All language subtitles for The.Man.Who.Fell.From.The.Sky.2021.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

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In 2015, a stowaway
fell to his death in London.

Official YIFY movies site:
YTS.MX

He'd been hiding with a friend in
the wheel well of a plane.

His death made worldwide headlines,

but his life was a complete mystery.

I set out to discover who he was,

why he had taken on such a perilous
journey

and what happened on that plane.

For five years, I searched
obsessively for the one man

who could answer all my questions.

The one man who,
against all the odds,

had survived the most
extreme journey ever made.

I'm Rich Bentley.

I've spent 15 years making
documentaries all around the world.

Five years ago, I chanced upon
a little-known story of people

trying to come to the UK by the most
dangerous means -

clinging to the landing gear
of planes.

ARCHIVE NEWS: As the plane flew over
this street on approach to landing,

that's the point at which the wheels
were lowered and he fell.

As I started to look into it,

I became aware of a chilling
phenomenon.

The body was found
in a British Airways Boeing 747

which arrived at Gatwick Airport
this morning from Nairobi.

He fell to his death as the wheels
were lowered

above this west London gasworks.

I couldn't begin to understand
what it must be like to cling

to the undercarriage of a plane

or what would force anyone to
attempt something so dangerous.

At 18,000 feet,

aviation experts say hypoxia,
or oxygen deprivation, sets in.

At 22,000 feet,
with no pressurisation,

the lungs have trouble functioning.

It's tough to maintain
consciousness.

At 35,000 feet, hypothermia would
set in,

as the temperature can drop as low
as -81 degrees Fahrenheit.

I learned there have been 109
recorded attempts made

across the world.

And that London is the most common
destination, with 16 wheel-well

stowaways in the last 25 years.

There was little information
available beyond these grim news

reports, so I met with witnesses
to some of these events to see

what else I could find out.

We looked out of the window

and we saw this young black
guy laying there.

His head was on the kerb
and there was brain matter spread

across the pavement and on some
of the cars.

You can imagine the fear,

all of a sudden, realising
that the air up there's thin,

freezing, rather like being on top
of Mount Everest.

It happened just along here,
by this wall here.

And it was in the morning, right?

It was, except it was Sunday, so
it's probably a little quieter. OK.

No children going to school,
thank goodness.

Well, it isn't the first time
we've had people falling

out of airplanes in this area,

because as you can probably see,

the airplanes open their
undercarriage around about now.

As soon as I got here and saw
the state of the body,

he was mangled, there was a lot of
blood splattering.

Some of his brains was on the car
over there.

You know, I know, from the number
of bodies I've seen,

he had dropped out of the sky.

The most affluent part of London,
he lost his life in a car park.

All of these deaths had happened

just a couple of miles away
from my home.

And I was surprised I'd never heard
about them before, especially

as immigration dominated the news.

Coastguards around the UK
are stepping up their searches

in light of reports of migrants
trying to sneak into Britain.

3,000 migrants, who have been camped
out in Calais, hop on board

those lorries as they attempt
to get to Britain.

The electorate are generally not
that keen on immigration.

We don't have the housing

or the National Health Service
to deal with it.

More than one million refugees

and migrants have entered
Europe in 2015.

Amidst the biggest human migration
since the Second World War,

hiding in the wheel well of a plane
was the most drastic of any journey

that could be made.

To understand how this was possible,

I met with a pilot who knew
all too well.

In 1996, Mike Post
was landing this very plane

at Heathrow when a stowaway
fell from the wheel well.

This was the first death
of its kind recorded in the UK.

It was the middle of the night
when we took off from Delhi.

On this occasion, we were held
for about ten minutes

at the end of the runway.

And that is when, I suspect,

he ran out and got into
the wheel well.

I don't even think I can get here,
even if I try.

And doing it under speed,

you just can't really imagine
it, can you?

Blimey.

Struggling.

I can see the ledge.

Here. Yes.

So, the wheels would have come up
and gone into this big space?

Yes.

And what we think, he was lying
just here?

That's the only flat spot.

Do you know how long he would
have had before the wheel started

to retract, when it left the runway?

It wouldn't be very long because you
call for the undercarriage

to come up when there's confirmed
positive rate of climb.

