
‘We were all in it together': Jacob Elordi on his wartime epic The Narrow Road to the Deep North
To everyone except fans of the teen drama Euphoria, Jacob Elordi's star seemed to explode from nowhere two years ago. In 2023, Sofia Coppola's Priscilla and Emerald Fennell's Saltburn revealed to global audiences the breadth of the young Queenslander's range – a tormented and controlling Elvis in one vehicle, a charmingly selfish young British aristocrat in the other. They also certified him as a bona fide celebrity and sex symbol – the kind that can inspire lookalike contests.
Australians might be forgiven for not knowing the 27-year-old actor is one of us: aside from a handful of small roles (including his feature film debut, aged 17 in Stephan Elliott's Swinging Safari – 'I think I said two words, probably 'shag me',' he says) – he's mostly played Americans and Brits.
Sign up for the fun stuff with our rundown of must-reads, pop culture and tips for the weekend, every Saturday morning
Elordi's casting as Dorrigo Evans in the screen adaptation of Richard Flanagan's 2014 Booker prize-winning epic, The Narrow Road to the Deep North, out this month on Prime Video in Australia and later this year on the BBC in the UK, marks his first lead role playing an Australian.
Partly inspired by the legendary Edward 'Weary' Dunlop and partly inspired by Flanagan's own father, Dorrigo is an Australian Army medical officer turned Japanese PoW on the Burma-Thailand railway, fighting to keep his comrades alive. He takes psychological refuge from the brutality of the jungle, back-breaking labour and his captors in memories of a unresolved love affair.
Like Flanagan's novel, the five-part series takes place within three distinct timeframes: the prewar 'summer of love' Dorrigo shares with his uncle's much younger wife, Amy, played by Odessa Young (warning: graphic sex); the years as a PoW in the jungle (warning: graphic gore); and the 1980s, as an ageing, cynical and emotionally remote Dorrigo (played by Ciarán Hinds) takes stock of his life.
The preparation for the PoW scenes was gruelling, requiring more than just emaciated bodies. The reality of forced hard labour coupled with starvation meant Narrow Road's PoW survivors had to be skin and sinew.
The cast undertook a medically supervised six-week boot camp in rainforest south of Sydney to achieve the effect. Elordi says the on-screen camaraderie mirrors the close relationships the actors formed while shedding weight over that time.
'We were all in it together, so there was this great overwhelming amount of love in the whole process,' says the actor.
'It was incredibly challenging but deeply necessary, of course … because nobody wanted to phone that in or make a mockery of it.'
Narrow Road marks an important first for director Justin Kurzel and screenwriter Shaun Grant – the collaborative duo have never worked on a television series before – but the sense of moral responsibility around retelling traumatic episodes of Australian history is familiar ground. Their 2011 film, Snowtown, told the true story of one of Australia's most grisly series of murders, while their 2021 film, Nitram, examined the events leading up to Tasmania's Port Arthur massacre.
Added to this was the gravitas of Flanagan's book, the winner of seven major literary prizes including the Booker, and a work that earned the author the highest of praise, with the Economist dubbing Flanagan 'the finest Australian novelist of his generation' and the New York Review of Books counting him 'among the most versatile writers in the English language'.
Like Flanagan, whose father was a Japanese PoW during the second world war, both director and screenwriter felt they had skin in the game. Kurzel's grandfather was one of the Rats of Tobruk, and Grant's grandfather was a survivor of the Burma-Thailand railroad.
'In a lot of ways, [he] was who I was writing it for,' says Grant. 'My grandfather was a very flawed man, and even though I loved him dearly, I may have looked at him and judged him in certain ways.
'When I first read Richard's book, it felt like I really got to know my grandfather for the first time, to feel what he must have gone through … because he never talked about any of that himself.
'The only time I remember him talking about that time was when I mentioned to him I'd watched The Bridge Over the River Kwai. 'We never whistled,' was all he said.'
While Hinds' older Dorrigo carries the trauma of survivor's guilt, a disdain for sentimentality and an obsession with self-reliance, Elordi believes his young Dorrigo hints at many of the flaws that only reveal themselves later in the character's life.
'A lot of who he is was there before the war – there's this inherent stoic selfishness … and a lust for the immediacy,' Elordi says of Dorrigo, who embarks on an affair with Amy while engaged to his future wife, Ella (played as a young woman by Olivia DeJonge, and later by a wearily resigned Heather Mitchell).
'He's like a man on an odyssey his whole life – a singular hero's journey – and I think that is greatest flaw,' says Elordi. 'But strangely, in some ways, I also struggle to call it a flaw … it's what made him human, and what got him through the war.'
Fellow Tasmanians Kurzel and Flanagan have enjoyed a close friendship for many years, which added a further layer of weighty responsibility to the project, the director says.
