In The Way, an eye doctor named Tom (Martin Sheen) is interrupted from a round on the golf course with the news that his freewheeling, adventurous son, Daniel (Emilio Estevez, Sheen's real-life son) has been killed walking a pilgrimage from France to Mexico. That this setup coincides with the real-life spiraling of Sheen's other, more famous, more troubled son is an unfortunate, if eerie, coincidence. But the film, written and directed by Estevez himself, is a rather unexpectedly beautiful family piece that centers itself around the eternal, undying bond between a father and the son he barely knew but loved all along, so it's safe to say that said coincidence does lend the movie a bit of timely realism that bolsters the film rather than hindering it, lending a bit of realism to what is, basically, a redemption fable.
Don't think The Way is a total downer, by the way: this is one of the more joyous movies of the year, and if it takes a few well-worn cliches to supply its backbone it can be forgiven, thanks to the deft, almost exciting way with which Estevez and his father (still in fine acting form) re-energize them. Both father and son are given a shot at redemption when Tom arrives in France to collect Daniel's remains and decides to walk the path both for and with his son as an act of atonement and impulse, carrying Daniel's ashes with him and spreading them at appropriate checkpoints throughout the pilgrimage.
Admittedly, Estevez's script tends to deal in abstract and occasionally contradicting concepts (it cautions against an unfulfilled life, yet the one character who lives on his own terms dies as a result), and it's both too earnest to be truly scathing against the fluffy white upper-class of Tom's character, and too tragic to be overly endorsing of the wandering bohemian embodied by Daniel.
What it is, really, is a father-and-son story that thankfully doesn't get so bogged down in idealism that it loses the point.The film is so tight, the personal touch so evident, it's hard to imagine anyone caring, or even noticing its tiny flaws in the first place. Spanish villas and French peaks, and especially the cathedrals, are photographed beautifully in wide shots, while Estevez frames his actors lovingly against the impossible backdrops of the European countryside. If they look like ants, it's excusable, because that's kind of the point, but gosh darn it we love them anyway.
The Way moves at a swift pace, transforming effortlessly from a family drama to a private little redemption song to, of all things, a buddy road comedy as Tom bonds with three other prospective pilgrims: a snarky American (Deborah Kara Unger); an overweight Dutchman (an excellent Yorick van Wageningen); and an eccentric Irish writer (James Nesbitt, bouncing off the walls). The script takes great care to flesh out the quirks and backstories of each of these characters, and if a few are underdeveloped it's a small price to pay for how essential they end up being to Tom's journey. They seem like hangers-on or red herrings at first, but by the end, it's tough to imagine the movie without them.
The film, it must be said, is heading more or less exactly where you think it is, and isn't above a contrivance or two to ensure a happy ending for all involved. But, true to the movie's point, the path it takes to get there is really the thing that makes it great. And make no mistake, this movie is great.
