The Narrow Road to the Deep North review: Unflinchingly savage war tale starring Ciarán Hinds is a gruelling watch

Television: Justin Kurzel’s first foray into television marks a stark departure from the usual Sunday night staples of cosy crime or bingeworthy drama

The Narrow Road to the Deep North: The darkness is both figurative and literal. Photograph: BBC/Curio Pictures/Sony Pictures Television/
The Narrow Road to the Deep North: The darkness is both figurative and literal. Photograph: BBC/Curio Pictures/Sony Pictures Television/

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.

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