The Impossible
Lo imposible

Spanish director Juan Antonio Bayona’s follow-up to his 2007 début feature--the magnificently atmospheric horror movie The Orphanage—is an emotional and original take on the “disaster movie” genre. Using the same screenwriter and almost entirely the same crew as The Orphanage, Bayona tackles the true story of María Belón and her family, who were caught in the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami in Thailand. 

What makes this film different from other disaster movies is that it focuses on one family’s perspective. This could also be seen as a weakness for audiences who like their true life stories to be fully representative of all points of view. It is a valid criticism of the film that it tells the story of a real-world event that primarily impacted South Asians through the eyes of a white family—especially since the actual family this story is based on was Spanish. However, this is not the story of the Boxing Day Tsunami; it is one story from it, and by keeping the focus narrow, the film becomes personal, immediate, and visceral rather than analytical and distanced. 

The choice of this Spanish production not to use Spanish actors was probably made because the filmmakers wanted to cast big stars and attract an international audience—though Bayon has stated that he intended to leave the nationality of the protagonists unspecified to make the film feel more “universal.”  This practice of casting Caucasians in real-life stories that, in reality, were about people of color has come to be known as “whitewashing.” Ben Affleck was accused of this when he cast himself as Antonio Mendez in Argo. Unlike the real Mendez, who had a Mexican father and last name but who always identified as a non-ethnic, non-Spanish-speaking American, the real family The Impossible is based on is 100 percent Spanish, so I think the criticism is more valid in this case. However, I did not focus on this external decision by the filmmakers. I was caught up by the internal experience of the film and the excellent performances of the Aussi/English/Scottish cast, especially Naomi Watts and Tom Holland.

The film looks and sounds nothing like a typical disaster film. Bayon and his team have topped the impressive but noticeably computer-generated tsunami sequence of Clint Eastwood’s 2010 drama Hereafter by going with a more analog, in-camera approach. But more effective than the powerful scenes of devastation and destruction is the incredible use of quiet and stillness in this film. For a movie that takes place in an environment of extreme chaos and maddening confusion, this is a very quiet picture. Bayona’s use of minimalist sound design, chilly stillness, and out-and-out silence captures the sense of isolation and aloneness that these characters must have felt.

Screenwriter Sergio G. Sanchez masterfully creates a compelling narrative from a true story without many twists, turns, or reversals. I usually like a little more artistic license taken with my “true story” movies—thank you, Argo—but in this one, adding more elaborate narrative flourishes could have made the film feel overly melodramatic. Bayona and Sanchez instead let the movie succeed or fail on the strength of the actors—and in my view, this is a major success. I found myself manipulated so effectively by the film that, at one point, I caught myself opening my mouth as if to call out to one of the characters. That’s never happened to me before.

There are scenes in The Impossible that will stay with me for a long time, and they are not the big disaster sequences but the small interpersonal scenes. These moments make this film perhaps not a disaster movie but an after-the-disaster movie, which is probably why it is so powerful and effective.