Meanwhile, on the edge of Europe. Watch Greek crisis on #Berlinale

I must confess that the length of this epic documentary on the crisis in Greece made me hesitate for a moment. Just under five hours long, this tour of ordinary Greeks and immigrants stranded in that country. People who suddenly get very close and are allowed to tell what's on their minds. The feeling behind the dry news reports. An impressive experience precisely because of that longevity. Politicians and policymakers do not appear in it, except in an absurdist designed interlude. Programmed here at the Berlinale in the Panorama section, but certainly wouldn't have been out of place in this year's rather tame main competition. No regrets about the five hours.

High spirits

It had all got a bit out of hand, Canadian filmmaker Sylvain L'Espérance told me after the screening. He had started this project wondering whether the Arab Spring might also stir something in southern Europe. His research took him to Athens and he immediately felt this was the place to be.

Still without a definite plan, he started visiting and filming people, and as reality kept taking new, unexpected turns, the piece of work kept growing and growing. The material ultimately used was shot between 2013 and 2015, a time when tempers were running high, including around the referendum on whether or not to accept the European aid regime.

Desillusions

With Combat au bout de la nuit L'Espérance bluntly takes the point of view of the people hit hardest. He takes part in demonstrations, films cleaning workers protesting against their dismissal and singing to their feet, is in the thick of it when the ME hits hard, follows homeless people on their rounds of the dustbins, lets a doctor talk about the waste in health care, is there when a Roma camp is demolished and captures the conversations of disillusioned dockworkers wondering how it could have come this far. There is no explanatory commentary, though there are brief poetic reflections.

Immigrants

This mosaic also makes ample room for the immigrants and refugees stranded in Greece who find something very different there from what most had hoped for. That amiable former teacher from an African country (he dares not mention the name for the safety of his family) was still lucky. He gets his residence permit, but the pain he feels is no less. Bit by bit, we get to hear his story. How he understood too late that his carelessness had made him a suspect of the regime. How he was caught and managed to flee in the nick of time.

But this boy from Afghanistan, now in Greece illegally, tells how he had encountered Greek soldiers in his own country who swore to him that they came as friends. Where is that friend now, he wonders, as he struggles to survive on the streets. A boy from Africa regrets his journey. As a shepherd, he had a good life, but yes, then came the war. Another dreams of America. We are there when the packed rubber boats land on Lesbos, see how a man bursts into tears, but also how the children continue to have fun despite everything.

Battle songs

He attributes the fact that L'Espérance gained so much trust from everyone to, among other things, giving people space to really tell their stories. And while some scenes - I'm thinking of the battle songs raised by the cleaners - might not have needed to be in full length, it is precisely that calm, unhurried pace that makes you feel you are really there. The only ones we might miss, apart from a brief scene of a demonstration, are the people who have come to support the ultra-right-wing Golden Dawn.

That could be another film, L'Espérance replied when asked. 'But that's not my film.' To add that it is about people who have often lost all faith in politicians and other authorities. And there are plenty of those in his film.

You could say that the power of Combat au bout de la nuit precisely lies in the fact that it is not an objective account or detached analysis. Whether the word mafia is justified is not important. What we get to experience here is how it is experienced in the Greek, streets, squares, waiting rooms and workplaces. In fact, this should be compulsory viewing material for all concerned policymakers.

Remains the problem of how, with that awkward length, to get this inspired venture screened outside festivals. Yes, the maker himself is still struggling with that, he admitted. He does not rule out a re-edit in several parts. As a series on television itself seems like a good option to me, but you only get the immersive effect in the cinema. Like here at the Berlinale.