Review: The Film, In The Heart of the Sea…

What images come to mind when you think of a seafaring film? Adventure? Survival? Captains and first mates? Pirates? Landlubbers wobbling unevenly out of sync with their delicate constitutions? A film in this genre can summon many impressions. 

But the real question is, will you get seasick watching one? Or simply get sick of all the drama? 

This film is based on a book of the same name by Nathaniel Philbrick. I usually kick myself for viewing a film before I read the source material, and I should have done a bit of homework before watching In The Heart of the Sea (2015), but it is what it is. The book is added to my TBR list. 

The story of the book of the film claims that it was the inspiration for Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. Which I can buy, since the whaling industry, officers with strong–and sometimes conflicting–personalities, and a larger-than-life vengeful sea-beastie are common threads throughout all three. It follows the story of the doomed 1820 voyage of the whaling ship Essex. 

The whaling industry in the early 19th Century was quite the business–a massive, global one, to be exact. Ships spent up to four years at sea, traveling to the Pacific and the Indian Ocean to hunt whales. And remember, the Panama Canal was built in 1914, so these ventures were quite long and arduous. Sperm whale oil was highly valued as a top-quality lubricant for industrial machinery as well as for use in clean-burning lamps. Since this was years before organized labor and contract work–the sailors did not receive steady paychecks for their toil, just 1/150th of the profits–the masters of this business, at that time, truly cleaned up. 

The film opens in 1850, about thirty years after the Essex’s fateful voyage, with the character Melville (Ben Whishaw, Skyfall) seeking to interview the sole survivor of this catastrophe at sea, Tom Nickerson (Brendon Gleeson, In Bruges). Nickerson balks at first, but upon the insistence of his wife (Michelle Fairley, Game of Thrones) and the reminder that his inn and tavern business was struggling, the old sea dog agrees and tells all. 

You would think a seafaring tale like this would be categorized as a disaster film, like The Poseidon Adventure (1972), or a survival tale (think–gasp!–Alive {1993}), or perhaps even an epic adventure like Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003). And you’d be correct, mostly. But don’t even think about comparing this film to any of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, it’s not that hokey. 

In terms of narrative framing, the story-within-a-story works, but it’s best as bookends. The revisiting of the storyteller and scribe does not add much to the story. Even the expression of disgust and shame at what Nickerson had to do to survive, although disturbing, was second fiddle to the story’s action. I mean, we saw it happen, on screen. Did we really need the belly-aching (tee-hee) after the fact? The actual story begins in Nantucket, in 1820, when the doomed vessel sets sail. An inexperienced Captain, George Pollard (Benjamin Walker, September 5), appointed by the company simply for reasons of nepotism, and an experienced first mate, Owen Chase (Chris Hemsworth, Thor), embittered by numerous unfulfilled promises of promotion, attempt to lead the crew while enduring one another’s presence.   

The younger Nickerson is played by Tom Holland (Spider-Man: Homecoming) with enough innocence and naivety that his awkwardness grants him unwanted attention. Since he was the smallest crew member, First Mate Chase had the boy go down the blowhole of a dead whale to harvest blubber. 

While deep in the Pacific Ocean, the Essex encounters a pod of sperm whales, and the crew members think they hit the jackpot. Not so fast. This pod has a mighty protector. A matriarch! The crew proceeds to hunt the pod, and eventually enrage the mama whale. The soon-to-be-named Moby Dick–clearly a misnomer penned by an ignorant male–attacks and destroys the Essex, forcing the crew into long boats. It is here that the tale shifts and becomes episodic; the story drags along for the rest of the film. 

The performances were fitting, for this was no film about character development. Hemsworth underwent a dramatic weight loss to illustrate the starvation the first mate endured. Cillian Murphy (Oppenheimer) is sorely underused as second mate Matthew Joy, despite the quiet, grounded intensity he imbued in the role. Walker portrayed the pride, the entitlement, and the inexperience necessary for the role. Whishaw performed his character’s function, while Gleeson did his best as the link between past tragedy and future literature. 

Not his best work by far, director Ron Howard (A Beautiful Mind) brings scale and majesty to the maritime sequences. The camerawork is dynamic and focused, effectively portraying the arduous physical toil involved in 19th-century whaling. Yet the film was unevenly-paced, had thin characters, and a split focus–the framing story, human rivalry, and the whale action–that slowed the film. Some viewers believed that the script emphasized visual spectacle over fostering a deep emotional connection to the crew.

All in all, this wasn’t a bad film. But I won’t watch it again. As far as recommendations go, watch it. Or do one better, read the book it’s based on first. Like I should have done.