
The Narrow Road to the Deep North review: Unflinchingly savage war tale starring Ciarán Hinds is a gruelling watch
BBC
One, Sunday nights, 9pm),
Justin Kurzel's
adaptation of Richard Flanagan's
Booker
-winning novel about the forced construction of the Burma-Thai Railway by
Australian
prisoners of war (POWs), falls unambiguously into the latter category.
This is Kurzel's first foray into television, but he gives short shrift to the conventions of the medium, essentially making a five-hour film of unflinching savagery and darkness.
The darkness is both figurative and literal. The Narrow Road is a gruelling watch. It is also a strain on the eyes, with much of the action shrouded in shadow, making it often difficult to discern what is going on. That is perhaps a mercy. Much like the book, the series is a rebuttal to cinema's historic tendency to portray the
second World War
as a jolly jaunt in distant climes.
The moral centre of the piece is
Belfast
actor
Ciarán Hinds
. He plays the older version of Dorrigo Evans, a surgeon from Tasmania captured by the Japanese in Indonesia and forced to labour on the notorious Burma Death Railway.
READ MORE
As empathetically brought to life by Hinds, Evans is a successful doctor who reluctantly recalls his war years for a journalist. But just below the patrician surface lurks unresolved trauma. The source of that pain is made dreadfully clear in the flashbacks to the war, where the young Evans is played with charismatic stoicism by
Jacob Elordi
.
Flanagan's novel drew on his own father's experience of war. Kurzel's version hits like a sort of negative image of David Lean's Bridge on the River Kwai. That film depicted the war in southeast Asia as a triumph of stiff upper lips over Japanese cruelty. But the Narrow Road to the Deep North removes all the romance. In its place, there is nothing but cruelty and humiliation, exposed ribs and unmasked savagery.
The awfulness to come is hinted at in an early scene in which Evans' unit is taken prisoner by the Japanese, who declare their incarceration an incomprehensible shame and that the only way the POWs can redeem themselves is by building a railway. To their captors, Evans and his comrades are dead already. What follows is not a punishment but natural retribution for their lack of honour.
Horror is blended with heartache through flashbacks, in which Evans embarks on an enthusiastic affair with his uncle's wife (Odessa Young) shortly before shipping out to war – and despite being engaged to his girlfriend (Olivia DeJonge). Oddly, the same plot device is central to Sebastian Faulks' first World War elegy, Birdsong. What is it about young men who are about to potentially meet their maker and the forbidden rhapsody of the love of an older woman?
Sunday nights on the BBC tend to be dedicated to superior, cosy crime or binge-worthy drama. The Narrow Road to the Deep North is something else. It's slow, difficult TV. But it is worth the effort, and Hinds has never been more commanding as a man who has left hell but knows hell will never leave him.
The Narrow Road to the Deep North is on BBC 1, Sunday, 9pm
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Irish Times
3 days ago
- Irish Times
The Narrow Road to the Deep North review: Unflinchingly savage war tale starring Ciarán Hinds is a gruelling watch
There are war movies and there are movies about war, and The Narrow Road to the Deep North ( BBC One, Sunday nights, 9pm), Justin Kurzel's adaptation of Richard Flanagan's Booker -winning novel about the forced construction of the Burma-Thai Railway by Australian prisoners of war (POWs), falls unambiguously into the latter category. This is Kurzel's first foray into television, but he gives short shrift to the conventions of the medium, essentially making a five-hour film of unflinching savagery and darkness. The darkness is both figurative and literal. The Narrow Road is a gruelling watch. It is also a strain on the eyes, with much of the action shrouded in shadow, making it often difficult to discern what is going on. That is perhaps a mercy. Much like the book, the series is a rebuttal to cinema's historic tendency to portray the second World War as a jolly jaunt in distant climes. The moral centre of the piece is Belfast actor Ciarán Hinds . He plays the older version of Dorrigo Evans, a surgeon from Tasmania captured by the Japanese in Indonesia and forced to labour on the notorious Burma Death Railway. READ MORE As empathetically brought to life by Hinds, Evans is a successful doctor who reluctantly recalls his war years for a journalist. But just below the patrician surface lurks unresolved trauma. The source of that pain is made dreadfully clear in the flashbacks to the war, where the young Evans is played with charismatic stoicism by Jacob Elordi . Flanagan's novel drew on his own father's experience of war. Kurzel's version hits like a sort of negative image of David Lean's Bridge on the River Kwai. That film depicted the war in southeast Asia as a triumph of stiff upper lips over Japanese cruelty. But the Narrow Road to the Deep North removes all the romance. In its place, there is nothing but cruelty and humiliation, exposed ribs and unmasked savagery. The awfulness to come is hinted at in an early scene in which Evans' unit is taken prisoner by the Japanese, who declare their incarceration an incomprehensible shame and that the only way the POWs can redeem themselves is by building a railway. To their captors, Evans and his comrades are dead already. What follows is not a punishment but natural retribution for their lack of honour. Horror is blended with heartache through flashbacks, in which Evans embarks on an enthusiastic affair with his uncle's wife (Odessa Young) shortly before shipping out to war – and despite being engaged to his girlfriend (Olivia DeJonge). Oddly, the same plot device is central to Sebastian Faulks' first World War elegy, Birdsong. What is it about young men who are about to potentially meet their maker and the forbidden rhapsody of the love of an older woman? Sunday nights on the BBC tend to be dedicated to superior, cosy crime or binge-worthy drama. The Narrow Road to the Deep North is something else. It's slow, difficult TV. But it is worth the effort, and Hinds has never been more commanding as a man who has left hell but knows hell will never leave him. The Narrow Road to the Deep North is on BBC 1, Sunday, 9pm


