This monologue from The Life & Death of Colonel Blimp from 1943, contains so much pain and pathos within it. Delivered with such simple yet effective power by Anton Walbrook, a brilliant actor, so often shamefully overlooked. It gives voice, not just to a refugees plight, but their viewpoint on what its like to be a refugee in a country that can't quite accept that your reason for being here is genuine and not duplicitous. It speaks quite powerfully over seventy years later to those contemporary sour minds and ungenerous hearts, who wouldn't recognise empathy even if it slapped them across their increasingly smug faces.
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