Debut: ‘Out There’ Takes a Unique Approach to Documentary

“I was at a point in life where I was like, ‘Do I want to stay starving, or do something and actually start eating?’”

Out There, a short film for Nowness directed by Alex Donaldson, examines county lines drug trafficking in the UK through interviews with three young Black Londoners. 

The young people are never named in the six-minute film, nor are their ages revealed. Rather, Donaldson overlays their voices with scenes of their daily lives and environment, following the youth as they walk through abandoned and dilapidated streets to the smoking, dimly lit basements. 

They describe their day-to-day lives as foot soldier drug traffickers, with interviews alternating between each person. Descriptions of risky drug deals join recollections of difficult childhoods and poverty that motivated their entry into the industry. Shaky shots and dark color grading paired with film grain create unease in the viewer, especially as the camera creeps through dangerous alleyways. 

The documentary does not feature narration, nor does it provide audiences with a primer on the state of drug trafficking in the UK. It is through the testimony of those featured that the viewer pieces together their experiences to form a part of a larger whole. Out There is not a comprehensive documentary, nor does it necessarily inform the viewer of its topic. But absent statistics or even explanations, Donaldson deftly paints a picture of the institutional failures that led those featured in the film into drug trafficking. 

They describe childhoods spent in poverty, strict and, at times, stiflingly religious households, and a normalization of hustle culture among their peers. Reenactments of experiences described by the interviewees punctuate the candid shots, giving viewers a look at the danger of the drug trade, and the environments that led to it. 

Though their stories are different and their backgrounds diverse, each young person describes the struggles that saw them dip their toes into trafficking. 

“I’m part of thirteen siblings, and my dad left us when we were very young,” says one person. “My mum, she couldn’t afford a lot of stuff. . . All my friends are not working jobs, going out, having fun. And I had no freedom, coming from a very strict Muslim family.”

“I was playing [basketball] at Academy level, but then things didn’t go my way. . . That’s where I kind of went down,” says another. “When I turned [it] down, that’s when he was like, ‘I know your family. I know where you live.’”

As the interviews continue, even absent an orienting narration, the viewer develops not only an understanding, but empathy for these youth. Donaldson writes,

“[U]nderstanding of county lines drug trafficking has begun to offer a new explanation for children and teenagers reported missing across the country. Less likely to be the target of police suspicion, the process through which drug networks manipulate youth accomplices into their operations sees them transported outside of their home cities, hidden from view in the UK’s suburbs and coastal towns.”

With his unique style of documentary, Donaldson imparts a deeper understanding of the issue than a traditional investigative film would. Audiences without outside knowledge of the subject may not leave Out There knowing the statistics or details of the UK’s drug scene, but they will have an understanding of the processes, both individual and structural, that keep young people in its grasp. Despite never being introduced, the people featured in the film are humanized. Though absent of names, they are certainly given a voice. 

Out There is not a film for those who seek to learn about its subject from a journalistic, statistical, or geopolitical perspective –– instead, it is a film for those who want to learn about the foot soldiers themselves and their experiences, through which the issue is more comprehensively understood. Even without numbers or explanations, Out There is an important addition to the conversation, one that provides a unique and human angle to an issue too frequently reduced to its numbers.