A scene from "Sorry We Missed You," a film by Ken Loach based on the play by Paul Laverty. (Photo: Zeitgeist Films)
Apr 14, 2020
Director Ken Loach has done it again. "Sorry We Missed You" is a family drama infused with a searing look at life in the "gig economy" with a frayed social safety net. Like his previous film, "I, Daniel Blake," this film is about working class people maintaining their dignity and humanity in the face of government austerity, privatization, and corporate greed.
"Sorry We Missed You" was just released in the U.S. through affiliated independent theaters, such as our Boston area Coolidge Corner. A portion of the ticket price through virtual screenings support these theaters.
In the context of a pandemic, "Sorry" connects us to the lives of front-line workers that are delivering packages and caring for the elderly and disabled, yet are grossly underpaid and at greatest risk.
Set in Newcastle, UK, the film takes its name from the package delivery slip that Ricky, the father in a family of four, leaves when no one is home to sign for a package.
Like most workers in the U.S. and UK, Ricky and his spouse Abbie are still struggling to get out of debt a decade after the 2008 economic meltdown. Abbie works as a home care nurse, hopping buses between visits to up to eight patients a day. Ricky takes a job as a driver with a package delivery service. Both work hard and with integrity, with Abbie saying caring for her patients "how she'd like people to treat her own mother."
Like Uber and Door-Dash drivers, and other delivery services, Ricky's employment status is in the limbo between employee and independent owner. Maloney, the boss man who manages the package distribution facility, makes it clear: Ricky isn't an employee, but a "franchisee," a self-employed delivery driver, requiring him to take on all the risks, including purchasing a van, leasing a delivery scanner, and toiling unlimited hours. The scanner serves as the symbol of the surveillance economy that enables the company to monitor Ricky's every turn. Yet the company also fines him for late deliveries and, when robbers smash Ricky's delivery scanner, they assess him a PS1,000 charge.
Ricky and Abbie attempt to mind their two children, Seb and Lisa Jane, often via phone and text. The children absorb the stresses of their parents, who are working twelve to sixteen hours to survive.
As director, Loach balances a family story while dramatizing the structural forces driving the gig economy and how workers are pitted against each other. When one delivery driver struggles with family issues, the boss Maloney offers his route up to other drivers. Breaching the thin whisper of solidarity between the drivers, Ricky takes the other driver's more lucrative route. Meanwhile, one of Abbie's nursing patients shares photos and stories from her struggles as a labor union activist, a reminder of the past solidarity that existed among workers. "What happened to the eight-hour day?" she asks.
Maloney celebrates his own tough-guy unwillingness to bend to meet Ricky's need for an emergency day off, saying the "shareholders of the trucking depot should build a [expletive] statue of me here." Maloney also blames the customers, saying to Ricky, "do any of them ask you how you are? They just want their package delivered on time for as cheap as possible." We have met the enemy, and it is in part the consumer who expects to pay less and get it now, with no understanding of the social costs of convenience.
In the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic, we are more dependent than ever on those who drive the delivery trucks, who bring the packages, who stock the shelves, and attend to those in need.
"Sorry We Missed You" dramatizes why we need a system where all workers have universal health insurance, living wages, and paid family leave. And we need stronger protections against employers who are restructuring their enterprises to extract more wealth while shifting costs on to workers and the rest of us.
Join Us: News for people demanding a better world
Common Dreams is powered by optimists who believe in the power of informed and engaged citizens to ignite and enact change to make the world a better place. We're hundreds of thousands strong, but every single supporter makes the difference. Your contribution supports this bold media model—free, independent, and dedicated to reporting the facts every day. Stand with us in the fight for economic equality, social justice, human rights, and a more sustainable future. As a people-powered nonprofit news outlet, we cover the issues the corporate media never will. |
Our work is licensed under Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-ND 3.0). Feel free to republish and share widely.
