Mister Rogers's famous advice to children to "look for the helpers" in moments of tragedy has brought comfort to countless individuals across multiple generations. During the COVID-19 pandemic, there was one helper in Toronto who caught the eye of many: Khaleel Seivwright. In a time of great uncertainty, when being a good neighbour held greater importance than usual, Seivwright saw an opportunity to give an assist to those in need.
Noticing the growing number of tents in Toronto's public parks, ravines and underpasses, Seivwright, using his own money, built what became known as "tiny shelters." Insulated wooden boxes, measuring in at seven-feet-nine-inches by three-feet-nine-inches, were designed by Seivwright to use the body heat of the occupant as the primary heat source to keep the temporary accommodation warm through the cold Toronto winter nights. Seivwright set up a GoFundMe page and would eventually build nearly 100 tiny shelters, placing them around the city for the unhoused.
Seivwright's efforts caught the eye of director Zack Russell, who approached the carpenter to make a documentary in October 2020 — something, by Russell's own admission, he had never considered making prior. It's clear what inspired Russell: the pandemic and ensuing lockdowns emphasized socioeconomic disparities in a way not quite felt before. As we were all being told to stay home, Seivwright attempted to give everyone that opportunity.
Someone Lives Here follows the expansion of Toronto Tiny Shelters from a one-man operation in Seivwright's garage to a 40-person volunteer crew and $200,000 in donations, thanks in large part to widespread media coverage across Canada and the US. But, of course, his story isn't only an inspirational tale of what one person's goodwill can do for a community: it's also a tale of government priorities and procedure.
Those familiar with Seivwright and his tiny shelters will recall that he was told by the City of Toronto to stop building the shelters and placing them on city property, as he didn't have a permit to do so, citing fire safety as the primary concern. Someone Lives Here offers the surprising addendum that, prior to this, someone from the City had actually contacted Seivwright in the hopes of a partnership. Whomever this naïve (and well-intentioned) soul was at City Hall, their efforts were for naught. The City would undertake a city-wide clearing of encampments and ultimately begin legal proceedings against Seivwright.
Russell may not have had aspirations to become a documentarian, but he sure has a natural knack for it. The film comes in at a lean 75 minutes, the perfect amount of time to tell Seivwright's story and explore the various angles to the greater issue of homelessness in Toronto. It's a simple thing, but particularly for a first-time documentary filmmaker, Russell shows a lot of restraint in not adding unnecessary pomp, ensuring the maximum impact is felt.
The Toronto-based filmmaker's storytelling abilities are displayed throughout the film. Cleverly, Russell opts to have Taka, a woman living in one of Seivwright's tiny shelters, narrate the film using what sounds like clips from an interview the director had with her spliced throughout. Her straightforward and honest account of what it's like to sleep rough, the conditions of shelters in the city and the significance of Seivwright's work serve as an emotional guide throughout Someone Lives Here to remind audiences of the people and humanity behind the headlines and activism.
While Mister Rogers's advice is heartwarming in moments of hardship and sadness, it's becoming abundantly clear that our society's social welfare system is broken. Someone Lives Here exemplifies the desperate frustration behind Toronto, Tiny Shelters and Seivwright's journey, leaving us (and I can only assume Seivwright himself) disheartened and understandably disillusioned.
Towards the end of the film, Taka states, "Khaleel is one person. He cannot warm up the whole universe." Here's hoping that, in spite of the seemingly impossible odds, there are more neighbours like Seivwright out there ready and willing to fight the good fight.
Hot Docs Festival 2023 runs from April 27 to May 7. Get information about showtimes and tickets at the festival's website.
(LaRue Entertainment)Noticing the growing number of tents in Toronto's public parks, ravines and underpasses, Seivwright, using his own money, built what became known as "tiny shelters." Insulated wooden boxes, measuring in at seven-feet-nine-inches by three-feet-nine-inches, were designed by Seivwright to use the body heat of the occupant as the primary heat source to keep the temporary accommodation warm through the cold Toronto winter nights. Seivwright set up a GoFundMe page and would eventually build nearly 100 tiny shelters, placing them around the city for the unhoused.
Seivwright's efforts caught the eye of director Zack Russell, who approached the carpenter to make a documentary in October 2020 — something, by Russell's own admission, he had never considered making prior. It's clear what inspired Russell: the pandemic and ensuing lockdowns emphasized socioeconomic disparities in a way not quite felt before. As we were all being told to stay home, Seivwright attempted to give everyone that opportunity.
Someone Lives Here follows the expansion of Toronto Tiny Shelters from a one-man operation in Seivwright's garage to a 40-person volunteer crew and $200,000 in donations, thanks in large part to widespread media coverage across Canada and the US. But, of course, his story isn't only an inspirational tale of what one person's goodwill can do for a community: it's also a tale of government priorities and procedure.
Those familiar with Seivwright and his tiny shelters will recall that he was told by the City of Toronto to stop building the shelters and placing them on city property, as he didn't have a permit to do so, citing fire safety as the primary concern. Someone Lives Here offers the surprising addendum that, prior to this, someone from the City had actually contacted Seivwright in the hopes of a partnership. Whomever this naïve (and well-intentioned) soul was at City Hall, their efforts were for naught. The City would undertake a city-wide clearing of encampments and ultimately begin legal proceedings against Seivwright.
Russell may not have had aspirations to become a documentarian, but he sure has a natural knack for it. The film comes in at a lean 75 minutes, the perfect amount of time to tell Seivwright's story and explore the various angles to the greater issue of homelessness in Toronto. It's a simple thing, but particularly for a first-time documentary filmmaker, Russell shows a lot of restraint in not adding unnecessary pomp, ensuring the maximum impact is felt.
The Toronto-based filmmaker's storytelling abilities are displayed throughout the film. Cleverly, Russell opts to have Taka, a woman living in one of Seivwright's tiny shelters, narrate the film using what sounds like clips from an interview the director had with her spliced throughout. Her straightforward and honest account of what it's like to sleep rough, the conditions of shelters in the city and the significance of Seivwright's work serve as an emotional guide throughout Someone Lives Here to remind audiences of the people and humanity behind the headlines and activism.
While Mister Rogers's advice is heartwarming in moments of hardship and sadness, it's becoming abundantly clear that our society's social welfare system is broken. Someone Lives Here exemplifies the desperate frustration behind Toronto, Tiny Shelters and Seivwright's journey, leaving us (and I can only assume Seivwright himself) disheartened and understandably disillusioned.
Towards the end of the film, Taka states, "Khaleel is one person. He cannot warm up the whole universe." Here's hoping that, in spite of the seemingly impossible odds, there are more neighbours like Seivwright out there ready and willing to fight the good fight.
Hot Docs Festival 2023 runs from April 27 to May 7. Get information about showtimes and tickets at the festival's website.
