Certain subjects, due to heightened media coverage, can lead to a degree of desensitisation among the public. That’s not something we want, since empathy is essential for a balanced society – but apathy does have a tendency to set in if we allow it. For filmmakers who want to tackle these topics, one of the biggest challenges lies in eliciting genuine concern from their audience. Achieving this often requires presenting familiar issues in a fresh and compelling way – which is exactly what director Xenia Glen achieves with her story of an undocumented worker in the UK, Alo.An experimental mixed-media short, Alo opens with a close-up of ants crawling across a flower before plunging into jittery, abstract animation paired with a disorienting soundtrack. As we emerge – somewhat confused – from this unexpected exposition, the film cuts to its protagonist rising unsteadily from the floor, nose bloodied, the once-confrontational soundscape now silent. It takes a moment for us, the audience, to piece together what we’ve witnessed, but as clarity sets in, we’re drawn into the situation at the heart of Glen’s film.“The live-action shoot took place in a single location in London over two days, the animation production took place in India, and most of the post was done in Dorset.” – Glen discussing the production.As the central character struggles to recover from what soon becomes clear is a medical episode, we begin to take in his surroundings – a cramped house shared with other undocumented workers. The film cuts between frenetic animation and staggering live-action shots of Alo in distress, making the gravity of his situation impossible to ignore. When the subtitles flash “call 999 we’ll all leave,” the central dilemma crystallises, grounding the film’s visceral style in a moment of urgent, human tension.“I wanted to make a film that expressed a day-in-the-life of a migrant worker suffering with a non-visible disability”, Glen explains, reflecting on her motivation to shed light on this often-overlooked experience. Drawing from her own background “as a disabled person living with undocumented Filipinos as a child,” she hopes Alo will “raise awareness of this way of life” both in the UK and beyond.“I wanted to utilise the animation and sound design to recreate my internal symptoms of having seizures”As mentioned in my intro, while this is an important subject, engaging audiences with a theme that has appeared in many cinematic forms requires a fresh perspective – and Glen certainly delivers. Through a striking combination of live-action footage, experimental animation, and an assaultive soundtrack, she reinvigorates the conversation – not only around the experiences of undocumented workers, but also the realities of non-visible disabilities.“I wanted to utilise the animation and sound design to recreate my internal symptoms of having seizures,” the director explains when discussing the film’s production. Collaborating with RCA graduate Sanjana Chandrasekhar, Glen shared detailed accounts of her experiences during seizures, which inspired Chandrasekhar to develop “an animation technique involving physically altering pieces of film.” Meanwhile, sound designer (and co-writer) Antosh Wojcik translated those same sensations into the film’s visceral audio landscape.Watching Alo on the big screen at the recent Encounters Film Festival, I was genuinely blown away by the filmmaking on display. When screening shorts with the hope of featuring them on S/W, I’m always looking to be surprised by something that feels truly new and distinctive – and Glen’s film is exactly that, without ever tipping into mere visual gimmickry. Its style is essential to its message, and if the filmmaker’s goal was to place her audience in the fragile position of her characters, I can’t think of a more powerful way to achieve it.