As a couple in trouble, Gillian Anderson and Jason Isaacs find a path
THE SALT PATH
★★★★
M. 115 minutes. In cinemas May 15
I spent much of The Salt Path in a nervous sweat. From the very beginning, it seems like a story that's going to end in a screen awash with tears.
It's about a slow-going marathon – a 1000-kilometre walk along Britain's West Coast undertaken by Gillian Anderson and Jason Isaacs as a couple who have hit hard times.
They start off from a cliff in Somerset, with Anderson's Ray Winn looking worried as her husband, Moth, struggles up their first hill, dragging his left foot. Yet they press on, sleeping in their small tent, boiling noodles for dinner and weathering the contempt of dog-walkers who don't like campers intruding on their patch.
And while they trudge through the bracken, we take an excursion into their past via a series of flashbacks explaining the reason they have been forced to go on the road. An unwise financial investment has plunged them into a debt so large they have lost their farm and everything else they own. And even more disastrous is the cause of Moth's foot trouble. I'll spare you the medical details but the prognosis leaves little room for hope.
In the face of misfortune on this scale, it's tempting to tune out and leave them to it, but Anderson and Isaacs are both so appealing in the roles that you can't help becoming involved. Now and again they make a move so rash that it has you muttering in frustration, but they also have a taste for gallows humour which bubbles up when the going is particularly tough. I too shared their rising sense of suspense on every visit to an ATM and I admired their resilience when the noodles ran out.
And there are light moments. At one point, a jaunty figure with a Panama hat and an ice-cream (James Lance) invites them to his luxurious house to meet his glamorous wife and her equally glamorous friends, and all is going well until an unexpected revelation kicks in and the lunch offer evaporates.
It's not an entirely wasted experience. Up to this point, Moth has left Ray to handle the guidebook and any money they have left. Hunger, however, proves a great inspiration, and while Ray is gazing soulfully into the window of a fish-and-chip shop, he suddenly leaps up and announces to the passing crowd that he's about to perform. People stop, looking bemused, as he launches into a reading from Beowulf, the book he has been carrying in his rucksack. And such is the energy of his delivery that he's a great success. His hat is passed round and they have money for lunch.
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News.com.au
2 hours ago
- News.com.au
The Salt Path introduces real-life drama that was not in the book, says Isaacs
Jason Isaacs says that his new movie The Salt Path introduces real-life drama that was not in the book it is based on. The movie follows a couple on a year-long trek after they receive devastating news.
The Advertiser
a day ago
- The Advertiser
Wes Anderson's latest is a bizarre, light-hearted black comedy
The Phoenecian Scheme (M, 101 minutes) 4 stars If the whacky charm and playfulness of a Wes Anderson film is a challenge to folk who prefer their movies deep and thoughtful, or funny and relatable, the latest from this filmmaker is no less far-fetched than his last. The fantastical vision is however not such a bad fit for these crazy times, so why resist? The screenplay based on an intriguing premise was written by Anderson and his frequent collaborator Roman Coppola. The central figure is larger-than-life, a not unfamiliar type these days. A captain of industry, a business baron others wish to take down but he has survived multiple assassination attempts and seems somehow invincible. In the movie's first moments Zsa-Zsa Korda (Benicio del Toro) manages to survive another of these. It's a torrid beginning for an Anderson film but still funny enough to get this madcap caper rolling. As a marked man, Korda is feeling understandably uneasy and wants to secure his legacy with a major construction project in a place called Phoenicia, an intriguing ancient name for a location in the eastern Mediterranean. It's his plan to stitch a deal with partners based in Europe and the Middle East to close a 'gap' in funding for manufacturing engineering parts that are essential for the project to proceed. The other thing he needs to do is choose an heir. Despite having nine sons to choose from he calls in his only daughter, Liesl (Mia Threapleton), fresh from the convent and on the point of taking her vows. She only agreed to visit Korda because she wanted to confront the man who she believed had murdered her mother. But no, it wasn't Korda, it was his wicked half-brother Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch). OK, she agrees to being his heir on a trial basis and on condition that it was actually Nubar who did it. He will be their last stop on the business trip. Throughout this interesting meeting that sets up the father-daughter