Chuck Collins
Chuck Collins is a senior scholar at the Institute for Policy Studies where he co-edits Inequality.org. His near future novel "Altar to An Erupting Sun” explores one community’s response to climate disruption. He is author of numerous books and reports on inequality and the racial wealth divide, including “The Wealth Hoarders: How Billionaires Spend Millions to Hide Trillions,” “Born on Third Base,” and, with Bill Gates Sr., of “Wealth and Our Commonwealth: Why American Should Tax Accumulated Fortunes.” See more of his writing at www.chuckcollinswrites.com
Director Ken Loach has done it again. "Sorry We Missed You" is a family drama infused with a searing look at life in the "gig economy" with a frayed social safety net. Like his previous film, "I, Daniel Blake," this film is about working class people maintaining their dignity and humanity in the face of government austerity, privatization, and corporate greed.
"Sorry We Missed You" was just released in the U.S. through affiliated independent theaters, such as our Boston area Coolidge Corner. A portion of the ticket price through virtual screenings support these theaters.
In the context of a pandemic, "Sorry" connects us to the lives of front-line workers that are delivering packages and caring for the elderly and disabled, yet are grossly underpaid and at greatest risk.
Set in Newcastle, UK, the film takes its name from the package delivery slip that Ricky, the father in a family of four, leaves when no one is home to sign for a package.
Like most workers in the U.S. and UK, Ricky and his spouse Abbie are still struggling to get out of debt a decade after the 2008 economic meltdown. Abbie works as a home care nurse, hopping buses between visits to up to eight patients a day. Ricky takes a job as a driver with a package delivery service. Both work hard and with integrity, with Abbie saying caring for her patients "how she'd like people to treat her own mother."
Like Uber and Door-Dash drivers, and other delivery services, Ricky's employment status is in the limbo between employee and independent owner. Maloney, the boss man who manages the package distribution facility, makes it clear: Ricky isn't an employee, but a "franchisee," a self-employed delivery driver, requiring him to take on all the risks, including purchasing a van, leasing a delivery scanner, and toiling unlimited hours. The scanner serves as the symbol of the surveillance economy that enables the company to monitor Ricky's every turn. Yet the company also fines him for late deliveries and, when robbers smash Ricky's delivery scanner, they assess him a PS1,000 charge.
Ricky and Abbie attempt to mind their two children, Seb and Lisa Jane, often via phone and text. The children absorb the stresses of their parents, who are working twelve to sixteen hours to survive.
As director, Loach balances a family story while dramatizing the structural forces driving the gig economy and how workers are pitted against each other. When one delivery driver struggles with family issues, the boss Maloney offers his route up to other drivers. Breaching the thin whisper of solidarity between the drivers, Ricky takes the other driver's more lucrative route. Meanwhile, one of Abbie's nursing patients shares photos and stories from her struggles as a labor union activist, a reminder of the past solidarity that existed among workers. "What happened to the eight-hour day?" she asks.
Maloney celebrates his own tough-guy unwillingness to bend to meet Ricky's need for an emergency day off, saying the "shareholders of the trucking depot should build a [expletive] statue of me here." Maloney also blames the customers, saying to Ricky, "do any of them ask you how you are? They just want their package delivered on time for as cheap as possible." We have met the enemy, and it is in part the consumer who expects to pay less and get it now, with no understanding of the social costs of convenience.
In the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic, we are more dependent than ever on those who drive the delivery trucks, who bring the packages, who stock the shelves, and attend to those in need.
"Sorry We Missed You" dramatizes why we need a system where all workers have universal health insurance, living wages, and paid family leave. And we need stronger protections against employers who are restructuring their enterprises to extract more wealth while shifting costs on to workers and the rest of us.