Probably a matter of 15, 20 seconds.

I feel jittery just sitting up here.
I don't blame you.

The ledge that he would have ended
up on, I don't know,

in my head, I thought it was
more inside the plane.

Like, you can see the outer
skin of the plane, and it's so thin.

In terms of warmth and in
terms of oxygen, he's literally...

He may as well be outside. Indeed.

I'm trembling, this is scary.
I don't like it. Yes. It's horrible.

No, I think it's terrifying.

There's no light,
so far as I'm aware, in there.

So how he found somewhere to lie...
In the dark, yeah. ..I have no idea.

And it's so much bigger
than I thought.

Like, it's a massive bit of
machinery. It's huge.

The hydraulics are so powerful,
they've got to lift these wheels up.

Why would you do this to yourself?

There's something really unpleasant
about thinking about,

this was the place that
he lost his life. Absolutely.

God, the poor boy.

The sheer desperation that must
drive someone to stow away

like this painted a bleak
picture of a world where

there were no other options.

But what happened next brought
this home in a way I could

never have anticipated

and drew me right into the heart
of this story.

I've just landed.

I've been on a flight from Turkey,

and as I switch my phone on,

I've discovered that a body
has fallen.

A man is believed to have fallen
to his death

in the affluent suburb of Richmond,
southwest London, after clinging

to a plane all the way from South
Africa to Heathrow.

A body believed to be that of a
stowaway was found here, on top

of the white ventilation shafts.

He was found in an electrical box
on the roof

with his legs pointing upwards
in a V.

Well, there's very little known
about the victim himself.

He was discovered early this
morning, at about 9:30 local time,

on the roof of the building that
you see behind me.

But there was another twist.

The man who'd fallen from the sky
had not been alone.

A second man remains critically
ill in hospital,

the pair thought to have hidden
together on the same flight.

Of course, we also don't know
the exact condition of the other

person and whether or not police
have been able

to talk to him just yet.

Against all the odds,
this second man had survived.

Who was he,

how had he got on the plane

and what was going to happen
to him now?

I made it my mission to find out.

NEWSREADER: British Airways
says a man fell to his death

after stowing away in the
undercarriage of one of its planes.

The plane was travelling

from Johannesburg
to London's Heathrow Airport.

Another man, thought to be 24
years old,

is being treated in hospital

after he was found unconscious
in the undercarriage.

The miracle man had endured an
11-hour flight,

clinging to the landing gear
of a plane.

Of the 109 people known to make
such a journey,

only 24 have made it alive.

But no one has ever survived
a flight for this long.

Whilst the media was obsessed

with the man who'd fallen
from the sky,

I wanted to find the survivor...

..because here was someone who had
defied all the odds

and lived to tell the tale.

Hi, can I just run a quick inquiry
past you?

I've been researching a case

of a young guy that stowed away
on a British Airways flight.

We were hoping to speak to one
of the officers

that dealt with the case.

Over the following weeks,

I spoke to every single authority
involved with the survivor.

I'm trying to get hold of someone

in the press department
for the Johannesburg police.

Have I got the right number?

I'm trying to speak to someone
who works within foreign affairs.

Hello, can you hear me?

Just so I understand the process,
what would have happened is,

the Met would have responded
to the incident

and then essentially handed it over

because it was a sort of closed
case.

OK, thanks very much.

Thanks. Bye-bye.

I even met with the Home Office.

But I came up against one brick wall
after another.

I was left frustrated.

This was an important story,
and I felt it needed to be told.

Whoever this survivor was,

he'd landed in the middle
of a storm.

We are approaching one of
the biggest decisions

this country will face in our
lifetimes...

Is it not time we took back control
of our immigration policy?

..whether to remain in a reformed
European Union, or to leave.

The choice goes to the heart of the
kind of country we want to be.

Immigration had become the political
football of the referendum,

and compassion for migrants
seemed to be at an all-time low.

We've got too many.

This is what the problem is,
they've taken over our small town.

I switched tactics

and started to reach out to those
working in the asylum system

for information on the survivor.

I was determined that what happened
to him

would not be brushed
under the carpet and forgotten,

but as much as I wanted to find him,

I had no idea if he wanted
to be found.

I'd be so grateful for any help.

