Your maddog correspondent was pleased and bewildered to find himself rubbing shoulders recently with a disproportionately large number of dishonourable ermine-clad expense-fiddlers, convicted criminals, and fraudsters, as I made my way to the workspace of the nation’s Lords, Ladies, and MPs: namely Portcullis House. Far from looking like a prison, the building most resembles a large horrible mock-tudor experiment, airlifted and dropped opposite Big Ben, providing extravagant humidity-controlled offices, a large restaurant in the plush green foyer, and, running along the side of the building, large meeting rooms for coup plotters, resistance groups, and, occasionally, documentary film screenings. After passing a large oil painting of Tony Blair, I found myself in one of these large rooms, ready for a preview screening of ‘Disarm’, a recently released anti-landmine documentary, organised by IndiePix, the Independent films distributor, and the All Party Landmine Eradication Group (APLEG).

‘Disarm’ co-directed by anti-landmine campaigner Mary Wareham, and photojournalist Brian Liu, focuses on the continuing problems of enforcing anti-landmine legislation, and the personal stories that are caused by the use of landmines, listening to victims, de-miners who spend time meticulously removing them, and those who planted them. The film looks at the different situations across the world, in the Thai / Burmese border, in Bosnia, Afghanistan, Colombia, Belarus, and in Iraq. An interview with anti-landmine campaigner Jody Williams runs throughout the film, and brings the different situations together. Williams, who won the Nobel Peace Prize for helping to introduce the antipersonnel landmine treaty in 1997, talks passionately about the need to convince governments and individuals to avoid using landmines, and how landmines are ‘a prism for viewing the politics of the world’.

Many of the personal stories that complement this narrative are powerful, with the best examples being unexpected finds: the stern-looking commanding officer of a Belarus army base, who despite the refusal of his interfering near neighbours, Russia, to sign the anti-landmine treaty, is under strict orders to blow up his landmines, and cheerfully does so, openly talking about ‘peace on earth’. Another good example is a doctor, Alberto Cairo, who pleads with the cameras

for people to stop sending him wheelchairs: what he needs is prosthetic limbs, as wheelchairs are impractical and useless in the harsh physical environment he is based in, in Afghanistan. Some of the victims simply deliver a powerful emotional impact: a young twelve year-old girl in Colombia refuses to discuss how she sustained her injuries, and her silence is strong and powerful.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the film was the interviews with those who defuse landmines, known as deminers, in Bosnia. It turns out many of them actually planted the mines in the first place, and are now using their knowledge to get rid of them. Getting rid of landmines, and clearing areas, is the most painstaking, and slow part of the process, and it would have been good to have seen more of their situation. One other weakness of the film is its age: the film was shot over five years ago, and as such, some parts of it – such as its criticism of the Bush administration – seem outdated. US, Russia and China all have refused to sign up to the landmine treaty, and this is well-covered in the film, but it would have been nice to hear about prospective plans from the Obama administration too. After the screening, the director Mary Wareham said that the new position may not be made clear for a further three years: it would have been good to see this followed up in the film.

Perhaps then, the political message is not completely up to date: but this doesn’t detract too much from the emotional impact of the film, and the good overview of the global situation that it provides. Former MP Martin Bell and Mary Wareham were both asked at the end of the screening whether landmines were the only weapons they were interested in campaigning against – both replied not, and suggested handheld rapid-fire weapons might be next on the campaigning agenda, moving slowly step-by-step.

It was surely an ironic joke too far, when after the screening, on the way out of Portcullis House, the local plod was stood at the exit holding a very large sub-automatic machine gun, nonchalantly wishing Lords, Ladies, MPs, and your very own maddog correspondent a very good night…

Disarm is available from IndiePix.

Words > Stephen Sharrock