dynamic that drives the narrative, there's a young man seated near the door, who introduces himself as Bjorn (Michael Sera is a hoot), a professor of entomology. But his Norwegian accent doesn't sound quite right. Could he be a spy? He could be, but Korda takes him on as his executive assistant. The nun, the scientist and amoral businessman fly out together. Their first stop is to Phoenicia itself where they connect with Prince Farouk (Riz Ahmed in good form) but nowhere is safe for Korda. When they stop by on Marseille Bob (Mathieu Amalric) there's a terrorist attack during which Korda takes a bullet for his friend, and lives. He may be on track to becoming a better person, but he is still out of luck when he drops in on Cousin Hilde. Scarlett Johansson, still gorgeous but barely recognisable, still makes an impression in her star cameo. Anderson has amassed his usual vast cast of name actors with walk-on-walk-off roles. Owen Wilson and Jason Schwartzman appear to be absent this time, though you can never be quite sure, but Bryan Cranston, Tom Hanks, Willem Dafoe and Bill Murray are back. Big Bill plays God. Cameos may be a waste of their acting chops, but the bit parts don't seem to be any disincentive. Mia Threapleton (Kate Winslet's daughter) is new to the Anderson oeuvre and works a treat as Liesl. While she looks cherubic she makes a forthright, earthy young novitiate, delivering some of the best lines in pitch perfect tone. She has no trouble at all standing up to a guy who can ask, without a trace of irony, why someone did something when he hadn't told them to. Her character plays a key role, of course, in rehabilitating the father figure. The look of the film is a joy, so detailed you barely realise that the camera hardly ever moves, and when it does it's almost imperceptible. Anderson and his team have done meticulous work as always, crafting their latest gorgeous miniature with a postmodern mise-en-scene for the 1950s setting that combines vestiges of the art of ancient Egypt, Rome and Greece, Italian High Renaissance and French Impressionism. There are even some cheeky credits to the artists in the closing credits. After the rather static results of Asteroid City, Anderson is in better form with this bizarre, light-hearted black comedy. The Phoenecian Scheme (M, 101 minutes) 4 stars If the whacky charm and playfulness of a Wes Anderson film is a challenge to folk who prefer their movies deep and thoughtful, or funny and relatable, the latest from this filmmaker is no less far-fetched than his last. The fantastical vision is however not such a bad fit for these crazy times, so why resist? The screenplay based on an intriguing premise was written by Anderson and his frequent collaborator Roman Coppola. The central figure is larger-than-life, a not unfamiliar type these days. A captain of industry, a business baron others wish to take down but he has survived multiple assassination attempts and seems somehow invincible. In the movie's first moments Zsa-Zsa Korda (Benicio del Toro) manages to survive another of these. It's a torrid beginning for an Anderson film but still funny enough to get this madcap caper rolling. As a marked man, Korda is feeling understandably uneasy and wants to secure his legacy with a major construction project in a place called Phoenicia, an intriguing ancient name for a location in the eastern Mediterranean. It's his plan to stitch a deal with partners based in Europe and the Middle East to close a 'gap' in funding for manufacturing engineering parts that are essential for the project to proceed. The other thing he needs to do is choose an heir. Despite having nine sons to choose from he calls in his only daughter, Liesl (Mia Threapleton), fresh from the convent and on the point of taking her vows. She only agreed to visit Korda because she wanted to confront the man who she believed had murdered her mother. But no, it wasn't Korda, it was his wicked half-brother Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch). OK, she agrees to being his heir on a trial basis and on condition that it was actually Nubar who did it. He will be their last stop on the business trip. Throughout this interesting meeting that sets up the father-daughter dynamic that drives the narrative, there's a young man seated near the door, who introduces himself as Bjorn (Michael Sera is a hoot), a professor of entomology. But his Norwegian accent doesn't sound quite right. Could he be a spy? He could be, but Korda takes him on as his executive assistant. The nun, the scientist and amoral businessman fly out together. Their first stop is to Phoenicia itself where they connect with Prince Farouk (Riz Ahmed in good form) but nowhere is safe for Korda. When they stop by on Marseille Bob (Mathieu Amalric) there's a terrorist attack during which Korda takes a bullet for his friend, and lives. He may be on track to becoming a better person, but he is still out of luck when he drops in on Cousin Hilde. Scarlett