Director: Marianne Elliott
Writer: Rebecca Lenkiewicz
Stars: Jason Isaacs, Gillian Anderson, James Lance
Synopsis: A couple lose their home and later discover the husband has been diagnosed with a terminal illness as they embark on a year long coastal trek.
Sentiment takes precedence over what should be viewed as a devastating failure in Britain’s legal and care systems in Marianne Elliott’s ‘true story’ inspired, The Salt Path. Based on Raynor Winn’s (played by Gillian Anderson) bestselling memoir-travelogue about her walk with her husband, Moth (Jason Isaacs), along the 630-mile South West Coast Path from Minehead, Somerset to (eventually) Land’s End. Screenwriter Rebecca Lenkiewicz and cinematographer, the immensely talented Hélène Louvart, take the audience and the couple through King Arthur’s Land (Cornwall), as well as Devon and other ruggedly beautiful or lushly beautiful coasts and forests. The journey, although perilous, is so immersive and healing in Elliott’s frame that it becomes all too easy to forget what necessitated it in the first place.
Arthur, ‘The Once and Future King,’ would be disappointed with what has befallen the Winns. A protracted legal case where the judge refused to admit evidence that the Winns were not responsible for the debts incurred by a former friend’s business has left them penniless and soon to be evicted from their home which has been seized. Moth Winn’s ‘arthritis’ turns out to be an incurable degenerative neurological condition, corticobasal degeneration, or CBD, which isn’t enough for the local council to put the couple on the emergency list for housing. If this story were told by Ken Loach there would be a lot more justified seething instead of soothing. It’s clear that neither Moth nor Ray wants to lean on friends or family for support (which is admirable, and one might say ludicrously, selfless). They are in their 50s, the parents of two adult children, Tom (Tucker St. Ivany) and Rowan (Rebecca Ineson), they lose everything they’ve built by hand which includes their farm, and one of them is, in medical terms, dying.
With the bailiffs banging down their door, Ray comes up with the idea that they take a walk following the path set out in a book they own. It will give them time to “work things out” if they camp along the path. Their only belongings are two backpacks, a cheap tent, a copy of Seamus Heaney’s translation of Beowulf (which comes into play in a rousing moment) and a lot of pot noodles. Expecting to receive a tax credit of forty pounds a week, they decide that they can find a way to survive in the elements, relying on each other for support and hopefully the kindness of strangers along the way.
If The Salt Path were entirely fiction it would be nigh on unbelievable that the two don’t, at some stage, succumb to exposure or starvation. They are ill-prepared to deal with the wild weather and the steep and punishing path. There are remarkably few scenes where either Ray or Moth actually loses their temper at their situation or properly grieves it. The one foot in front of the other maxim keeps them going as does their abiding adoration for each other and their inherent “goodness.”
The one section where Moth’s health really is at risk doesn’t come from his condition, but rather from his decision to go cold turkey off pregabalin – something that is highly dangerous and reckless. Moth is extremely lucky that his health is somehow boosted by the exercise and plain eating instead of going through deterioration. It’s most certainly luck that isn’t medically advisable and the warning “do not try this” should probably flash up somewhere.
Luck does seem to be on the side of the Winns who at times of extreme crisis do find people who are willing to share with the couple, just as the couple are willing to share with an endangered young woman, Sealy (Gwen Currant) who Ray quietly convinces to come along with them.
The Salt Path is one of those films (and books) where the indomitable human spirit overcomes the worst of circumstances, where nature puts life into perspective and heals the heart, hurt, and bodies of those who need to feel as if there is something beyond the snatching away of security and livelihood they saw as their future. It’s difficult to argue with the majesty of coastal South West England and the subtle and lovely performances given by Anderson and especially Isaacs. Yet, with every deer, rabbit, underwater paradise, and soaring gull they see accompanied by Chris Roe’s whimsical score, the sense that these two people are the exception and certainly not the rule grows stronger.
The Winns eventually decide that they need and prefer the freedom that walking the path gives them and Ray’s deep love for Moth means that even if there are safer alternatives to look into, she will go with him. The idea of giving up everything and following their example isn’t pushed in the film, but nor is it thoroughly discouraged when the one person who offers them housing in exchange for labor, Polly (Hermione Norris) is painted as a nuisance rather than someone who is trying to help her friends.
The Salt Path is enthralling because where they go is gloriously picturesque as an idealized England, even with the squalls, bad weather, blackthorn bushes, and dangerous mud. Ray and Moth were salted by their travels and enlivened by their unusual swerve that saved them from a fate they should never have been subjected to. The location and the performances make the film more than the writing itself. There will be audiences who find The Salt Path a wonderful tale of resilience and hope, and others who cast a slightly more cynical eye over the undoubtedly stunning proceedings and ponder how a single serious misstep could have led to something much darker.