Chuck Collins
Chuck Collins is a senior scholar at the Institute for Policy Studies where he co-edits Inequality.org. His near future novel "Altar to An Erupting Sun” explores one community’s response to climate disruption. He is author of numerous books and reports on inequality and the racial wealth divide, including “The Wealth Hoarders: How Billionaires Spend Millions to Hide Trillions,” “Born on Third Base,” and, with Bill Gates Sr., of “Wealth and Our Commonwealth: Why American Should Tax Accumulated Fortunes.” See more of his writing at www.chuckcollinswrites.com
Director Ken Loach has done it again. "Sorry We Missed You" is a family drama infused with a searing look at life in the "gig economy" with a frayed social safety net. Like his previous film, "I, Daniel Blake," this film is about working class people maintaining their dignity and humanity in the face of government austerity, privatization, and corporate greed.
"Sorry We Missed You" was just released in the U.S. through affiliated independent theaters, such as our Boston area Coolidge Corner. A portion of the ticket price through virtual screenings support these theaters.
In the context of a pandemic, "Sorry" connects us to the lives of front-line workers that are delivering packages and caring for the elderly and disabled, yet are grossly underpaid and at greatest risk.
Set in Newcastle, UK, the film takes its name from the package delivery slip that Ricky, the father in a family of four, leaves when no one is home to sign for a package.
Like most workers in the U.S. and UK, Ricky and his spouse Abbie are still struggling to get out of debt a decade after the 2008 economic meltdown. Abbie works as a home care nurse, hopping buses between visits to up to eight patients a day. Ricky takes a job as a driver with a package delivery service. Both work hard and with integrity, with Abbie saying caring for her patients "how she'd like people to treat her own mother."
Like Uber and Door-Dash drivers, and other delivery services, Ricky's employment status is in the limbo between employee and independent owner. Maloney, the boss man who manages the package distribution facility, makes it clear: Ricky isn't an employee, but a "franchisee," a self-employed delivery driver, requiring him to take on all the risks, including purchasing a van, leasing a delivery scanner, and toiling unlimited hours. The scanner serves as the symbol of the surveillance economy that enables the company to monitor Ricky's every turn. Yet the company also fines him for late deliveries and, when robbers smash Ricky's delivery scanner, they assess him a PS1,000 charge.
Ricky and Abbie attempt to mind their two children, Seb and Lisa Jane, often via phone and text. The children absorb the stresses of their parents, who are working twelve to sixteen hours to survive.
As director, Loach balances a family story while dramatizing the structural forces driving the gig economy and how workers are pitted against each other. When one delivery driver struggles with family issues, the boss Maloney offers his route up to other drivers. Breaching the thin whisper of solidarity between the drivers, Ricky takes the other driver's more lucrative route. Meanwhile, one of Abbie's nursing patients shares photos and stories from her struggles as a labor union activist, a reminder of the past solidarity that existed among workers. "What happened to the eight-hour day?" she asks.
Maloney celebrates his own tough-guy unwillingness to bend to meet Ricky's need for an emergency day off, saying the "shareholders of the trucking depot should build a [expletive] statue of me here." Maloney also blames the customers, saying to Ricky, "do any of them ask you how you are? They just want their package delivered on time for as cheap as possible." We have met the enemy, and it is in part the consumer who expects to pay less and get it now, with no understanding of the social costs of convenience.
In the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic, we are more dependent than ever on those who drive the delivery trucks, who bring the packages, who stock the shelves, and attend to those in need.
"Sorry We Missed You" dramatizes why we need a system where all workers have universal health insurance, living wages, and paid family leave. And we need stronger protections against employers who are restructuring their enterprises to extract more wealth while shifting costs on to workers and the rest of us.
We've had enough. The 1% own and operate the corporate media. They are doing everything they can to defend the status quo, squash dissent and protect the wealthy and the powerful. The Common Dreams media model is different. We cover the news that matters to the 99%. Our mission? To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. How? Nonprofit. Independent. Reader-supported. Free to read. Free to republish. Free to share. With no advertising. No paywalls. No selling of your data. Thousands of small donations fund our newsroom and allow us to continue publishing. Can you chip in? We can't do it without you. Thank you.