52 Films by Women Vol 9. 8. The Salt Path (Director: Marianne Elliott)
There is a tendency
for films aimed at older audiences – people aged fifty plus – to be twee and
sentimental, with quirky behavioural tropes and an entirely false sense of
bonhomie. These movies are generally patronising and deserve to be placed in
the ‘right to be forgotten’ pile. The
Salt Path, produced by
Elizabeth Karlsen, adapted from Raynor Winn’s memoir by screenwriter Rebecca
Lenkiewicz and directed by Marianne Elliott, is a stunning counterpoint. Understated
in performance and execution, it deals with the sober reality of houseless-ness
in Tory Britain and the spirit of companionship and resilience. It certainly
helps that Gillian Anderson and Jason Isaacs negotiate their roles as Raynor
and Moth Winn with Birmingham accents that soften their speech – although
Isaacs lets rip in one scene of theatrical busking that belies the fact that
his character is a farmer. The couple are victims who choose to ignore their
status by diverting their energy into survival. The Salt Path is a
desert island film, where the main characters are marooned in their own
country, with little prospect of a boat coming to save them, nor the
expectation of one either.
With bailiffs
hammering on the door of their farmhouse, the subject of a court order – the
couple made a bad investment, their assets being seized – Raynor and Moth
decide to go for a walk, to traverse the 630-mile coastal path around
South-West England, beginning in Minehead, Somerset and passing through Exmoor,
North Devon and Cornwall, with nothing but a tent, minimal supplies – they eat
a lot of plain spaghetti – and a guide book by Paddy Dillon, which Raynor – Ray
– writes in. A letter that limited their liability for debts was not submitted
in time, but the couple don’t major in recrimination. Their children are free
from their mistake – their daughter has gone to work in Croatia, their son is
at university. Moth has CBD – corticobasal degeneration – likely to lead to
memory loss and the ability to swallow. He has a limp that impedes progress. On
the first day, walking uphill, they stop after two-and-a-half miles. However, for
the couple, time isn’t important.
The film is
photographed by Hélène Louvart, the French cinematographer who has worked with
a number of women directors including Alice Rohrwacher (La Chimera), Eliza Littman (Never Rarely Sometimes Always) and most recently Carla Simon (Romería) and
Scarlett Johansson (Eleanor
the Great). Louvart has a
talent for filming each location differently, not in the cliched way of moving
from darkness to light, rather allowing the viewer to take in variations in the
terrain. She also places the camera directly under Anderson’s chin as Ray
strides along the path. The film begins with a storm that threatens to take
away their tent, Moth fighting for it - ‘it’s our home’ – before showing us the
aftermath of a court hearing. Sound is used effectively, the rumble of wind
against the tent. There may not be bears outside, but the elements can match
them for ferocity.
The Winns pass
almost anonymously through the countryside, save for a local poking their tent
with a walking site – ‘it’s not a camp site’. The filmmakers treat us to an
outsider’s view of England. However, as he and Ray pass through a stile, the
narrow gap requiring the removal of their backpack, Moth is mistaken for
‘Simon’, that is, the poet Simon Armitage, who was tackling the walk at the
same time. A young man expresses a pleasure to meet him. This case of mistaken
identity manifests in two sequences. First, when the couple are offered
hospitality by a bourgeois young quartet, one of whom offers Moth a massage –
when his identity is confirmed, the hosts’ smiles drop. Second, when the couple
are short of funds, Ray having forgotten to cancel a direct debit payment that
has taken all their available funds bar £1.38. Moth notices that Simon Armitage
is reading from his work on 15th September, stands on a mound and
reads from Seamus Heaney’s ‘Beowulf’. Moth plays the crowd as if he were a
travelling minstrel; the scene only works because we know that Isaacs has
portrayed powerful men in the past; here he briefly unleashes his charisma. By
contrast, Anderson remains refreshingly in character, though towards the end
she faces a different sort of physical challenge, working with sheep shearers.
