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January 10, 2010
Just what the doctor ordered: Road To Perdition
I spent the weekend on the couch, doing battle with a rhinovirus that decided a sore throat, sneezing fits, runny nose and a fee-vah were just the ticket for the chosen human host.
Thanks a lot, buddy.
I did, however, take advantage of my Vicks-addled stupor, viewing several movies, most of which I'd seen before and liked, and one I'd never seen and liked a lot.
Road to Perdition, starring Tom Hanks and Paul Newman in his last big-screen appearance, is a somber tale, set in 1931 Illinois. Directed by Sam Mendes (American Beauty), it's the tale of an Irish American mob boss (Newman), his no-good son (a pre-Bond Daniel Craig), and the surrogate son and fearsome, tommygun-wielding enforcer (Hanks) whose favored status with the Old Man leads to betrayal, the murder of innocents, and single-minded pursuit of vengeance.
Some critics said the film was too cold, too emotionally distant, as well as dark and smothering, with a glacial pace, but I thought it was compelling from start to finish. The cinematography by Conrad Hall was stupendous, ravishing, rich, dark paneled rooms seemingly lit only by the lamps scattered throughout, faces half-hidden in shadows.
The attention to detail is prodigious; the clothing looks like it came from the pages of Life Magazine, real, lived in, not from a studio's warehouse, and that goes for the sets, too, from hotels -- grand and not -- to the mansion of the boss, to the modest, all-American home of a hitman.
The heart of the story is the relationship between two fathers and their sons: Newman knows that Daniel Craig is a thief and a liar, but cannot bear the thought of doing what must be done to his own flesh and blood; and Hanks, who, in the aftermath of a terrible tragedy, struggles to save his own son, and keep him from following in his father's bloody footprints.
Adapted from a graphic novel, the film eschews gratuitous violence; most is off screen, and what is seen is not too much, given the nature of the tale.
It strikes me as a very grown-up film, one that makes the most of the totemic screen presence of the end-of-career Newman, whose ice-blue eyes distract from the craggy visage and rough, whiskey-and-cigarettes voice. There doesn't need to be a ton of extraneous dialogue; you can figure the relationships out for yourself, watching Newman and Hanks play a piano duet, the older man clapping an affectionate hand on the younger man's shoulder, as Craig watches his father and his rival from beneath hooded and sullen eyes.
And there's a power to Newman's delivery:
"There are only murderers in this room!
Michael! Open your eyes!
This is the life we chose, the life we lead. And there is only one guarantee: none of us will see heaven.
It's a powerful movie moment, one that I like almost as much as the one that comes later in the film, when Newman says, "I"m glad it's you."
I'm sorry I waited eight years to see Road to Perdition. If SLAM! BANG! KAPOW! is what you're looking for in a film, give it a pass. But, if you're in the mood for something more elegiac, give it a shot.
Posted by Mike Lief at January 10, 2010 10:51 PM
Comments
You picked this one right.
Posted by: The Little Coach at January 11, 2010 10:19 AM
"elegiac"????
what is this, the 'new yorker'? i like movies with *car chases*, and FiSTfights, and tits. lots and lots of **tits**. lastly, who says "i'm glad it's you" to the guy who's about to machine-gun you down in the cold, wet street? happens alla time in hollywood. in real life, i rather suspect not so much.
Posted by: roger the shrubber at January 11, 2010 05:32 PM