
A counterfeit passport and a commodified human kidney. A pirated version of an object that ties us to political life, and a commercialized, alienated version of a body part that ties us to biological life. These are the two illicit articles that circulate in Dirty Pretty Things (2002), directed by Stephen Frears and scripted by Stephen Knight. The relationship that the film posits between the passport and the kidney is one of equivalence: one object is exchanged for another, thus placing them in an economic relationship. As with most forms of commodity exchange, the deal requires a contract between two interested parties: one, an ailing renal transplant patient who wants to purchase a kidney because she can no longer wait for one to become legally available, and the other, an undocumented immigrant who willingly agrees to give up her kidney in exchange for a (fake) passport. From this unsavory transaction, Frears and Knight develop a compelling narrative that is best placed in the generic category of the thriller, for the story of Dirty Pretty Things is primarily about how its two protagonists, an asylum seeker and an undocumented immigrant, respectively, escape the fate of having to surrender their own kidneys. My argument in this essay is twofold. First, I suggest that Dirty Pretty Things seeks to critique this economic transaction by exposing that it is based on the commodification of that which should typically remain aneconomic: hospitality. However, the plot satisfaction provided by ensuring that the protagonists escape kidney extraction comes at a high ethical price. Hence the second point I seek to make: because the audience cannot but side with its protagonists and their refusal to capitulate to the organ trade, Dirty Pretty Things and its viewers risk becoming complicit in the immoralities of the very capitalism that the film seeks to critique. [End Page 38]
Dirty Pretty Things is the result of an unusual collaboration. London's immigrant population is familiar territory for Frears, whose back catalog includes films such as My Beautiful Laundrette (1985) and Sammy and Rosie Get Laid (1987), both of which deal with the issue of hospitality, examining how Britain receives and treats its immigrants, and how these immigrants, in turn, survive in Thatcherite Britain. Both of these films, moreover, are scripted by Hanif Kureishi. Dirty Pretty Things, however, sees Frears teaming up not with Kureishi, who is known for his acerbic treatment of Britain's supposed multiculturalism, but with Stephen Knight, who debuted with this film, and was previously best known as the co-creator and scriptwriter of the popular game show Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? The film is shot in a contemporary London stripped of all its glamour and tourist attractions, and deals primarily, as the presence of the counterfeit passport makes clear, with the plight of undocumented immigrants who try to survive in a turn-of-the-millennium capital that is portrayed as being infected with a rampant, predatory, and ubiquitous capitalism. Most of the film is set in the Baltic Hotel, an upmarket London establishment serviced almost entirely by immigrant employees. The lives of the three main characters intersect here. They are all members of the Baltic's immigrant staff, but hold different statuses under British law. Senay is a Turkish asylum seeker, and is not permitted to seek employment in the country until her case has been processed. She works illegally as a maid, cleaning up after the guests who stay at the Baltic. There, she meets Okwe, the nighttime receptionist at the Baltic, and falls in love with him. A Nigerian doctor who is fleeing persecution in his own country, Okwe has entered Britain illicitly and possesses no legal standing whatsoever. It is Okwe who stumbles on the plot device that connects human organs and fake passports: he learns that some of the hotel rooms are used as makeshift operation theaters where London's undocumented immigrants have their kidneys extracted in exchange for fake European passports. The procurer of both the willing kidney sellers and the counterfeit passports is his boss, a Spaniard named Señor Juan, appropriately nicknamed Sneaky by...
The hall porter is sent upstairs to repair a blocked toilet, and finds the source of the trouble: A human heart, stuck in the pipes. He asks about the recent occupants of the room, but nobody seems to know anything, not even the helpful hooker who acts like an unofficial member of the staff. The porter, a Nigerian named Okwe, takes it up with his boss, Sneaky, and is advised to mind his own business.
This is a splendid opening for a thriller, but "Dirty Pretty Things" is more than a genre picture. It uses the secret and malevolent activities at the hotel as the engine to drive a story about a London of immigrants, some illegal, who do the city's dirty work. Okwe (Chiwetel Ejiofor) was a doctor in Nigeria, is here as a political exile, has a past that haunts him. He rents couch space in the tiny flat of a chambermaid named Senay (Audrey Tautou, from "Amelie"), who is from Turkey, and fled an arranged marriage. His best friend Guo Yi (Benedict Wong) presides over poker games at the mortuary where he works. His circle also includes the doorman Ivan (Zlatko Buric) and the hooker Juliette (Sophie Okonedo). These characters and the vile night manager Sneaky are the major characters in the story, immigrants all, while white Londoners exist only as customers or immigration officials.
Okwe works hard at two jobs. He drives a minicab during the day, works all night at the hotel, buys illegal herbs at a local cafe to keep himself more or less awake. He is aware that Senay likes him and would not object if he moved from her couch to her bed, but he must be true to a wife in Nigeria; his faithfulness becomes more poignant the more we learn about the wife ("It is an African story," he says simply).
The heart of the movie, directed by Stephen Frears, is in the lives of these people. How they are always alert to make a little money on the side (as when Okwe and Ivan supply their own cash-only room service sandwiches after the hotel kitchen closes). How they live in constant fear of immigration officials, who want to deport them, even though a modern Western economy could not function without these shadow workers. How there is a network of contact and support in this hidden world, whose residents come from so many places and speak so many languages that they stop keeping score and simply accept each other as citizens of the land of exile.
We get to know these people and something of their lives, as Okwe stubbornly persists in trying to find out where that heart came from. He discovers that Sneaky is the key, and that the hotel is the center of a cruel enterprise which I will not reveal. The movie takes us into dark places in its closing scenes. But this is not a horror movie, not a shocker (although it is shocking). It is a story of desperation, of people who cannot live where they were born and cannot find a safe haven elsewhere.
This is familiar territory for Stephen Frears, an uncommonly intelligent director whose strength comes from his ability to empathize with his characters. They are not markers in a plot, but people he cares about. Two of his early films, "My Beautiful Laundrette" (1985) and "Sammy and Rosie Get laid" (1987), deal with the London of immigrants from India and Pakistan. He's fascinated by people who survive in cracks in the economy, as in two of his American films, "The Grifters" (1990) and "High Fidelity" (2000), one about con artists, the other set in a used record store.
Crucial to the success of "Dirty Pretty Things" is the performance by Chiwetel Ejiofor--who, I learn, was born in England and copied his Nigerian accent from his parents. A natural actor with leading-man presence, he has the rare ability to seem good without seeming sappy, and his quiet intensity here is deepened by the sense that his character carries great sadness from his past. Audrey Tautou isn't the first actress you'd think of to play the Turkish girl, but her wide-eyed sincerity is right for the role, and Sergi Lopez brings such crafty venality to his night manager that we suspect people must actually work in vile trades such as his.
The strength of the thriller genre is that it provides stories with built-in energy and structure. The weakness is that thrillers often seem to follow foreseeable formulas. Frears and his writer, Steve Knight, use the power of the thriller and avoid the weaknesses in giving us, really, two movies for the price of one.