The Uncomfortable Mirror: How ‘American Doctor’ Forces Us to Confront Our Complicity
There’s a moment in American Doctor that haunts me long after the credits roll. It’s not the graphic footage of children shredded by US-made bombs—though that’s undeniably gut-wrenching. No, what lingers is the silence in Mark Perlmutter’s living room as Poh Si Teng grapples with whether to include the most brutal scenes in her film. Perlmutter, a Jewish orthopedic surgeon, turns to her with a face taut from moral outrage and demands, ‘Why are you here if you won’t show the truth?’
Personally, I think this exchange encapsulates the film’s core: it’s not just about Gaza; it’s about us. About the discomfort we’re willing—or unwilling—to face. Teng, a Malaysian-American filmmaker, didn’t just make a documentary; she crafted a mirror. And it’s a mirror many Americans would rather avoid.
Why Medical Dramas? A Genius Move
Teng’s decision to frame the story through the lens of medical drama is, in my opinion, genius. She understands that Americans are desensitized to geopolitical conflicts but remain deeply invested in the human stories of doctors and patients. Grey’s Anatomy meets Gaza—it’s a risky move, but it works. What makes this particularly fascinating is how she subverts the genre. There’s no neat resolution, no heroic save at the last minute. Instead, there’s chaos, grief, and the relentless reality of a collapsing healthcare system.
From my perspective, this approach forces viewers to confront the humanity of the crisis. It’s not just about bombs and borders; it’s about doctors like Thaer Ahmad, who walks out of a meeting with President Biden during Ramadan, or Feroze Sidhwa, who volunteers in Gaza only to be blocked by Israeli authorities. These aren’t characters in a script—they’re real people, and their stories demand our attention.
The Guilt We Can’t Ignore
One thing that immediately stands out is Teng’s insistence on bringing the message home. She’s not just documenting the destruction in Gaza; she’s asking Americans to reckon with their role in it. ‘Are we okay with rats gnawing at children’s faces?’ she asks. It’s a brutal question, but it’s necessary.
What many people don’t realize is how deeply complicit we are. The bombs, the military aid, the political silence—it’s all funded by American taxpayers. Sidhwa puts it bluntly: ‘When you unleash the entire might of the American and Israeli military on a place the size of Kyiv, it’s going to be destroyed.’ If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just a foreign policy issue; it’s a moral one.
The Power of Witness
What this really suggests is that the film’s strength lies in its witnesses. These aren’t activists or politicians; they’re doctors. Their professional standing gives their testimony weight, making it harder to dismiss as propaganda. Perlmutter’s bluntness, Ahmad’s strategic outrage, and Sidhwa’s cool analysis form a trifecta of perspectives that’s impossible to ignore.
A detail that I find especially interesting is Sidhwa’s initial skepticism. ‘Nobody cares,’ he tells Teng when she first approaches him. But he’s wrong. The film has resonated deeply, particularly on the festival circuit. Why? Because it doesn’t just show us horror; it forces us to ask, ‘What have we done—or not done?’
The Broader Implications: Beyond Gaza
This raises a deeper question: What happens when we’re confronted with our own complicity? Teng’s film isn’t just about Gaza; it’s about the machinery of power, the media’s role in sanitizing violence, and our collective willingness to look away. ‘People don’t think of our bombs doing the same thing Russian bombs do,’ Sidhwa notes. ‘They just don’t think of it.’
In my opinion, this is the film’s most profound achievement. It doesn’t let us off the hook. It doesn’t offer easy answers or moral absolutes. Instead, it challenges us to look in the mirror and ask, ‘Can we accept what we’ve done?’
Final Thoughts: A Film That Demands Action
If there’s one takeaway from American Doctor, it’s this: awareness isn’t enough. Teng’s film isn’t just a call to witness; it’s a call to act. Whether it’s advocating for a ceasefire, supporting healthcare workers, or simply refusing to look away, the film demands that we engage.
Personally, I think this is what makes it so uncomfortable—and so necessary. It’s not just a documentary; it’s a challenge. And in a world where it’s easier to scroll past the horror, that’s exactly what we need.
American Doctor is out in US cinemas now and in the UK on 20 November. Watch it. But more importantly, let it change you.