Cheers. Bye-bye.

And my efforts paid off
with an important breakthrough.

I was forwarded an email
from an official source

confirming his name...

..Themba Cabeka.

I went back to everyone
involved in the case.

Trying to find Themba had become
an all-consuming task.

Then at the point where I felt
like walking away from it all,

I received information
from an anonymous source.

Themba was in Liverpool,

and they gave me an address for a
Home Office accommodation block.

All the way through this process,
it's been like the smallest,

smallest little fragment
of detail or information

has been a pretty major
breakthrough.

And I think because it's been going
on so long,

I've sort of become a bit immune to
it.

But this is... in the scale of
how...

..this has been going, this is
absolutely enormous.

Like, to have not
just a city, but an address,

and to have a name, finally, is....

..is massive.

But when I got there, I wasn't
allowed inside,

so I tried to speak

to those people coming
in and out of the building

to see what I could find out.

It felt like a long shot,

but it also seemed my best bet
for finding Themba.

I've just spoken to two young guys.

It's frustrating, because neither
of them had heard of him

and it's not that big of a place

that you would have thought
they would have done.

After six hours, all I'd managed
to do

was speak to a couple of people

and hand out my number.

With no other leads for Themba,

I decided to switch my focus
to his companion in the plane,

the man who'd fallen from the sky
and died in west London.

If I could find out the details
about him,

this might open
up a way to Themba.

A Guardian article named
the deceased man

as Carlito Vale,
from Mozambique.

He was a similar age to me,
and had left behind a young wife.

I couldn't work out who had taken
these photos

or where they were from,

but they were my first insights
into the people behind the story.

I hoped this new information
would open more doors,

but the only person who would speak
to me

was the pathologist
in Carlito's case.

What would have happened to Carlito
as, you know,

as the plane took off?

There's going to be two effects
from the point of view of Carlito.

As you go higher up, the temperature
drops,

so your body temperature
would go down.

And ultimately, if you're in that
environment for long enough,

you can actually freeze to death.

The other thing is, you're going
to have lack of oxygen

and that would give you effects,
confusion, nausea, sickness,

simply because you haven't got
enough oxygen.

It's surprising in this particular
case

that it appeared that he was alive
with the heart ticking

when he hit the ground.

If you have injuries that have got
bruising around them,

you know that the person was alive
when they hit the ground,

and we were able to identify
that there were bruises

around a number of the wounds.

Really? So he was alive when he fell
out of that plane?

He was alive, but exactly whether
he was actually conscious,

that's another matter.
So the cause of death

would have been reported
as being the trauma.

Indeed, and we use a specific term,
we say "multiple injuries".

He died of multiple injuries
from impact with the ground.

Being here, I realised Carlito's
body was still stuck

in a mortuary fridge

and that he would be buried
in a pauper's grave

if no one claimed him.

I wondered if Carlito's wife
knew what had happened to him

and where he was now.

The only details
I had on her was an unnamed photo.

I struggled to get any further
information

except for one of Carlito's
friends,

a man called Joao,

who had grown up in Mozambique
with Carlito

but was now
living in the Netherlands.

Joao was wary of talking to me,

but after weeks of exchanging
messages, finally agreed to meet.

I'm hoping that he'll be able
to fill in some of the blanks

that I have around who Carlito was,

what he was like as a person

and also what might have led him
to do what he did.

For the first time, I felt
like I was getting somewhere.

I wouldn't just say Carlito
is a friend of mine,

but he is actually
a brother to me.

He was a very smart young man,
very charismatic.

I have to say, I don't believe
that he went willingly,

you know, because the Carlito
that I know

wouldn't just take the risk.

I was shocked.

That's when I said it's not
possible,

because a few months ago,

I got a phone call
and an email from him.

He was trying to travel to Europe.

What did his email to you say?

"What are the steps you need
to follow

"to be able to come to Amsterdam?"

It put me
in a place of feeling guilty,

because I sent him an e-mail
with all the steps

that you need to follow.

You need to have the right papers
in hand

and you need to provide
the right information,

why are you coming to Europe,

what are you going to do
once you're here?

You need to be able to work
and take care of yourself.

Maybe if I didn't say anything,

he would maybe have not tried to
come.

