The film fox Ken Loach's breakthrough and now almost classic stamped film Kes – falken celebrates 50 years this year, which feels extra fitting when he is now back in old good shape. After more or less easily digested titles such as the Angels' share and (Cannes winner) I, Daniel Blake, he smokes with a tangible and memorable piece of British life, which causes it to carve into the coffin.
He (and in recent decades scriptwriter Paul Laverty) always, regardless of the mood of the story, stands on the little man's side toward a social system that sucks the must and life out of her, but it was a long time since it hurt to see a Loach movie.
Here it is about the so-called gig economy, which is being talked about more and more nowadays, and which is defined differently depending on who you ask. For many employers, this is a positive development where you only pay fees for the gig / assignments that someone performs. No employer contribution, no financially burdensome sickness or unemployment benefits. No responsibility.
Company Loach & Laverty does not really see it with the same gentle eyes, but paints a highly credible picture of what is going on in the backwater of the empathetic labor market.
The small nuclear family Turner lives in a rented apartment, has a life that almost just goes together. Mum Abbie works on a highly regulated home service where she only gets paid for the exact time she is with her "clients", not for the journey between them, nor for the extra time she sometimes has to spend on helping the dependent who are dependent. of her help. Humanity cannot be measured and therefore not paid.
Dad Ricky works as a self-employed entrepreneur for a messenger company whose ingenious gig-financial arrangement means that all riders end up in debt and are forced to work 14 hours a day, six days a week to get it together. Parents' constant tiring outside the home causes their children to feel ill at home and at school and ... yes, it's so damn dark. And then it is still about people who have food on the table and roof over their heads.
With small key scenes , nicely mixed with short little everyday details, Loach & Laverty familiarize us with all four, and it only in 100 minutes. Okay, it's clear that we don't get the whole psychological picture of the quartet, but enough to understand, to be holy cursed: as often as I end up in front of a pathos-filled Loach work, a red banner grows out of my fontanel.
Sure, the dynamic left duo sometimes gets a little demagogic at times, but at the same time is so gifted in the art of casting life in his role characters that some ambiguities are excused.
In addition, they have an outstanding ability to create full commitment to fair life, thanks in large part to an actress who is always of the highest class: naturalistic and with total presence - despite many roles being filled by amateurs. A few scenes at the consistent end turn the knife in the soul another turn. The filmmaker's car has never been as defiant as this.
The title Sorry we missed you owns a possible ambiguity. On the one hand, it is the words on the note that the messenger puts in the parcel recipients' mailbox if the person concerned is not home and receives their shipment. But it also (probably) also refers to the large part of the population that may remain on the platform as the gig economy's exit train leaves the station.