Edward Howell Photography
Netflix’s new film 23,000 Lives [“23,000 Leben”], starring Louis Hofmann as Lukas, dramatises the true story of the Iuventa rescue ship and the young crew who saved thousands of lives at sea — and were criminalised for it. Ten years on, SOS MEDITERRANEE is still doing that work. The criminalisation hasn’t stopped either.
An old ship, a crowdfunding campaign, a group of young people, and more than 23,000 survivors. The new film from director Markus Goller is based on true events: the founding of “Jugend Rettet” (“Youth Rescues”) and the deployment of the ship Iuventa, seized by the Italian coast guard in 2017 and out of action in the Mediterranean ever since. The film arrives at the right moment. What it shows is not a closed chapter.
Seven, eight years ago, someone said at an Iuventa meeting: 'So this is what it feels like, living inside a Netflix film.' Back then, probably nobody thought the Iuventa's story would actually get made into a film. Sure, it's a super-slick Netflix production, sure, it's once again a story about Europeans being told, rather than giving attention to people on the move.
But I'm glad the film exists. Right now, in 2026. This year has recorded the deadliest start to a year on the Mediterranean routes since data collection began in 2014.
I hope 23,000 Lives manages to get more people talking about sea rescue again. And maybe it'll even push one person or another to get active. Then the film will already have been worth it...
Criminalising sea rescue, criminalising flight
The Iuventa crews rescued thousands of people from distress at sea. The result: years of prosecution, house searches, accusations of facilitating so-called illegal entry. The case against one of the crews dragged on for years. Not everyone was charged: crew members report that the selection of the accused felt arbitrary, designed to deter, exhaust and stall.
This is not an isolated case. Anyone carrying out sea rescue in the Mediterranean today still takes a risk. Under the SOLAS Convention — the international law requiring every vessel to render assistance to those in distress at sea without delay — that risk shouldn’t exist. In August 2025, the Ocean Viking was fired on by the Libyan Coast Guard in International waters, with no consequences for the attackers. Then, in May 2026, a similar incident involving the Sea-Watch 5 led Italian authorities to open criminal proceedings — against her captain, not against the attackers. But it isn’t only the crews of civilian rescue organisations who are affected. Across Europe — in Italy, Greece, Spain — people seeking protection are themselves prosecuted, for example for having steered a boat. While proceedings against activists drag on for years, trials against refugees in Greece last on average 28 minutes,
In Italy, sentences range from several years to more than a decade in prison — for people who were themselves fleeing. These trials are frequently marked by procedural violations, lack of interpretation, and insufficient evidence. Even an acquittal often comes only after years in pre-trial detention, and represents an enormous psychological and financial burden for those affected.
What we witness every day
SOS MEDITERRANEE has been active in the Mediterranean since 2016. On board the Ocean Viking, we hear the same accounts the film tells: people who had no other choice. Who risked everything. Who drifted for days and nights in unseaworthy boats. Many of them do not survive the dangerous crossing.
The IOM recently reported that over 35,000 people are recorded as missing on the Mediterranean route — and that is only the verified figure.
Why criminalisation works
The film shows it, and civil sea rescue experiences it again and again: criminalisation doesn’t aim solely to stop rescue; it aims to slow it down, unsettle it, exhaust it. Proceedings, detentions, distant ports, seized ships. Every measure costs time, money and energy that is then missing at sea.
As long as states fail to provide their own, coordinated search and rescue capacity, civil society organisations will fill the gap. And they will be attacked for it.
What the film shows
23,000 Lives makes visible what many would rather not see. That matters. But films alone don’t rescue anyone from distress at sea. If you want to know what’s happening today, after the credits roll: we’re still here. We document, bear witness, and keep people from drowning. We stand up for people on the move receiving the help they’re owed.
Sea rescue needs support, not prosecution. Donate now, and become part of the mission.
