Michael O’Sullivan hits the road for his review of The Olive Tree.
Personally, a road trip is the worst kind of movie narrative device in modern cinema. Every mile has been travelled, every landscape has been seen, and its metaphors have been used so much that they have the sentimental value of a Hallmark card at this point. It's the entertainment equivalent of watching a family slideshow to a vacation you yourself were not part of.
That may have put The Olive Tree off to a bad start, but there's a surprising amount wholly enjoyable too. Directed by Iciar Bollain and written by Paul Laverty, the film tells the story of a young woman named Alma (Anna Castillo) who lives her life as a liberated extrovert who sleeps with strangers and eggs her boss unapologetically for being unbearable. Despite her temerity in life, Alma still finds herself attached to her grandfather (Manuel Cucala) who has become mute ever since his son, Alma’s father, cut down their family’s olive tree. Believing that returning the tree to her grandfather will help restore his vitality, Alma runs off to Brussels with her uncle (Javier Gutiérrez) and childhood friend (Pep Ambrós) to take the tree back from an environmental agency that has kept the tree ever since.
We see intimate conversations on the road, secrets revealed along the way, and the occasional anecdotal pit-stop to break away from the central goal of the story. The narrative structure may be familiar but Bollain draws the emotional punches when she needs to. One thing that can always be assured of in Spanish cinema is that it will always contain passionate and striking performances which everyone involved certainly provides, especially Anna Castillo. Likewise, the emotional bond between grandfather and granddaughter produces many of the tenderest moments in the film, juxtaposing the dynamic between Alma and Róman over the span of a decade.
Screenwriter Laverty is a long-time collaborator with Ken Loach, and this script addresses certain issues residing in Spain that continue to persist in the nation. If anything has been clear from Spanish cinema in the past decade, it’s that the financial crisis of 2008 still hits a raw nerve for many culturally. The olive tree itself begins to represent that not all possessions are valuable by their monetary worth but by its ancestry and personal identity. Somehow, this parable gets diluted a little over time, and shifts to a more digestible and broad environmental message. When Alma’s uncle challenges her continuing resentment of her father, Alma reveals that her hatred comes from his inaction as his employer continually molested her as a teenager. Such heavy subject matter is brushed aside in the moment but makes later scenes more difficult to interpret.
And yet despite this, The Olive Tree, could also be described as “safe.” Bollain and Laverty provide a story of anti-capitalism and tradition that does not cause offence nor outrage. Despite the overall enjoyable story, there’s a clear indication of dissatisfaction in Spanish culture that the film continually probes. If anyone was hoping for the Spanish equivalent of I, Daniel Blake, this is not the film for them. Still… it was a nice vehicle for a road trip.
In cinemas 17th March 2017.
