Hey folks, Harry here with Particle Man.... He was last at AICN back in February of 2000 and after years of hiatus, he's rejoined the sacred fold of AICN spies! Once an "aching" spy always an AICN Spy I say. ROAD TO PERDITION brought him back... that and an act of publicity blurbing that made him see red. Which reminded him of me, the biggest red of all... Here's Particle Man... and can I say, I'm really looking forward to seeing this tonight?
Road to Perdition
by Particle Man
The marketing department blew it again. They managed to find the one yabbo who was willing to go to press with a review that compares Road to Perdition, the new film from director Sam Mendes, to The Godfather. So of course they've got to splash that blurb across every spot they air -- it doesn't seem to matter that by doing thus they're luring people into theaters on completely false pretenses, for a film that doesn't need it, anyway.
I have contempt for the advertising people who pull this kind of crap -- are they this stupid, or do they think we're this stupid? For the poor schmuck whose knowledge of film history is so stunted that any film with gangsters, tommy-guns, and enough burnished wood offices to make Andrew Carnegie question his masculinity has to be The Godfather, I feel only pity. There are other, more pertinent films that Perdition could be likened to. Sadly, they're the kinds of films that wouldn't resonate these days with the general public (more's the pity).
Yes, it's about gangsters -- in particular, one well-respected enforcer named Michael Sullivan (Tom Hanks), circa 1931, who's forced to flee his own organization when his son, twelve-year-old Michael Jr (Tyler Hoechlin, in a restrained, uncloying performance), witnesses Dad on one of his "business" trips and subsequently exhibits the kind of moral revulsion that makes Mike Sr's higher-ups (most specifically, Paul Newman as the local boss) very, very nervous. Yes, it's got the grand, epic feel, taking us from the bloody horror of street-level mob wars to the glamourous confines of the home office in Chicago, with a little star-glitz thrown in via the presence of Frank Nitti (Stanley Tucci) ("Al," mentioned in passing, appears only by inference.) And yes, it's got the highly-polished filmmaking craftsmanship that contrasts appealingly with the gritty goings-on, although here, instead of burnishing the images with a sepia-cast, Mendes and his director of photography Conrad L. Hall use darkness as a design element, timing shots so that the players tend to drop off into shadows that are then swallowed into the blackness of the backgrounds -- faces tend to swim ghostly white in many frames. This storyline is haunting in more ways than one.
If I had to compare Perdition to another film, it would actually be to The Searchers. No, Mendes hasn't reached the level of that most hallowed of filmmaking Holy Grails, but the analogy remains apt. There are the obvious reasons -- both films feature actors with primarily wholesome reps showing us their darker sides; both center around odysseys that bring us progressively into realms of human experience that we otherwise prefer not to examine too closely. There's another reason as well: both films manage to present thoughtful, affecting narratives while not foresaking their mass culture missions. There's been some raising of eyebrows at Perdition's mid-summer release, but this is very much a summer film, just one working at a higher level than the usual CG-encrusted, inanely scripted time-waster. (And if you doubt Perdition's summer-film chops, just wait until Jude Law shows up as the twisted -- both literally and figuratively -- hit-man-cum-photojournalist Maguire. With this one character, Mendes plunges with both feet into pulp grotesquery and, in his own, subtly crafted way, relishes every second of it.)
Things aren't quite perfect. One of the things that bugged me about Mendes' American Beauty was its pretense towards profundity, as if Mendes felt he was the first to discover irony in the suburbs. It shows up here and there in Perdition as well, particularly at the end when, trust me, you'll be way ahead of where Mendes seems to think you should be. Also, if you run through the narrative in any detail, you may come to feel that the filmmakers are playing fast and loose with the time frames (as one example, a trip between a certain place and Chicago is established as an all-night drive, yet several points in the film seem to require that the same distance get covered in no more than a couple of hours).
Small matters, small matters. And they shouldn't divert anyone from the fact that Road to Perdition is a rivetting, moving, satisfying experience (with, by the way, the most exquisitely crafted use of surround sound this summer). Coppola doesn't have to worry. Godfather is still one-of-a-kind. So, fortunately, is Perdition
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