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In 1937, while studying on the South Pacific island of Fatu Hiva, Norwegian anthropologist Thor Heyerdahl found evidence to suggest that Peruvians first discovered Polynesia via its eastern shores, as opposed to Asian explorers via the western coast. Bringing these major findings to various publishing houses, he received unanimous rejection and ended up living penniless in New York City for several years. However, in 1947, spurred on by desperation and bravado, he assembled a crew of eccentrics to construct and sail a balsa raft replica across 5,000 kilometres of ocean to validate his claims.

Everyone from his wife to National Geographic labelled this a suicide mission. Yet, upon completing the journey, his memoir ‘The Kon-Tiki Expedition’ and documentary film ‘Kon-Tiki’ (1950) earned him widespread recognition, respect and acclaim. It was not necessarily that Heyerdahl provided an irrefutable case study, but rather his persistence resonated with many and this is precisely what Joachim Rønning and Espen Sandberg have taken as the inspiration for their fifth film, Kon-Tiki.

The work is a grandiose biopic and a feat of visual creativity, but at the same time, it is a relatively pedestrian version of a Werner Herzog/ Klaus Kinski cinematic epic. Kon-Tiki succeeds in emanating the necessary pompous ego of a dangerous conquest but is reluctant to embrace imaginative storytelling, or even Herzog’s liberal use of facts to makes something sublime. Instead, this potentially pre-gonzo romp ends as a good summary. Undoubtedly, that fact will please academics, but this makes it difficult to call the duo’s effort anything more than a well-made History Channel movie.

It is not to say that the cast and crew must threaten each other with loaded rifles in order to give a profound performance, as was the case on Herzog’s Fitzcarraldo (1982), but at least that film made the twisted psychology of the plot into a tangible reality. Kon-Tiki on the other hand, plays by the book and although the end results are good, there is a lack of audacity that defined the characters portrayed. Hence, it never allows you forget that this is an act. Each stage in the journey seems blocky in the emotional department; they are happy, they are depressed, they are happy again. You can see through the characters and right into the script.

Despite the endless number of brushes with death, there are no psychological scars, or thousand-yard stares into a deep void by the climax. This leaves one with the sense that the characters have hardly developed at all, regardless of what they have witnessed. It almost drew parallels with Nicolas Winding Refn’s Valhalla Rising (2009) in aligning the trek with space travel. However, this is only mentioned in passing and without much regard for the irreparable change to a mind follows in the aftermath of such grandiose a journey. Shying away from this, the filmmakers never go beyond making a pretty picture and yes, it works just fine, but is unlikely to trick you into believing any of these events actually happened.