They call it 'schadenfreude' - the dubious thrill of watching other people's misfortunes, sometimes spiced with a feeling that it could so easily have been you.
Banged Up Abroad touches this nerve every time, and brings it all close to home; you are watching people very like your own friends and neighbours, suddenly pitchforked into a shockingly unfamiliar jail environment among people quite unlike them.
The 'us and them' factor (or indeed the very word 'abroad') raises the spectre of racial imagistics, rather in the tradition of Bing and Bob in their Road films, though strictly it's cultural rather than racial. (As for how far culture is impacted by race, that is of course endlessly debatable.) But under the test, there is no doubt that a good-looking young white woman, however guilty, is always made unmistakeably aware of her high rank in this world.
The main theme, though, is the simple contest between goodies and baddies, the baddies being sharply divided between the chuckling drug-barons in their safe havens and the wretched mules, mostly little people who've been tempted by greed into situations they can't handle.
It is that slippery slope that creates the drama, part-tragic, part-comic. The false hopes raised by just one mention of a five-figure reward. The inducement of a tropical holiday break free on the house. The fleeting friendships between gang-members, that turn so easily to loathing and mutual recrimination. The bland assurances that nothing can go wrong...
Welcome to a world tour of luxury yachts, quayside cocktails, false-bottomed suitcases, money-laundering, murderous cartels, corrupt police, sniffer-dogs, dirty needles, lesbian rape, bed-bugs, the lot.