Johansson, still gorgeous but barely recognisable, still makes an impression in her star cameo. Anderson has amassed his usual vast cast of name actors with walk-on-walk-off roles. Owen Wilson and Jason Schwartzman appear to be absent this time, though you can never be quite sure, but Bryan Cranston, Tom Hanks, Willem Dafoe and Bill Murray are back. Big Bill plays God. Cameos may be a waste of their acting chops, but the bit parts don't seem to be any disincentive. Mia Threapleton (Kate Winslet's daughter) is new to the Anderson oeuvre and works a treat as Liesl. While she looks cherubic she makes a forthright, earthy young novitiate, delivering some of the best lines in pitch perfect tone. She has no trouble at all standing up to a guy who can ask, without a trace of irony, why someone did something when he hadn't told them to. Her character plays a key role, of course, in rehabilitating the father figure. The look of the film is a joy, so detailed you barely realise that the camera hardly ever moves, and when it does it's almost imperceptible. Anderson and his team have done meticulous work as always, crafting their latest gorgeous miniature with a postmodern mise-en-scene for the 1950s setting that combines vestiges of the art of ancient Egypt, Rome and Greece, Italian High Renaissance and French Impressionism. There are even some cheeky credits to the artists in the closing credits. After the rather static results of Asteroid City, Anderson is in better form with this bizarre, light-hearted black comedy. The Phoenecian Scheme (M, 101 minutes) 4 stars If the whacky charm and playfulness of a Wes Anderson film is a challenge to folk who prefer their movies deep and thoughtful, or funny and relatable, the latest from this filmmaker is no less far-fetched than his last. The fantastical vision is however not such a bad fit for these crazy times, so why resist? The screenplay based on an intriguing premise was written by Anderson and his frequent collaborator Roman Coppola. The central figure is larger-than-life, a not unfamiliar type these days. A captain of industry, a business baron others wish to take down but he has survived multiple assassination attempts and seems somehow invincible. In the movie's first moments Zsa-Zsa Korda (Benicio del Toro) manages to survive another of these. It's a torrid beginning for an Anderson film but still funny enough to get this madcap caper rolling. As a marked man, Korda is feeling understandably uneasy and wants to secure his legacy with a major construction project in a place called Phoenicia, an intriguing ancient name for a location in the eastern Mediterranean. It's his plan to stitch a deal with partners based in Europe and the Middle East to close a 'gap' in funding for manufacturing engineering parts that are essential for the project to proceed. The other thing he needs to do is choose an heir. Despite having nine sons to choose from he calls in his only daughter, Liesl (Mia Threapleton), fresh from the convent and on the point of taking her vows. She only agreed to visit Korda because she wanted to confront the man who she believed had murdered her mother. But no, it wasn't Korda, it was his wicked half-brother Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch). OK, she agrees to being his heir on a trial basis and on condition that it was actually Nubar who did it. He will be their last stop on the business trip. Throughout this interesting meeting that sets up the father-daughter dynamic that drives the narrative, there's a young man seated near the door, who introduces himself as Bjorn (Michael Sera is a hoot), a professor of entomology. But his Norwegian accent doesn't sound quite right. Could he be a spy? He could be, but Korda takes him on as his executive assistant. The nun, the scientist and amoral businessman fly out together. Their first stop is to Phoenicia itself where they connect with Prince Farouk (Riz Ahmed in good form) but nowhere is safe for Korda. When they stop by on Marseille Bob (Mathieu Amalric) there's a terrorist attack during which Korda takes a bullet for his friend, and lives. He may be on track to becoming a better person, but he is still out of luck when he drops in on Cousin Hilde. Scarlett Johansson, still gorgeous but barely recognisable, still makes an impression in her star cameo. Anderson has amassed his usual vast cast of name actors with walk-on-walk-off roles. Owen Wilson and Jason Schwartzman appear to be absent this time, though you can never be quite sure, but Bryan Cranston, Tom Hanks, Willem Dafoe and Bill Murray are back. Big Bill plays God. Cameos may be a waste of their acting chops, but the bit parts don't seem to be any disincentive. Mia Threapleton (Kate Winslet's daughter) is new to the Anderson oeuvre and works a treat as Liesl. While she looks cherubic she makes a forthright, earthy young novitiate, delivering some of the best lines in pitch perfect tone. She has no trouble at all standing up to a guy who can ask, without a