Film review: The Way Back

The Way Back is the latest Peter Weir film, tracing the story of a group of escapees from a Siberian Gulag in the Soviet Union. In some ways it follows a predictable trajectory – stories of escapees necessarily tend to begin with some explanation of why they are locked up in the first place, followed by an introduction to their place of imprisonment before they start scoping for a means of escape. However, this didn’t prevent the film from holding me in its thrall throughout its 133 minute running time – I was completely engrossed. I have to admit that the controversy surrounding the book on which the film is based (The Long Walk: The True Story of a Trek to Freedom by Slavomir Rawicz) kept popping into my head at inopportune moments, but ultimately the film does not lose any of its punch because of that debate.

While the horrors of Nazi Germany are widely studied, with many books and films produced on the subject, those of us coming up through the Australian school system usually find that we have very little knowledge of Stalinist Russia. Matters aren’t helped by the fact that Hollywood has largely stayed well away from Stalin’s regime. In this respect alone, it’s positive that a film such as The Way Back has been made, allowing this chapter of history to a reach a new audience, albeit in a fictionalised form.

The movie is by no means an overly negative or depressing film, but it nonetheless filled me with a sense of the overwhelming nature of human suffering. The early scenes of the movie gave an indication of the sheer numbers of people imprisoned in Siberia and reinforced the sweeping nature of their pain. The escapees in this story are just a drop in the ocean of people who have been imprisoned, tortured or worked to death, or who have lost their lives in harsh landscapes throughout human history.

The way in which the film’s characters are often dwarfed by the landscapes they are traversing only adds to this sense of enormity. This sacrifice of character is necessary in the scope of such a large story – the journey from Siberia to India covered 7000 kilometres – and in order to demonstrate the majesty and enormity of the landscapes through which they passed. Like Weir’s previous film, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, there aren’t many surprises in The Way Back, with the possible exception of the presence of a Polish teenager for part of the journey. However, also like Master and Commander, it is smoothly executed, evidently well researched and contains some excellent cinematography. It left me thinking about the nature of human interaction and suffering, particularly in the midst of harsh landscapes, and offers a fine tribute to those who perished in Soviet Gulags.

This review has also been published on upstart.

The other home

Back in Melbourne, and the rain is hissing on the road outside the open window.

In Carlton tonight half of Lygon Street was closed, ready for tomorrow’s festival. A pizza oven was parked where our bus stop should be. So we walked along Elgin Street between the showers of rain, the air still warm and smelling of bitumen. We got a bus and changed to a tram at the junction.

At home when it rains on the bitumen in summer, the air smells of eucalypt and is washed clean of the sea. But it only rained once that I can remember, all summer at home. It rained just after I left the water one evening, so I missed out on swimming in the rain.

Back in Melbourne, the other home. The sea is far away, but not too far. On Monday a different life begins, a new routine. It is as though the time on the other side of the country exists in a bubble, a time capsule. Melbourne seems unchanged. It is as though I have not been gone at all.

Coming back here makes me glad, because it is good to come back to a place that once was strange and that now is littered with a history of my own. We have a past together, this city and I. We have had this past for a long time, but it takes a year and a half here and a few months away to realise it.

Sometime soon it will be time to live in another city or another place, and then I must remember: after a while, when you have lived there long enough to have a routine and to know some of the place intimately, go away for some time and then return, just to see how it feels to come back.