Irish Independent
3 days ago
- Irish Independent
Sincere retelling of the horrors of World War II prisoners puts the drama back into Sundays
The Narrow Road to the Deep North, starring Ciarán Hinds and Jacob Elordi, tells the story of an adulterous Australian who became slave labour for the Japanese as they built the notorious Burma Railway Sunday night dramas used to be as unavoidable on the telly as the news. It was what you watched when you knew you hadn't done your homework, and that Monday was lurking just over the horizon. There's been a bit of a falling off in the Sunday drama since then. The Narrow Road to the Deep North (BBC One) looks like filling that gap. In one way it is absolutely your traditional Sunday night drama: handsome hero just going into the army at the beginning of World War II. Beautiful women throwing themselves at the handsome hero, who also reads the Latin poets – although in translation, I think. His future in-laws are filthy rich. What could go wrong? But The Narrow Road to the Deep North is also really shocking, because, although it opens with a scene showing killings in Syria – horribly topical – the handsome hero is a medical officer with an Australian platoon that is eventually taken prisoner by the Japanese. The Australian soldiers become slave labour for the Japanese as they build the notorious Burma Railway. The sufferings of the Australians are appalling: starvation, disease, beatings and torture. Survival seems almost impossible. One of the questions asked by the this series is: what happens to you if you manage to survive? The Narrow Road to the Deep North is told across three timelines. Ciarán Hinds plays Dorrigo Evans in old age. He's a bit of a hero in Australia, because of his wartime experiences. He's a respected if controversial surgeon. He's a celebrity of sorts. Discussing what happened to Australians who were prisoners of war of the Japanese is simply impossible. 'Because you weren't there,' as he tells an uppity young woman journalist. But then there are a whole lot of things the old Dorrigo won't discuss – like his ongoing adultery habit. The second story is the development, before he enters his army service, of a passionate affair between Dorrigo and the beautiful Amy, even though he was engaged to the beautiful Ella at the time. The young Dorrigo is played by Jacob Elordi, who starred as Elvis in the film Priscilla and also as the ravishing young rich boy in Saltburn, so no wonder he is getting so much action. And the third story is the life of the slave labourers on the railway, in all their misery. It is alarming to see how thin the actors, and even the extras, have made themselves in order to play their roles as human skeletons. They went on a six-week weight-loss programme, apparently. Although Elordi, who reportedly underwent the same regime, still looks remarkably well. He's pretty much the only Australian prisoner of war to keep his shirt on, whilst his fellow prisoners are pretty much naked and the picture of wretchedness. One thing that shines through here is the love that these beaten men showed each other, which is as clear as the horrors they had to endure. But however bad the actors look, it is safe to assume that no television programme can reproduce the real suffering. This is a true story, with real survivors. One of whom was Frank Pantridge, a doctor like the fictional Dorrigo but from Northern Ireland, who was imprisoned by the Japanese. His health was permanently affected due to his sufferings as a slave labourer on the Burma Railway. He later invented the portable defibrillator which at one time made Belfast the safest place in the world to have a heart attack. He has been called the father of emergency medicine. Another remarkable survivor was the artist Ronald Searle. He invented the anarchic St Trinian's stories, and also illustrated the comic Molesworth series. Searle was a young British soldier taken captive by the Japanese. In the camp, after having worked for 16 hours per day, he drew his fellow soldiers and what they were enduring. In response, his Japanese captors broke his right hand. What they had failed to realise was that Searle was left-handed. He drew and drew – he made his first St Trinian's drawing whilst a prisoner – and he hid his sketch books for safekeeping under the bedding of the prisoners who had contracted cholera. He eventually died aged 91. In Australia, the experiences of their troops at the hands of the Japanese naturally left a vivid scar. The series is based on the novel of the same name, which won the 2014 Booker prize. Its author Richard Flanagan, who is from Tasmania, had been partly inspired by the wartime captivity of his own father. ADVERTISEMENT Learn more This story is now fading from general memory, as the survivors have died. But there is another story, of the South Asian civilians who worked on the Burma Railway, amongst them Tamil and Malay people, who died at an even greater rate than the British and Australian soldiers. It remains to be seen whether the television version of The Narrow Road to the Deep North can live up to the history that gave birth to it. The different timelines can be confusing and – this is a familiar viewer complaint at this stage – some scenes are literally very dark. But it is a sincere retelling of a terrible story and well worth a watch.