trace of irony, why someone did something when he hadn't told them to. Her character plays a key role, of course, in rehabilitating the father figure. The look of the film is a joy, so detailed you barely realise that the camera hardly ever moves, and when it does it's almost imperceptible. Anderson and his team have done meticulous work as always, crafting their latest gorgeous miniature with a postmodern mise-en-scene for the 1950s setting that combines vestiges of the art of ancient Egypt, Rome and Greece, Italian High Renaissance and French Impressionism. There are even some cheeky credits to the artists in the closing credits. After the rather static results of Asteroid City, Anderson is in better form with this bizarre, light-hearted black comedy. The Phoenecian Scheme (M, 101 minutes) 4 stars If the whacky charm and playfulness of a Wes Anderson film is a challenge to folk who prefer their movies deep and thoughtful, or funny and relatable, the latest from this filmmaker is no less far-fetched than his last. The fantastical vision is however not such a bad fit for these crazy times, so why resist? The screenplay based on an intriguing premise was written by Anderson and his frequent collaborator Roman Coppola. The central figure is larger-than-life, a not unfamiliar type these days. A captain of industry, a business baron others wish to take down but he has survived multiple assassination attempts and seems somehow invincible. In the movie's first moments Zsa-Zsa Korda (Benicio del Toro) manages to survive another of these. It's a torrid beginning for an Anderson film but still funny enough to get this madcap caper rolling. As a marked man, Korda is feeling understandably uneasy and wants to secure his legacy with a major construction project in a place called Phoenicia, an intriguing ancient name for a location in the eastern Mediterranean. It's his plan to stitch a deal with partners based in Europe and the Middle East to close a 'gap' in funding for manufacturing engineering parts that are essential for the project to proceed. The other thing he needs to do is choose an heir. Despite having nine sons to choose from he calls in his only daughter, Liesl (Mia Threapleton), fresh from the convent and on the point of taking her vows. She only agreed to visit Korda because she wanted to confront the man who she believed had murdered her mother. But no, it wasn't Korda, it was his wicked half-brother Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch). OK, she agrees to being his heir on a trial basis and on condition that it was actually Nubar who did it. He will be their last stop on the business trip. Throughout this interesting meeting that sets up the father-daughter dynamic that drives the narrative, there's a young man seated near the door, who introduces himself as Bjorn (Michael Sera is a hoot), a professor of entomology. But his Norwegian accent doesn't sound quite right. Could he be a spy? He could be, but Korda takes him on as his executive assistant. The nun, the scientist and amoral businessman fly out together. Their first stop is to Phoenicia itself where they connect with Prince Farouk (Riz Ahmed in good form) but nowhere is safe for Korda. When they stop by on Marseille Bob (Mathieu Amalric) there's a terrorist attack during which Korda takes a bullet for his friend, and lives. He may be on track to becoming a better person, but he is still out of luck when he drops in on Cousin Hilde. Scarlett Johansson, still gorgeous but barely recognisable, still makes an impression in her star cameo. Anderson has amassed his usual vast cast of name actors with walk-on-walk-off roles. Owen Wilson and Jason Schwartzman appear to be absent this time, though you can never be quite sure, but Bryan Cranston, Tom Hanks, Willem Dafoe and Bill Murray are back. Big Bill plays God. Cameos may be a waste of their acting chops, but the bit parts don't seem to be any disincentive. Mia Threapleton (Kate Winslet's daughter) is new to the Anderson oeuvre and works a treat as Liesl. While she looks cherubic she makes a forthright, earthy young novitiate, delivering some of the best lines in pitch perfect tone. She has no trouble at all standing up to a guy who can ask, without a trace of irony, why someone did something when he hadn't told them to. Her character plays a key role, of course, in rehabilitating the father figure. The look of the film is a joy, so detailed you barely realise that the camera hardly ever moves, and when it does it's almost imperceptible. Anderson and his team have done meticulous work as always, crafting their latest gorgeous miniature with a postmodern mise-en-scene for the 1950s setting that combines vestiges of the art of ancient Egypt, Rome and Greece, Italian High Renaissance and French Impressionism. There are even some cheeky credits to the artists in the closing credits. After the rather static results of Asteroid City, Anderson is in better form with this bizarre, light-hearted black comedy.