Some characters in the series come across significantly more sympathetically than in the book: like Simon Baker's Uncle Keith, whose capacity to attract a beautiful young wife and keep her pulling beers behind the sticky counter of his country pub is more believable on screen; and Major Nakamura (Shô Kasamatsu), who seems almost as trapped in the jungle as the Australians he is guarding. This is simply part of the organic process of transforming literature into film, Kurzel says.
'As soon as you put anyone on screen, you find the good and bad in them,' he says. 'That's what's so special about cinema – you can see it on the actors' faces, you can feel another dimension to them.'
There was no discussion with Flanagan about redressing one of the few criticisms levelled at the book: that its depiction of the Burma-Thailand railway construction largely ignored the fact that while about 2,800 Australian soldiers perished during its construction, almost 100,000 south-east Asian civilians also lost their lives under the same conditions.
Kurzel disputes the criticism.
'There are really beautiful moments and observations in the book from the [Australian] soldiers recognising that other slave labour was happening at the time. And Richard [also] included the point of view of the Japanese soldiers after the war, [and the impact] of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
'But in terms of making a TV series, it is a piece of cinema. There is something so singular about Dorrigo. It is a story told from his point of view and that's the way it played out – we wanted everything to be seen through the prism of Dorrigo.'
The Narrow Road to the Deep North will premiere on Prime Video in Australia, New Zealand, the US and Canada on 18 April
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


BBC News
35 minutes ago
- BBC News
🎧 30 years on
Some 30 years have passed since Peter Reid took charge of Sunderland to usher in a booming time in the club's team at BBC Radio Newcastle's Total Sport have had the man himself on the show and you can listen to the special episode here.


BreakingNews.ie
39 minutes ago
- BreakingNews.ie
Annie Mac: ‘I still struggle sometimes being the centre of attention'
Few people are as synonymous with dance music as Annie Mac. The Irish DJ spent 17 years on the airwaves at BBC Radio 1 and this month returns once again to perform at Glastonbury Festival. But that doesn't mean she's immune to insecurity during big gigs. 'You go through so much in your head when you DJ,' says the 46-year-old. 'Depending on your state of mind, you can really go through different journeys in there – self doubt, self flagellation, a sense of overthinking everything. Advertisement 'And just being very aware of your own thoughts because you're alone in your head surrounded by thousands of people.' Back when the Dublin-born artist – real name Annie Macmanus – started on the scene, the DJ landscape was very different. 'DJing has changed quite dramatically since the Noughties, when superstar DJs came in and DJs suddenly became rock stars,' says the mum-of-two, who is married to fellow DJ Toddla T. 'When you're standing on a stage and you have 3,000 people watching you essentially press buttons, there's a sense of expectation there that I don't always feel I can fulfil in terms of me as a performer. (Annie Mac/I Came By Train, Trainline/PA) 'I always kind of struggled, and still struggle sometimes, with that aspect of being the centre of attention for thousands of people when, essentially, I'm just on the decks.' Advertisement At this year's Glastonbury, Macmanus takes on two sets, one at the Glade and a late-night slot at Arcadia – and she'll be joining a group of artists taking the train to Worthy Farm, as part of Trainline's I Came By Train campaign ('I would normally drive down and drive home, and there's just no need'). In her mid-30s, Macmanus stopped drinking when DJing and it's had a profound effect. 'You really hear your own thoughts very loudly,' she says. Compared to when she was still drinking during sets, 'in that way that drink does, [you're] completely uninhibited. 'I was way more of a performer when I drank, way more loose physically – I would throw myself into the crowd regularly, I loved to crowd surf. I would get on the microphone more. 'Whereas now, I really try and let the music do the talking as much as possible. I still get on the mic now and again, [but] I do feel like my sets are better now. They're more considered.' Advertisement It's been one of many changes made on her wellness journey of recent years. 'I think my lifestyle as a whole took its toll on my wellbeing. Ironically, that wasn't really in my 20s as much as it was in my 30s, after I had kids. I was determined to crack on and be busier than ever. (Ian West/PA) 'There was a period, you don't realise it at the time, but between 38 and 40ish, I was just spent – really, really tired and really burnt out. 'I had a lot of work going on, and a lot of pressure within that work to succeed and then alongside that, running a household and trying to bring up kids. 'My time at Radio 1 was really fast and furious and so intense in a way that I still haven't begun to process.' Advertisement Macmanus left the station in 2021, launched a podcast, Changes, and has authored two books, while still DJing at clubs and festivals. But the shift in career allowed her to focus on her family – and herself. 'I was very lucky in my position that I could make the decision to leave Radio 1 when I did and pursue a different career that could fit into a smaller group of hours that I could dictate. [There's] that psychological difference of being able to make work choices for yourself as opposed to having a boss,' says the DJ, whose shows included Future Sounds, Switch and Radio 1's Dance Party with Annie Mac. 