“The Way is personal.” This line from the film The Way, written and directed by Emilio Estevez and starring his father, Martin Sheen, says something about the individual nature of the path that any of us are on in life as we consult the guide books, follow the trail, stray along the way, encounter happy accidents and purposeful detours, and meet and hang with our trusted and aggravating companions. The film The Way is a sweet and poignant tale of the spirit in the everyday, the solace in the simple moments.
In this dramatic feature, we follow the story of Tom, played by Martin Sheen, as he is called to the Spanish-French border town of St. Jean Pied de Port to collect the remains of his adult son Daniel (played by Emilio Estevez). Daniel died in a storm in the Pyrenees on his first day of hiking the historic pilgrimage of the Camino de Santiago, or the Way of Saint James. For centuries, pilgrims have walked from St Pied de Port 800 km to Santiago de Compostela, where the relics of Saint James are kept in a cathedral. People walk alone or in groups, seeking health, God, forgiveness, the culture of northern Spain, miracles, or any number of other answers of the spirit. The footsteps and handprints of centuries of pilgrim’s progress make their mark in the movie, as the team filmed The Way along the actual Camino trial across Spain. Martin Sheen’s forty-year Yoga practice figured into the filmmaking process: It was Yoga practice, he said, that afforded him the ability to walk the trail, through valleys and over mountains.
The Camino is a mountainous metaphor for the road we walk every day searching for what is beneath our feet and already in our packs. For the father-son team involved in the film, these connections run deep as there were parallels in their lives on-screen and off, across continents and consciousness. Before heading out on a cross-country bus tour to promote the film, Emilio Estevez took some time to talk to LA YOGA about the pilgrimage that led to the film.
Felicia Marie Tomasko: What inspired this film?
Emilio Estevez: The Way is inspired by travels with my son, my father, and my grandfather. The whole story of the film is about this reconnection of generations. At the turn of the twentieth century, my grandfather left Spain and one hundred years later, my son has returned to Spain, married, and hopefully will have his kids there.
FMT: Was journey of the film a surprise?
EE: On some level yes, but we end up where we are supposed to be. Some call it faith; I like to call it providence. There is some divine intervention at work in all of our lives. Whether we choose to ignore it or embrace it is the question.
When we were in production on the film in the fall of 2009, my sister—who has been working alongside my mother archiving all of the family photos—came across a series of photos that were taken in the north of Spain in 1969. She sent me a photo of me standing in my grandmother’s vineyard.
I started to weep; seeing that photo made sense as to why I had arrived at this place in my life.
I had spent the past seven years turning an acre of land in Malibu into a vineyard and micro-farm. I don’t have any skills in terms of planting or any background in agriculture. I was drawn to the land, drawn to this idea of being self-sufficient, of making my own wine, growing my own food, having bees for honey and worms for soil. It all felt so familiar to me. When we were scouting in Galicia [in Northwest Spain] in 2009, I was struck by how similar the backyards there looked to the backyard I had created at home: small vineyards, micro-farms, chickens. The people of Galicia were cut off for so long that they had to be self-sufficient. It was easier for my grandfather to get a boat to Argentina or Cuba than it was for him to drive to Madrid.
Malibu is different, but by the same token when we look at what is happening to our food sources, a lot of questions are now raised about what is organic and what is not. I know what is coming out of my own backyard; I know what is in the soil and the origin of the seed.
FMT: It sounds like the process of making this film reinforced your connections across continents, members of your family, and even time. What was the story you wanted to tell in the film?
EE: I think the film speaks to the idea that ultimately we need community and we need each other.
With all the instruments we use now, whether we’re talking about cell phones or computers, we have lost some of that face-to-face connection. It’s easier now to text or email someone than to call and a phone call today is almost equivalent to sitting down and writing someone a letter. We have lost the idea of community.
In Spain, though, the Slow Food movement has never left. In the regions of the Camino, you sit down at the table at 2 P.M. and then you don’t get up until 5 P.M. There are three hours set aside for the siesta, the meal, and the community or family. We have moved so far away from that. We have become more disconnected than connected, which is the irony of all of these devices for connection.
FMT: If the film is about connection, how did filming The Way reinforce community in your life?
EE: I live down the street from my parents, so I’m very close to them. I was physically closer to my son, but then he moved to Spain and has been living there for the last eight years. He and my father Martin did part of the Camino. One of them drove while the other walked. They stayed in an albergue, a hostel usually for longer-term housing that is a bit off the camino. My son met the daughter of one of the innkeepers and fell in love. He came home that summer and announced he was going to move to Spain and give that relationship a go and he has been there ever since.
