...is paved with Good Intentions. Review on The Road to Perdition Movie

The stark images produced in Sam Mendes’ oedipal, gangster, road epic Road to Perdition are the film’s highlights as well as the distractions in this graphic novel adaptation/near true story history-drama. This massive and roaring yet subtly acted film is a sprawling collection of pop-culture, everything from Shakespearean tragedy to the Coen Brother’s classic Miller’s Crossing to the Japanese manga Lone Wolf and Cub. This bullet-ridden compilation’s driving force is essentially the comic book, of which it’s based, filtered through some bland but lofty words by David Self (Thirteen Days) and then given the full Frank Darabont (The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile) treatment by, now fairly experienced yet still, film directing neophyte, Mendes (American Beauty). Once again the nearly infallible Tom Hanks rides to glory with this gangland wonder; unfortunately, studio requirements call for the final product to be pure Oscar gold with a prerequisite of the now fabricated element of Darabont-ness.

As mentioned, Conrad L. Hall’s vastly detailed and brilliantly disturbing but stylish camera gloss, takes the film by storm, releasing a wave of incredible images of nuanced performances, amazing sequences of (mostly) off-screen violence, and locations of grace and awe. Unfortunately Mendes’ sophomore effort is much less his and Self’s than American Beauty was his and Alan Ball’s dark, methodical child of quirkiness. This is the studio’s film, one that’s not especially a separate artwork or a passionate piece but a prepackaged “masterpiece” for the studios to send off to Oscar town. The cinematography’s majesty is a bit overbearing while its acting is fairly overshadowed yet this visual display is so delicious it nearly transcends the look of gangster dramas. Nonetheless this superbly executed and phenomenally shot outing is a joyous venture into a ruthless era of violence and an exercise in the most dangerous but profitable business of that era, the Mafia.

This engrossing treatise on the world of mobster wars is actually very little about 1930s mobsters but rather on a little known side of their lives, their families. We’ve seen the tough-as-nails, hardened women behind the powerful mobsters of the 50s and up but rarely do we get an inside study of the families and their relationships of the Mafioso’s hit men. Yet still, this self-imposed triumph is not quite the meditation on relationships and dangerous men as it may sound. It’s more of a melodrama with some frayed but genuine human emotions as the ensemble provides a nice backdrop to Hanks as he punctuates through a minor cliché with yet another astounding performance. And putting other minor problems aside, this bittersweet confection of a crime drama flourishes as, not quite the successor, but as a nice contemporary companion to masterpieces like The Godfather saga and Brian DePalma’s The Untouchables.

The flickering image of a young boy gazing wistfully upon a body of water provides an enlightening opening for a gritty crime thriller of almost less-than fascinating proportions. We learn that the young boy is Michael Sullivan Jr. (Tyler Hoechlin) the son of an Irish mobster’s hit man, Michael Sullivan (Tom Hanks) who works for the local but very powerful John Rooney (Paul Newman). Complications come into play when the boss’ loose-cannon of a son, Connor Rooney (Daniel Craig), begins offing people left and right, angering his respected father. Perhaps with a combination of his secret jealously for the affection shown to Michael by his own father and his own drunken stupidity, Connor sets out to destroy Sullivan’s life after Michael Jr. witnesses one of their outings. Enraged and torn with heartache John berates his son but also protects him despite the feral man’s brutal slaying of Sullivan’s wife (a very brief Jennifer Jason Leigh) and younger son, which systematically causes Sullivan to be on the run and out for revenge. Enter a bizarre little man who photographs dead bodies for crime scenes and moonlights as a Mafia hit man, named Maguire (a wonderfully maniacal Jude Law), called on by Frank Nitti (Stanley Tucci), Al Capone’s right hand man, to hunt down Sullivan.

Flushing its picturesque humanity and daunting vision through a manipulative smoothness, wrought by the studio system, the film’s performance is amazing yet too restrained and perhaps, too slick for a grimy crime caper, as it becomes rote but acceptably mechanical. Stripping the human surface and revealing its stony, formal outlook of the ‘30s is perhaps Road to Perdition’s goal and admittedly it comes close to it. Essentially it’s about the informal bonding of distant but related characters, formerly too trapped within the formal circumference of society and the grimly depressing times. It also reveals this relationship’s state as the product of a Mafioso’s unspoken contract agreement of keeping family ties to a limit, to the most formal and awkward form. The film tries to bring some sort of sanity and suggested solutions to melt these hardened relationships; however, it all seems a bit too pre-constructed. In a more pure form or less stylish form, maybe the end result might be more satisfactory, but as it stands, the characters aren’t penetrating enough, as the mood clearly wishes them to be.

Part of the character problems lie within the Tyler Hoechlin character, a quasi-precocious urchin with a very limited amount of appeal and not much development, and the fact that he doesn’t look as if he would be Hanks’ real son doesn’t help. The Rooney characters (originally called The Looney’s) are just as little developed and while Newman gives it his respectable edge, Daniel Craig’s Connor is a clichéd, flying off the handle type, with only a slight variation in its sniveling Pesci-ness. Hanks’ character, although quite well played, is perhaps too underdeveloped as well, the conclusion resulting as just a beautifully adorned exhibition with little character substance. The story has been done a few times before but isn’t totally unoriginal, and the slight twists and turns, when rightly complimented by its audacious style, makes for a peculiarly crafted tale with a slight presence of magnificence. Although, the main propelling plot is rather weak, seeming to be in a sort of premature state, not quite sure of itself as the narrative’s driving force.

Basically, when it comes down to Oscar time, this doesn’t really deserve any kudos, save best cinematography. Road to Perdition does prop itself up on some nice platforms; keen if sloppily narrated bookends, an overall strong cast, and a good but very belated story. Dripping with the Darabont element, I was hoping for a little more originality but for that Mendes incorporated some awkward quirkiness, best used for contemporary pieces like American Beauty and Showtime’s Six Feet Under, which is Thomas Newman’s odd and obtrusive score. Nevertheless, the movie is firmly driven into a foundation of excellence and an insurmountable style. Like its well-kept predecessors, the film has its roots and heart in the right place, family values and bonding as they undergo fire, except this requires a little more talent to disguise the fact that it’s a rehash.

(Originally written July 19th, 2002)