The Way, My Way review – a pleasurable walk on the Camino de Santiago

Adapted from Bill Bennett’s memoir, this film about his time hiking the 800km trail celebrates life’s simplest pleasures: walking, talking, imbibing

If the objective behind this modestly enjoyable film about walking the Camino de Santiago was to get us in the mood for travelling on foot through a foreign country, taking intermittent wine breaks, then I certainly found it successful: open the Pinot and pass me a hiking pole!

Adapted by Bill Bennett from his 2013 memoir of the same name, The Way, My Way charts the Australian film-maker’s 800km journey through Spain to the tomb of St James, a journey undertaken by countless pilgrims over the years.

That word, “pilgrim,” has profound, or at least religious connotations, but don’t expect much religious discussion from this film, which seems predicated in part on making a point that “pilgrims” can also mean “people with lots of time on their hands.”

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The Way, My Way has the tone and rhythms of a documentary. If you went in cold, you’d probably assume it was one. Bennett is played by veteran actor Chris Haywood, though the supporting cast includes pilgrims the director actually trekked with – of 20 speaking parts, only four are played by professional actors.

The stakes feel very low throughout, but not in a bad way: the film’s unprepossessing charm reminded me of Celia Pacquola and Luke McGregor’s lovely comedy series Rosehaven, which also finds respite from modern life via a slower pace and some big gulps of fresh country air

The trailer for The Way, My Way.

Bennett has directed many narrative films, from 1997’s neo-noir classic Kiss or Kill to 2002’s gold-digging themed comedy The Nugget. In The Way, My Way he takes a quietly subversive approach that feels proudly undramatic and embraces the kinds of moments that, in other films, might well have ended up on the cutting room floor.

One occurs about 20 minutes in, when Bennett is in a rural town with nothing to do; he decides to bring the film itself into his time-killing mission, ambling around and prattling on about himself via voiceover, in a scene that deliberately goes nowhere. There’s something oddly refreshing about a well-paced film that seems to be in no hurry at all, extolling an appreciation for life’s simplest pleasures: walking, talking, imbibing.

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It begins with Haywood as Bennett driving down a Spanish road, explaining that it all started on a holiday when he “saw this line of hikers walking along this track” and contemplated how “they seemed to be walking with such purpose”.

He takes sudden turn towards causticism: “It reminded me of lemmings plodding mindlessly headlong to their death,” he says. To him, the pilgrims seemed like loonies. Then, another swift turn – when he declares, apropos of nothing, that he “just knew that I had to walk the Camino de Santiago”.