Maybe I would still have my friend
today. You were a good friend.

You did what a good friend would do.

You shouldn't... you can't,
you can't feel like that.

That's not fair on yourself.

Like, who knows
what the circumstances were?

You know, he travelled with another
man, and no one...

..Do you know anything
about this second person?

No, no.

Never heard of him.

I never got any information,

even though the media say
there were two of them

but still, I haven't heard much
about the second person.

Joao had given me my first glimpse
of the man behind the photo,

and his description of his friend

as someone simply dreaming
of a better life

was a reminder of an all
too familiar migrant story.

While Joao didn't have any contacts
for Carlito's wife,

I knew nothing of the survivor,
Themba.

It made me wonder
if there might be others

from where they had grown up
who could help.

But with more than half a million
people

living in their home city of Beira,

it was like looking for a needle
in a haystack.

I knew Carlito was brought
up in an orphanage

and I'd managed to piece together
enough of the puzzle

to work out
which orphanage this probably was.

I went online and I tracked up all
of the roads from the orphanage

and I phoned every single business,
every single church,

every single institution
in the proximity.

I sent hundreds of messages.

One person replied.

His name was Jose, and he said
he was a close friend of Carlito.

He also said he knew Carlito's wife,
Anna,

and that he would introduce me to
her

if I could get out to Mozambique.

I'm in a cab on my way to Heathrow

to fly to Beira...

..on the sort of hope, well,
with a tiny glimmer of hope

that I might actually be able
to find Carlito's family.

And my heart is racing.

I wondered if this trip
would finally help me find out

the truth about Carlito.

And crucially, might his family
and friends also know

the surviving stowaway, Themba,

and help me find him?

Four years after Carlito Vale fell
to his death over my home city,

I found myself flying out
to visit his.

On my way to Beira, I couldn't help
but imagine Carlito and Themba

stowed away in the wheels below.

I hope meeting Carlito's friend Jose
would unlock the mysteries

of this story - how Carlito and
Themba made this journey,

what was behind that decision
to do it,

and maybe, through Carlito's
community,

I could find my way to Themba.

Reflecting on what I had gathered
on Carlito, I couldn't help

but notice the contradictions.

On the one hand, he'd been described

as a bright and risk-averse
young man.

But on the other hand,
Carlito undertook a journey

that was completely reckless

and seemingly abandoned his wife
in the process.

It's quite intense being here,

it sort of feels a
million miles away from my life,

I know that's a really cliched
thing to say.

I'm now starting to question

my decision making, really.

What happens if
there's another story

and I'm about to find it out?

Hi, Rich! Hey, Jose!

Nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you too.

How's it going? Good, how are you?

Good, thanks. How was your journey?

Not too bad, not too bad.

I'm so grateful, thank you so much,
it feels really surreal to be here.

Yeah, welcome, welcome.
This is Mozambique!

I met Carlito when I was ten.

He was eight. Seven.

What was he like?

Strong. Clever.

He talks slowly, slowly, like
he doesn't know how to talk.

OK!

Yeah.

A good guy.

Carlito and Jose were part of the
generation of street kids

left in the wake of the 15-year
civil war that ended in 1992

and resulted in the deaths
of one million Mozambicans.

They grew up in a series of
Western-run orphanages in Beira

that offered opportunities for
a more stable future.

He would have been like a
good friend, a brother to you?

Yes, and I was older than him.

You were older? Yeah, than him.

So, you lived together for seven
years. And then what happened?

Carlito was sent to another
orphanage.

From there, we separated for good.

When Carlito was found in London,

it was reported that he was with
a second person. Yeah.

And that second person, I believe,
survived the trip on the plane.

Yeah. I believe that his name might
have been Themba. OK.

But I don't know how Carlito would
have met Themba, I don't know if

they were friends, I don't know if
the met each other at the airport.

They were friends,
but not from a long time. OK.

I'm sure that they
met maybe at the airport.

This was new information about
Themba and I was keen

to pick Jose's brains further.

I heard from a friend of mine who is
living in South Africa.

He heard that someone saw him there.

After the flight with Carlito?
Yes, yes.

So, he's back in South Africa? Yeah.

