‘The Salt Path’ Review: Gillian Anderson and Jason Isaacs Lead a Sentimental Story of a Married Couple Removed From Their Home

As a seasoned moviegoer who’s weathered more than a few stormy cinematic seas, I must say that “The Salt Path” is a compelling, heart-wrenching tale that left me with a renewed appreciation for the power of resilience and the human spirit. This film masterfully captures the raw emotion and grit of its protagonists, Ray Winn (Gillian Anderson) and Moth (Jason Isaacs), as they embark on an extraordinary journey to rediscover themselves and each other.


Initially, when I first dived into “The Salt Path” by Marianne Elliott, I found myself drawn into the tumultuous lives of a middle-aged couple, their existence suddenly uprooted and carried away by an overwhelming torrent of saltwater and sorrow. At first glance, it seemed that this intriguing opening scene, which skillfully drew us in, was presenting a harsh, unforgiving reality for these two souls on the brink of transformation. However, as the story unfolded, I came to realize that this initial impression was a carefully crafted illusion.

In my own life, I find myself, Ray Winn (Anderson), and my husband Moth (Isaacs), facing a series of challenges as we navigate our later years. Converting our tranquil English countryside farmhouse into a charming bed-and-breakfast hasn’t been as fruitful as we’d hoped. To make matters worse, we’ve suffered financially from a questionable investment and have been battling an ongoing, seemingly unwinnable court case. On top of these hardships, Moth was recently diagnosed with Corticobasal syndrome – a debilitating, incurable neurological disorder. To add to our woes, we’re grappling with the emptiness that comes from sending our children Rowan (Rebecca Ineson) and Tom (Tucker St. Ivany) off to university, and are under court order to relinquish the only home we’ve ever known as a family.

On the fateful day of our forced departure, a scene that tugged at my heartstrings unfolded: bailiffs pounded and yelled at our door as we huddled in our basement sanctuary. In an impromptu moment, I decided to escape – embarking on a lengthy journey. My companion Moth and I began our trek from Somerset, aiming to traverse the challenging 630-mile South West Coast Path.

Similar to “Wild” and “Tracks,” “The Salt Path” immerses us deeply into the struggles and hardships faced by its protagonists. The story of this couple, confronting their challenging situation with an unconventional solution, is powerfully captivating. Screenwriter Rebecca Lenkiewicz, along with Elliot, skillfully weaves in poignant flashbacks from Ray’s grief-laden memories, serving as a poignant reminder that any one of us could be just a step away from a similar downward spiral of misfortune. The film echoes the socially conscious themes found in Ken Loach and Paul Laverty’s works such as “I, Daniel Blake” and “Sorry We Missed You,” by shedding light on the flaws in systems intended to protect people, but which often fail them instead – not only in reference to the Winn’s legal case, but also in their unsuccessful pursuit of emergency housing assistance from the government.

Although the first part of the story appears quite grim due to the hardships faced by this compassionate couple, the filmmakers introduce an optimistic undertone. They show empathy in unexpected places – from a wealthy tourist (James Lance) who treats them to ice cream when they’re famished, to a young loving pair who share their unsold pastries. A brief rest at a hippie commune offers comfort during difficult times. And when the predicted hardship returns, that particular scene symbolizes their transformation, as they learn to adapt to nature rather than fight against it, demonstrating their resilience as experienced travelers – or “seasoned” travelers, as a stranger on the beach later describes them.

To put it simply, the story has some flaws beyond the initial emotional twist. Certain scenes seem designed to elicit tears, such as when Raynor whispers “you’re my home” to Moth out of earshot. A subplot about Moth being mistaken for a poet and the subsequent resolution feels more contrived than moving. The character of Sealy (Gwen Currant) doesn’t contribute much to the plot, making her inclusion questionable. The character of Polly (Hermione Norris), who helps Ray and Moth with jobs and shelter during the cold months, is portrayed poorly by both the characters in the film and the filmmakers as a rude landlord intruding on their privacy. The movie sends an unwise message to those suffering from the same terminal illness that they should opt for exercise and better diet over medical advice.

Despite some potential shortcomings with the material, Anderson and Isaacs deliver exceptional performances that shine. Their acting, whether through subtle vocal nuances or heartfelt glances, is remarkable, capturing the complex emotions of their characters – from struggle and sorrow to ultimate joy. The cinematography by Hélène Louvart adds depth to the story’s conflicts, with cooler tones during difficult times and warmer ones in happier moments. Matthew Price’s costume design effectively portrays the dual worlds inhabited by the couple; one world personal and earthy, draped in muted tones, while the other bustles with passersby dressed in vibrant, eye-catching attire. Natural sounds help ground and comfort both characters and viewers, offering a unique take on survival. Though they may be homeless, their spirits remain resilient.

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2024-09-13 03:46