‘The Jammed’ is rendered important because it is one of the first fictional Australian-made films to deal with pockets of human-trade in our society, migrant females who are forced into prostitution. This is a topic that is different to the no less complex struggles and status of local, non-migrant sex-workers in Australia (whose stories are also sadly under-addressed in Australian cinema). Thus, despite its dramatic failings, ‘The Jammed’ might be seen as opening the door for better productions on ‘trafficking issues’ to follow, and done so through using recognisable Asian actors such as Lung who played an equally questionable half-Asian character, Steph, in ‘Peaches’ which garnered art-house critic approval.

The issue of poor cultural representation and stereotyping of Asianness does ask us to question why, in consulting with sex-workers for their story on trafficked women (if they did at all), did the filmmaker decide to compromise the ‘authenticity’ of the actors they used vis a vis the ethnicity of ALL the fictional characters. It is a necessary puzzle that cultural critics still need to unravel but to which this insightful and necessary critique raises many important starting points and questions. I would add, however, that the poor cultural stereotyping of the characters is also accompanied with what is an overly ‘clean’ picture of the violence and degradation that goes with forced prostitution, such as the scene where the women are taken to beach etc.

I was also not sure when to read the, at times, woodenness of the actors as bad cultural stereotyping of Asians, as the characters’ trauma-induced stammerings, or as just bad acting (yet I found some of their emotions believable and moving). I was also perhaps too easily ready to accept the portrayal of a mother who trafficked her daughter as being as vulnerable and socially awkward in a foreign country as she was portrayed. Alternatives exist but also might have also charted the dangerous territory of offering a self-destructive, addictive and greedy mother for example. How to portray grief-stricken and guilt burdened mothers who have ‘sold’ daughters is also something that filmmakers, reporters, researchers and many others have to struggle with. In addition, whilst the character Rubi’s interpretation of the ‘benefits’ of half-whites faring better in Shanghai also strips her of being more worldly or streetsmart, the circulation of ‘mixed’ race children on the global market does warrant some kind of inquiry as to whether mothers problematic beliefs about ‘half-whites’, amongst many other issues, does have a bearing on this situation.

For overseas alternatives on the lives of sex-workers, it is useful to turn to the “Documenting our Lives” (2001-2004) film project funded by The Global Alliance Against Traffic in Women (GAATW). This is a project in which groups of women were given training and equipment that allowed them to film their own stories, struggles and the evolving degrees of empowerment they achieve through solidarity with each other and relevant support groups. Titles include, ‘When We Walk the Streets’, ‘We are Women Too’ and ‘A Peep into the Silenced’.

For existing viewing on trafficking in Australia – I agree with the authors of this article that future efforts will be all the more important and worthy if they do their research, cast wisely and manage not to cross the line from dramatic realism to racial/cultural voyeurism.