The Mercy

seen on 12 February 2018

James Marsh directs Colin Firth as Donald Crowhurst, Rachel Weisz as his wife Clare, David Thewlis as the press agent Rodney Hallworth and Ken Stott as the banker Stanley Best in a film written by Scott Z. Burns based on the ill-fated attempt of Crowhurst, an amateur sailor, to enter a round-the-world sailing race in 1968.

Crowhurst, running a small company inventing various navigation aids, and something of a romantic dreamer, decided to enter the race being sponsored by the Sunday Times, and found himself unable to back out even when it was plain that he was not ready for the challenge. He had commissioned a trimaran to be built to his own specifications, but it was almost entirely untested (at least in the version presented in this film) by the end of October 1968 by which time any contestant hoping to participate had to have started. Having signed away the deeds of his house as collateral should he not take part, and swayed by the blandishments of his press officer, he duly sailed out of Teignmouth Harbour on 31 October.

It seems incredible now that no supervisory body existed to check on elementary preparedness, but these were less regulated times, and it all looked plucky and adventurous. All too soon it became apparent that Crowhurst could not cope, and that his vessel would not survive the strain of the South Atlantic and the Roaring Forties. But neither could he face returning to financial and reputational ruin. Instead he chose to falsify his position reports and then enforce radio silence. By the tie he started northward again in the Atlantic, it could be presumed that he had rounded the world; but his desire now to lose the race was scuppered by the fact that only one contestant had actually completed it, and his falsified logs would make it look as if he had completed the circumnavigation more quickly, thus winning the prize. His boat was found drifting, but his body was not found; both accurate and falsified log books were on board so that his ruse was exposed.

It's not a cheerful film, then. At the beginning, Donald and his two young sons are manning a slightly eccentric stall at a boat exhibition. The family enjoys boating; Care is indulgent of her husband's daydreams and thinks the competition is just one of them. Gradually, it dawns on her that he may not pull back - the look of quiet panic on her face is painful to watch. Once he has set sail, Crowhurst's breezy self-confidence is quickly punctured, and he buckles under the strain of isolation and the implacable ocean. Meanwhile Clare is brave at home, the boys and their young sister eagerly plotting positions on maps, excitedly proud of their father, and the press agent has snared the interest of the Sunday Times.

Colin Firth traces well Crowhurst's inexorable unravelling. The incipient danger of rough seas is graphically caught in a storm which damages the boat, but it is even more nerve-wracking to watch the hapless sailor climb his mast to try to repair the 'buoyancy bag' on which he had pinned his hopes in case of capsizing. The true fragility of his situation is revealed in clear sunlight and calm seas rather than in bad weather. Hallucinations and flashbacks serve to underline his mental disintegration, while intercut scenes of life for the family in Teignmouth point up the damage he has unwittingly caused at home.

The performances are good. The photography and effects are good. The story is salutary, but not at all uplifting. Clare's extremely articulate denunciation of press intrusion on private grief is heartwarming, but perhaps overdone even in that comparatively polite age when the photographers and reporters at her door show some signs of compunction. As an argument against foolhardiness it could hardly be bettered.

It may be noted that this will be among the last films scored by Jóhann Jóhannsson, who did excellent work on The Theory of Everything, and the science fiction films Arrival and Blade Runner 2049, and whose death was recently announced.