So, I tried to contact him,
to get his address,

but unfortunately, didn't manage
to get the address. OK.

So it means that, right now, no-one
knows where is he.

But they know who he is?

Yeah. Wow.

And do we know anything about him,
do we know how old he is or...?

Mmm, I don't know.

Do we know where he and Carlito met?

So, he's not from Beira,
he's never lived in Beira?

Actually, I don't know if he's
from Beira or somewhere else,

maybe out of town or South Africa,
another country.

But Themba is not a Mozambican name.

It looks like South Africa. OK.

I think Themba is the one
who encouraged Carlito

to get the flight to England.

I'm sure that someone helped them.
At the airport? Yes.

To get them to the plane? Yes.

Because there are security
everywhere.

It's impossible to get in the
aeroplane.

That's what I thought.

So, I'm sure that they paid
to get in the aeroplane... Yeah.

..they had to pay someone,
like a security.

And then, even when he gets
to the UK,

did he think that he could just
walk away? It was freezing.

It was freezing. Yeah, it would have
been. It was freezing.

Themba is incredibly
lucky to have survived.

Yes, he's very lucky.

Unbelievable that he survived.

He's lucky. Very lucky.

Yeah, he's lucky.

Can you imagine if you paid someone,

you think you were going to get
on board a plane,

you think you're going to even end
up sitting in a seat.

You get there, the adrenaline's
going, you're on the airport,

you have to do something to get
out of the sight of everyone

and you end up having to
go up there?

So it could be that he didn't
intend to be there,

he didn't think he was going
to be there

and then he found himself
in the wheel well of the plane.

And that would have
been fucking terrifying.

The next day, Jose took me
to meet Annah, Carlito's wife.

From all of my investigations,

she was the one person
who would know

the truth about Carlito and Themba.

It had taken me years to
locate Annah

and I was feeling nervous
about meeting her.

I just really hope that she doesn't
mind me calling in.

You don't think so? I don't think
so. You think she'll be OK? Yeah.

OK. That's good. Yeah.

But when I arrived at her house,

there was another surprise.

Carlito and Annah have a daughter.

Hello.

It's nice to meet you. And you.
I'm Rich.

Chemillah is 11 years old,

and I was instantly struck
by how much she looked like her dad.

SHE READS TO HERSELF

I've only been able to find out
a few details about who Carlito was,

but I wondered if you could
describe him for me?

Can you tell me a little bit about
where you thought...

you know, what Carlito was
doing on the run-up to the accident?

Did you ever think that Carlito
would do something like this?

There was a second person that went
with Carlito that day,

do you have any idea who that person
is or how they met one another?

No.

Chemillah seemed wary from the
moment I arrived,

but when Annah and I started talking
about photographs of her dad,

she joined us.

I've only seen two pictures
of you two.

I wondered if Annah could explain
when this photo was taken?

How old were you two at that point?

16. No! Really?

Had you just met one another?

JOSE:

ANNAH:

First time she's seen a picture.

The first time?

That she's seen a picture
of her dad? Yes.

Aw, I'm sorry.

I don't want to upset her.

Whilst it had been hard to see
Chemillah get so upset,

Annah assured me
they appreciated me coming to visit

and to be able to
talk about Carlito.

Being in Beira had given me
new insights into who Carlito was

and some of the difficulties
he'd been through that may have led

him to stow away with Themba.

But Carlito's life, like anyone
else's, was complicated.

And whilst I'd hoped Annah
might be the person who could

fill in the blanks, she had been
completely in the dark

about her husband's plan.

What Carlito had done and his death

had come as a devastating shock
to their family

and was clearly something they
were still coming to terms with.

The hope they would lead me to
Themba, like so many of my efforts,

had only resulted in more
frustrations.

He was not from this community,
and I was no closer to understanding

how he and Carlito knew each other,

how they had smuggled themselves
onto the plane

and what had happened on that
journey for one of them to live

and the other to fall to his death.

Back in the UK, I followed up Jose's
information that Themba

might now be back in South Africa

but was unable to verify this.

For every step forward,

it felt like I was sliding
two steps backwards.

Then, months later,
on Christmas Eve,

having all but given up,

I got a phone call from a very
unexpected source.

MAN ON PHONE:

I'm literally on my way
to my family's for Christmas.