The Age
2 days ago
- The Age
Trump is trying to eradicate Harvard's inconvenient truths
I began my PhD in English at Harvard back in 1996, after a BA at the University of Sydney. Harvard's president then was Neil Rudenstine, an English professor whose research had been on Shakespeare and Keats. It was Keats who coined the term 'negative capability' in a letter to his brother, which he described as the state 'of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason'. This condition of open-minded, curious, creative doubt underpins all great universities and is a crucial pathway to knowledge. Harvard University has not always been a beleaguered underdog. With the world's news cameras trained on the colonial brick facades and leafy greens of Harvard Yard, it's an ideal moment to reassess what makes Harvard exceptional, and what social purpose is met by having outstanding universities, worldwide. One of my first memories of being at Harvard is of attending a small poetry reading given by Seamus Heaney in a swimming pool under an undergraduate hall of residence. The pool had in fact been drained a few years earlier, after one Suetonian free-for-all too many, attended by smoking, fornicating, pontificating future New Yorker writers. By the time I got there it had been converted to a decorous small theatre. Heaney had won the Nobel Prize the year before and was a member of the Harvard English department. He read that evening from something new he was working on, a verse translation of the Old English masterpiece Beowulf. Heaney's Beowulf is now a classic of a classic. Its brilliance was to couple the sounds of mainstream English lyric (e.g. Keats and Shakespeare) with rhythms and dialects that are distinctively Irish, Welsh and Anglo-Saxon, reminding readers that Britain's history is shaped by invasion, resettlement and language displacements, over many centuries. Beowulf is a contentious poem. Its aggressive tone and intensifying mood of sadness let us glimpse imaginative residues of Anglo-Saxon migrations, which displaced native Britons and old Roman settlements. Heaney's translation is a reminder not to oversimplify this story into a simple invasion and erasure narrative. It's asking us to think about national identity as changeable, volatile and complex. Loading Later in my degree, I was a teaching fellow for Stephen Greenblatt's classes on Shakespeare. His lectures were about how the power and beauty of Shakespeare depends on the plays' continuous experiments with wildly different, colliding systems of imagination and belief. Shakespeare was purposefully provocative, reminding audiences of the most debated topics of his time: still-unsettled conflicts between Protestantism and Catholicism, rifts between monarchy and parliament, conflicts between nation states and threats to political authority. His writing was always at the very edge of what was permissible. Anyone who's been an international student in a great university will have their own versions of these memorable encounters. I couldn't have put my finger on it that night down in the Adams House pool, but it was when I first sensed what is truly remarkable about Harvard and other great universities. The brilliance of its faculty and students comes from being unafraid of new and different ways of thinking. There's a crucial institutional pressure to keep broadening perspective and learning from other deeply creative, thoughtful people in other disciplines. It doesn't work perfectly all the time. As with any complex institution, Ivy League universities struggle with internal problems and conflicts that need fixing. They need to keep draining the pool. But at their best, universities such as Harvard are international communities of extraordinary teachers, students and scholars working to make knowledge from a collective dedication to not knowing and not being right all the time. The questioning of beliefs and assumptions is undergirded by deep expertise.