'You get caught in the rat race, you go along with the industry standard of 'in order to succeed you must get bigger, you must sell more tickets, you must have more listeners'. 'Ducking out of that has also been huge and I realised I can succeed on my own terms, and I can redefine what success is to me. It's not so much about sales and views and how much I'm exposed to the world, how many people are seeing what I do – it's way more about how I feel in my head, and how I serve my family, my friends, my community, and how wide-reaching my interests are.' Advertisement View this post on Instagram A post shared by Annie Mac (@anniemacmanus) Since leaving radio her 'life has changed so dramatically', she says. 'The last four years have been a real opening up. I've stopped exposing myself so much in a public way, I've kind of come into myself. 'When you are somewhere like Radio 1 for that long it does form part of your identity. When you leave there's a sense of floundering, of 'who am I now if I'm not that 'new music' person?' It's been confusing at times but I'm glad it's happened because it forces you to turn the mirror on yourself a bit. 'The one thing I've learned from everyone I know who's done anything like I have is, I've never known anyone to then go, 'OK, you know what? I think I'm going to go back into the rat race now.' Fitness has played an important part in her lifestyle-shift too, having found football in her 40s ('I'm obsessed,' she says), and she now plays in a competitive league. 'What I realised upon taking up football is that I had internalised ageism, where I didn't believe I would be able to play with a competitive league team at the age of 46 – and my body has proven me wrong. That's been so cool because I've had to switch the voices off in my head and just let my body do the work. And I've never felt so grateful to be able-bodied and to be able to to play like this.' She teams it with home Peloton workouts and is 'mad into weight training'. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Annie Mac (@anniemacmanus) Plus, 'since really hitting the perimenopausal era, I've started to take supplements, I take multivitamins for over 45-year-old women. I always take magnesium at night – I think that's had quite a profound effect on my life because it's changed my sleeping entirely.' Macmanus says she's 'way more conscious' of how she needs to exercise for her mental wellbeing, as well as physical. 'There's a real revelation that happens to you when you start changing your outlook on exercise. For me, it was quite late in life. I'd always exercised to be thin and lose weight, and when you start to gain muscle and you start to feel strong, and you start getting to an age where you really notice how being strong changes your everyday, it's quite huge. I love that feeling of being able and being capable of doing things. 'I think there's a slow shift in public consciousness with regards to women and weight training, you can really feel it now, especially older women. I would really like to be weight training when I'm in my 70s.'


Daily Record
40 minutes ago
- Daily Record
Strictly's Wynne Evans wanted to 'end his life' after BBC scandals as he breaks silence on 'lowest point'
Wynne Evans appeared on ITV This Morning on Wednesday. Wynne Evans has opened up on his Strictly Come Dancing experience saying the aftermath left him feeling suicidal. The star, who appeared on the 2024 series with professional Katya Jones, joined Ben Shephard and Cat Deeley on the This Morning sofa on Wednesday to talk about his life since leaving the BBC dancing show. Wynne admitted he didn't have the 'fabulous' Strictly experience many other celebrities had. The star hit headlines several times during and after his time on the BBC show. During filming, the TV personality was shown grabbing his Strictly Come Dancing partner Katya's waist before she pushed his hand away, in a moment that sparked widespread controversy. But the star later insisted the uncomfortable moment was a joke. He then came under fire for using the sexual term 'spit roast' to Janette Manrara during a Strictly photocall, later insisting it was directed at Jamie Borthwick and nothing to do with Janette. The graphic comment got Evans axed from the Strictly tour, before a video emerged of him sending a sex toy to his co-star Jamie, which was again met with criticism. Speaking about the aftermath of these incidents, Wynne told Cat and Ben: "I used to think there's no smoke without fire, but boy has my idea changed of that." Cat went on to say that the media storm surrounding Wynne was 'relentless' and said: "This couldn't have been good for you mentally?" He replied, getting upset: "I've had clinical depression since 2016 and I want to talk about it today because I want other people to find strength in that. It took me to the darkest spot of my life when the headlines keep coming and coming and coming, when something gets picked up and it just doesn't stop. "I was at my lowest I wanted to end my life, I would have if I wasn't surrounded by people and at one point, one of the newspapers was so relentless I remember saying to my girlfriend, I remember saying 'I have to kill myself', 'I have to because this is what they want'. It's the same people who were writing 'be kind' a few years ago are still relentlessly going after you day after day after day and that is exhausting. "You can't eat you can't sleep, you're just full of these thoughts all the time and it just takes over your life." *If you're struggling and need to talk, the Samaritans operate a free helpline open 24/7 on 116 123. Alternatively, you can email jo@ or visit their site to find your local branch We'll be bringing you the very latest updates, pictures and video on this breaking news story. Get all the big headlines, pictures, analysis, opinion and video on the stories that matter to you.