The phone rings, I missed the call,
I just played back the voicemail.

It's someone from Liverpool saying

that they've found Thembo, they know
who he is and they can put me

in contact with him.
I can't believe it.

Bloody hell. Imagine
if we found him. Fuck!

Three years ago, I left Liverpool
dejected. At the time, I put

it down as just another
dead end, but now it looks

like it's what helped me find
Thembo, the survivor,

only he's now going by the name
Justin, which might explain why

I've struggled to find him.

I cannot believe that I'm
potentially going to meet our man.

I have no idea whether he's going
to turn up or not.

I've travelled thousands of miles
in search of the truth, and now

I'm back where I first started.

Could I finally be about to get
the answers I've been looking for?

Hello!

I'm Rich. Nice to meet you.

Oh, my goodness! Yeah, man.

I can't believe that I've finally,
erm...found you.

And how are you now?

Yeah, they are.

Liverpool is, like, renowned
in the whole of the UK as one

of the friendliest cities.

Like, everyone's really
super lovely.

I had been worried that after
everything he'd been through,

Justin might be apprehensive
about speaking to me.

But on the contrary, he is keen
to tell his story and shine a light

on the experience
of those seeking asylum.

You didn't know her.

Justin grew up in a poverty stricken
township in Johannesburg

where violence and gangs
left him broken.

So you were, essentially,
on your own as a child?

Yeah. Looking after yourself. Yeah.

And is that how you ended up being
homeless? Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

How old were you when that happened?

I asked Justin how he had met
Carlito and what their relationship

was like.

A tent? Yeah.

Yeah. Yeah.

Justin tells me he reached breaking
point, and with Carlito still keen

to get to Europe, this was when they
came up with the idea

to stow away together.

And where did the plan of getting
on a plane come from?

Engineering. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Whilst Justin seems proud
of the preparations they had made,

I'm struck by how neither of them
seem to have any idea how dangerous

this plan was.

Did you know what would happen
to the oxygen at that altitude?

I had always thought someone else
must have been involved to help them

get into the plane,

but Justin insists they did
it by themselves.

How did you get onto the runway?

So you put on loads of layers
because you knew it'd be cold. Yeah.

I find it really difficult to even
imagine what being in that plane

would have been like.

It's like, "Hmmm."

And then the wheels were still on
the, on the thing you were holding?

Were you holding on to
something inside the plane?

You could, presumably, you could see
the wheels come back in?

So you can remember that, but
then it just goes blank? Yeah.

It was heartbreaking to hear
Justin describe the last time

he and Carlito were together
and how in their excitement

for having got into the plane,
they had no idea of the horrors

about to unfold.

I see. So when you were inside, you
wrapped your arm around, like,

some cabling or something inside
the plane and it got hot.

Without knowing it, wrapping his
arms in the cables saved his life.

Unconscious for the rest of the
flight, Justin did not know

Carlito fell out of the plane
when the wheels were opened.

The next thing he remembers is lying
on the tarmac at Heathrow,

semi-conscious with a shattered leg.

Can you remember falling
out of the plane at Heathrow?

Justin has sustained life-changing
injuries from the flight,

but the thing he keeps returning to
throughout our conversation

is the loss of Carlito and the guilt

he feels that he made it
and his friend didn't.

Justin has given me a harrowing
insight into the circumstances

that led him to stowaway, but
Carlito's motivations for getting

on the plane still remain unclear
and it's left me with a sadness

that his death could have
been avoided.

But I'm happy and proud that the UK
has given Justin sanctuary

and that after everything
he's been through, he is now safe

and has a chance to build
a future for himself.

You sort of look out the window and
see Liverpool sort of going to work

and just going about their
normal life,

and then this person is just walking
alongside them...

..with this absolutely...

..heartbreaking and extreme
and hardcore story.

It's sort of... I don't know.

We're inundated every day
by stories of unknown people

risking their lives to get
into the UK.

It's taken me five years
to piece together the story

of two such people.

I've retraced their footsteps
and what I found is a story

of desperation and naivety,
but also of hope.

It's easy to ignore or tune
out of the news of migrants,

but behind every single headline,
there's a person with a dream

just fighting for the right to
live their life.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media