My son and Martin were both the initial inspiration for the film. Martin kept nudging me to write a movie that takes place in Spain; ultimately we all want to please our parents, so in the summer of 2008, we began putting the screenplay together. It began with a series of conversations between Martin and me. It was a collaborative process; he had ideas and suggestions for scenes and I would try to work them organically into the piece. Once we figured out that it’s going to be a father-son story, I was struck with the idea that the road itself is a metaphor for life, and the Wizard of Oz was a great template. If Tom is Dorothy, let’s figure out the Tin Man, the Scarecrow, and the Lion. We also had to figure out how to get his character to Spain and how to keep it interesting along the way and have his character face his demons. In every road movie, a person will have to face their demons one way or another, whether they are actual demons and monsters impeding the traveler’s progress, or the demons that are inside of all of us.
FMT: Did you experience any unexpected moments working on the film?
EE: The entire experience was filled with surprises. I saw the things that could have been inconveniences as real gifts. For instance, if a crowd of tourists got off the train and walked through the shot, years ago I would have lost my mind and said, “Oh that shot is ruined,” but on The Way, I embraced all the flaws and included them in the film. If a crowd of people walked through the frame they may be in the movie now.
That was cool to be open to moments of divine intervention. There are always two ways to look at a situation: as either a problem or a miracle. On this film, I saw things that could have been problematic as miracles and this film celebrates our flaws.
There were some actual miracles too. We were warned against shooting in the north of Spain during the time that we were there because we heard every day that it would rain. My fear was a downpour that would slow everything down. We were on a long 40-day schedule, but it only rained twice and both of those days we were shooting inside. To some people familiar with the Camino, this film isn’t authentic because the characters never wore ponchos and their shoes weren’t caked with mud.
FMT: What do you hope the viewer takes away from this film?
EE: This film is about transformation, and ultimately anyone’s transformation comes from within.
Transformation doesn’t come from something you’re going to glue on yourself or a medical visit that is going to make yourself more complete or better. We are currently living in a culture where we are told over and over again that we have to look a certain way and if you don’t then you are discarded.
In the end all these characters arrive at a place where they say to themselves, “I’m okay being exactly who I am.”
When Joost, the heavyset guy says, “I needed a new suit anyway,” he is okay with being who he is. Jack is okay with not having the last word. Being okay with who you are is a powerful statement, especially in the culture that we live in where it’s difficult to come to that place. For example, older people are constantly being told to be younger. There is wisdom in age and it’s important to be comfortable in your own skin. That is a place that we all need to get to and whether we do or not is another story. I like being my age.
FMT: It sounds like making this film and exploring this story is part of your personal journey.
EE: In my life, I’ve been in places when I was chasing a lot of what I now see as the wrong things. I was saying yes to movies not because of how I thought they would affect me but because they were the movies that other people thought that I should do. Between making the film Bobby and now, I believe that I’ve become happier.
FMT: Speaking of Bobby, did the approval and success you received from that film shift things for you?
EE: Any project worth doing is going to cost you something personally or professionally. When that film came together, people believed in me. But then when I set out to make The Way, it fell on deaf ears in Hollywood. I stuck with it because saw the potential; the film is about human beings. People are tired of going to the movies and seeing everything dumbed down. I hope to continue to make movies that celebrate our humanity. I see myself creating entertainment that is enlightening.
FMT: Where in LA do you find your personal Camino?
EE: I love walking the Backbone Trail. It starts at Will Rogers Park and winds all the way to Point Mugu within the Santa Monica Mountains, the largest park that is in close proximity to a large city. It takes three days to walk the entire 60 miles. I’ve done it in sections and it’s a goal of mine to do the entire hike in the three-day period. It’s the closest thing to a Camino we have in the city.
FMT: What daily practices help you stay focused and balanced?
EE: I’ve been a runner since I was eleven years old and it is my go-to meditation practice.
Martin continues to be a Yoga practitioner. He attributes his years of Yoga practice to being able to hike over the Pyrenees at his age. He started Yoga 40 years ago before it was as ubiquitous as it is now.
FMT: What other projects are on the horizon for you?
EE: We are giving birth to this project now. It’s so personal and we’ve been on it for so long that my focus is on this entirely. I’m in the middle of writing a book with Martin tentatively titled Along the Way. We are looking to finish it this fall and it will be released next year, hopefully in time for Father’s Day. It’s about our relationship over the years and how we arrived at this place of making the film together.
The Way opens in theaters on October 7. For showtimes or more information about the film, visit: theway-themovie.com. Buen Camino!
Felicia Tomasko has spent more of her life practicing Yoga and Ayurveda than not. She first became introduced to the teachings through the writings of the Transcendentalists, through meditation, and using asana to cross-train for her practice of cross-country running. Between beginning her commitment to Yoga and Ayurveda and today, she earned degrees in environmental biology and anthropology and nursing, and certifications in the practice and teaching of yoga, yoga therapy, and Ayurveda while working in fields including cognitive neuroscience and plant biochemistry. Her commitment to writing is at least as long as her commitment to yoga. Working on everything related to the written word from newspapers to magazines to websites to books, Felicia has been writing and editing professionally since college. In order to feel like a teenager again, Felicia has pulled out her running shoes for regular interval sessions throughout Southern California. Since the very first issue of LA YOGA, Felicia has been part of the team and the growth and development of the Bliss Network.