Moth argues with
Paddy Dillon’s designation of the trail, with some parts resembling sheer
inclines rather than somnambulant hills. We feel his difficulty, and their
poverty. When they stop off in a pub, they ask for water. To stretch their
finances, they order one pot of tea for two people, with an extra pot of hot
water. When the server turns away, Ray slips in one of her own tea bags into
the second pot to ensure she and Moth have a pot of tea each.
Although Moth has
the degenerative disease, insufficiently critical to merit emergency housing,
it is Ray’s memory that caused the late submission of the liability letter and
the non-cancellation of a direct debit, Moth is angry about the first point, reassuring
about the second. The inference though was that Ray was distracted. She is
portrayed as a concerned mother. At one point, her daughter phones to say that
she has missed her coach on her way to her job in Croatia. Ray tries to console
her but then loses coverage. ‘I could do nothing for her,’ she reflects, the
camera staying on her face to capture her grief and helplessness. We
subsequently learn that the daughter got a later coach and arrived at her place
of work.
Pictured: Rest time. Ray (Gillian Anderson) and Moth (Jason Isaacs) contemplate their progress in the fact-based drama, 'The Salt Path', adapted from Raynor Winn's memoir by Rebecca Lenkiewicz and directed by Marianne Elliott. Still courtesy of Black Bear.
Ray and Moth rely on
the kindness of strangers and pay it forward. They reach a café to purchase a
Cornish pasty and are crestfallen when told by a sympathetic assistant that the
café is shut. She tells them to wait outside before bringing a bag full of uneaten
stock. ‘They’d only be thrown away,’ she tells. Her supervisor appears outside
moments later, Moth hiding the bag behind his back. ‘Have you seen a young
woman?’ she asks the couple. ‘No’, replies Ray. The supervisor stomps
indignantly away. Later they see Rowan (Rebecca Ineson), a young woman who
appears to be bullied, or coerced, by a young man in her company. Ray asks her
to join them on their walk, before the man intercedes. However, Rowan does so,
walking behind the couple. The trio are treated to wild berries in salt water
offered to them by a stranger, who is accompanied by a silent male companion.
Rowan, Ray and Moth enjoy the berries, after which Rowan tells the Winns that
she wants to go back. ‘Have you got anywhere to go?’ Ray asks. ‘My nan’s,’
replies Rowan. Ray dips into her purse and gives her money for the Megabus fare
– the film is refreshingly specific. Through this short encounter, Ray atones
for not helping her own daughter, showering maternal care on a stranger
instead. The film’s portrayal of kindness as a reflex isn’t trite; we see where
it comes from.
In an early episode,
the couple join a tented community who offer Moth some medical attention and
Ray a shower. However, for all their hospitality, the community cannot
accommodate Moth and Ray long term – ‘we have to wait for someone to leave.’
Elliott’s film is closer to Nomadland than The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry and all the more compelling for it.
Without giving too
much away, there is a substantial interruption to the walk and the offer of
temporary accommodation though Moth has to work for it, laying tiles.
Nevertheless, in the winter months, they experience a temporary respite. Ray
cannot get work as a shop assistant. Instead, she earns £1,500 helping a group
of sheep shearers throwing freshly cut fleece in a container and chasing and
holding onto a runaway sheep. The scene has a naturalistic feel, as if Anderson
were being tasked off screen for real.
Road movie purists
might be disappointed to learn that we don’t see Moth and Ray complete the
walk. This is because they haven’t recognised the genre; this is a survival
film. The point of rescue is not a boat rather an understanding that education
and the occasional employment opportunity enable Moth and Ray to steer
themselves to shore. The filmmakers don’t openly condemn the circumstances that
led to Moth and Ray losing their home, but they remind us that unorthodox forms
of support are possible. The
Salt Path has much in common
with 2024’s ‘recovery’ film, The
Outrun, based on the memoir of
former ‘party girl’, Amy Liptrot. Stepping out of her lifestyle helped Amy
heal. Moth and Ray go through a similar process. By the end, we admire the
depth of their companionship based on resilience and instinct – Moth stops taking
his medication, not always advisable. We admire too the conviction of the
filmmakers that movies don’t need engineered cathartic moments to have an
effect.
Reviewed at Screen
Three, Picture House Central, off Piccadilly Circus, Central London, Tuesday 27
May 2025, 17:45
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