Zhang Lu’s focus is on the objects exist in the landscape, rather than the landscape itself. In this film, his focuses on the struggles of immigrant laborers in Korea. Their presence is identified in the street landscapes of Guro-dong, Garibong-dong, Sillim-dong in Seoul, and Ansan in Kyeongki-do. This documentary suggests us to break our strides and observe their daily lives for a while. The camera looks into them patiently, and delivers their voices in a deliberate manner. Some of them talk about their unsuccessful attempts to adapt to their newly-gained lives, and remind us how their struggles for hope ended up in vain. The camera avoids commenting and tries to intensify their presence by calling them out from being hidden in the landscape to the center of the images. That is how the director expresses solidarity with the strangers. What is weird is that the familiar landscapes to which they are belong to seems utterly strange to us. We’ve been objectifying ourselves, as well as we’ve been doing so to them. Though depicting the landscape of Korea as a cruel, merciless space, the documentary holds both grief and compassion.