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The purposeful critique comes mostly by way of the movie’s female characters—who are, as a rule, played by actors more charismatic than the two male leads. Novel and movie each begin with Sal (Sam Riley) meeting Dean Moriarty (Garrett Hedlund), a poor 21-year-old from Denver who has come to New York, toting, hoping to study at Columbia and become a writer. Riley looks the part of Paradise, pretty much, though he never quite shakes his British affect; his adopted accent sounds somewhere between Daniel Day-Lewis in and Christian Bale as. Hedlund is a naturally raspy Minnesotan, so when the two meet up with Viggo Mortensen as Bull Lee (aka William S.

Burroughs; the names in the largely nonfictional novel were changed, Kerouac said, for legal reasons), the dialogue scenes become a gravelly voice competition. Mortensen, unsurprisingly, wins. It’s not that Kerouac was unaware of all the damage that Dean, especially, did. But he forgives it all for Dean’s sexy, charismatic impulsiveness, which to him seems holy.

“Bitterness, recriminations, advice, morality, sadness—everything was behind him,” Kerouac writes, “and ahead of him was the ragged and ecstatic joy of pure being.” As Dean, Hedlund gives it his shirtless (and sometimes pantsless) all and has his moments, but if it is humanly possible to convey the “wild yea-saying overburst of American joy” that Sal attributes to Dean—and I have my doubts—then he doesn’t quite succeed. When Hedlund delivers a big monologue to Sal about a interracial four-way—a recitation of which got Hedlund the part, Salles has said—all I could think was: This is a guy who went on and on to you about his orgies. This is a sort of criticism I don’t think Salles intended, but which, watching the film, seems inevitable.

Some things just feel different when they are thrust visibly in front of you rather than filtered through the ramshackle prose of Jack Kerouac. Fairly early in the movie, Riley delivers, in his Batman growl, some of the author’s most famous lines.

This movie was supposedly made to illustrate Kerouac's novel but I will comment only on the movie. There is one comment on the message board made by gadjoproject which I find extremely compelling. Swl1019 makes a strong case also.I am not going to judge the content of Kerouac's novel, but swl is right. Who wants to watch a 100 minutes couple of guys riding in a car? In depends on what they do, or talk about, I guess. The problem is that these guys here just wander about.

There's nothing interesting happening on the screen, narration wise. Golden sun dark dawn rom download. I've never seen a longer slide show of backs of heads in my life.

So they threw about 25 sitting in front of the typewriter sipping whiskey scenes in, about 100 smoking expertly squinting while contemplating the endless mystery of the road and then nothing happens scenes, and some nudity, of course. The few times where Sal associates with the common man are lifeless and simplistic. The problem with novels made to movie is that if they're not done by somebody with vision, they can ruin the image you as reader had created in your mind while reading the book. That's the beauty of a book as opposed to a movie, the book creates intimate, personal images in your mind while movies are made by somebody else. If that somebody happens to misunderstand or filter the information differently you get 'On The Road', a slide show of cigarette butts put out in a pretentious, diluted and hollow account of who cares.

In all fairness I'm not going to ask for my whole two hours back, because with the complicity of the script, I was able to doze off at least 5 times. Only plus: Garrett Hedlund's performance.