The Road (2009)

 

The Road (2009)
by Corey Poff

“We're carrying the fire.”

John Hillcoat's The Road  – based on the critically-acclaimed novel by Cormac McCarthy – is a movie that, once seen, can never be forgotten. Ugly, yet beautiful; touching, yet devastating; poignant, yet terrifying – it is one of those films that sticks fast in the mind, and in many cases, the heart.

The Road (rated R for violence, disturbing images, and language) follows an unnamed father (Viggo Mortensen) and son (Kodi Smit-McPhee) as they walk alone through the desolation that was once North America. Their destination is the coast, although they have no idea of what awaits them there. They have nothing; nothing save the clothes on their backs, a shopping cart full of scavenged food, a revolver, two bullets – and each other.

Nothing stirs in the ruined landscape except ash, blowing in a wind cold enough to crack stone. When the snow falls, it is gray. When the rain falls, it is sooty. The sky is dark and forbidding. This world-wide devastation was the result of a cataclysm, one which is wisely left unspecified. Most of mankind is dead, snuffed out by famine and disease. But there are survivors. Some, like our protagonists, are forced to pursue a life of perpetual wandering, scavenging for food and fighting for life as best they can among the rubble of civilization. Others commit suicide, convinced that there is nothing left to live for. Still others – indeed, the vast majority – become cannibals, eaters of human flesh, banding together to prey on their weaker brethren.

Heavy stuff, indeed.

Cinematically speaking, The Road is magnificent. In adapting McCarthy's novel for the big screen, director Hillcoat was presented with the formidable challenge of translating McCarthy's powerful writing into powerful visuals. He succeeds. Hillcoat's rendering of McCarthy's post-apocalyptic world will take your breath away. CGI is kept to a minimum, imbuing the film with a very real, very gritty look – in fact, the very look you would expect of a world bereft of sunlight.

The cinematography is outstanding. Says director of photography Javier Aguirresarobe, “I think the biggest victory will be if the audience can believe in the reality of the story while watching it in the artificial world of the theater - that they see there is a truth to this story.” Having seen the result, I can say without a doubt that the victory he was seeking is his.

Nick Cave and Warren Ellis (who also collaborated with Hillcoat on The Proposition) provide the movie's evocative, atmospheric score. Not all of it is pleasant to listen to on it's own, but the main theme stands out as one of the most beautiful pieces of music I have ever encountered in a motion picture.

“Actions speak louder than words” is a maxim taken seriously in this film, considering that the visuals carry it from beginning to end. What little script there is is lifted word-for-word from the book; which is a good thing, believe me. There's an elegant but simple power to it, power that is magnified by the force with which the actors deliver their lines. 

Which brings me to the most fascinating aesthetic element of this film: Viggo Mortensen's performance as The Man. He brings everything he has as an actor to this role, and the result is absolutely mesmerizing. Don't get me wrong – the supporting cast is uniformly excellent, filling their roles with phenomenal ease and grace. But next to Viggo, they almost pale in comparison. He stands head and shoulders above them all.

The Road also offers a keen and truth-filled glimpse into the nature of unregenerate man. The word “civilized” has no meaning in a world where civilization has ceased to exist. Man is innately self-centered, which means that, left to himself and confronted with tough circumstances, he will almost always place his own needs before those of his neighbor. What moral obligation would compel him to do otherwise?

The cannibal bands are a prime example of this. Faced with dwindling resources and a shortage of food, the stronger join together against the weak - hunting, raping, slaying, and eating. And really, if evolution is a fact, if man is merely a collection of molecules slapped together by chance, why should we object to such baseness? On what grounds can we even call it “baseness”? Is it not merely “survival of the fittest” lived out before our very eyes?

During one particularly unsettling sequence, we behold the inside of a cellar, in which men, women, and children are huddled, half-clothed and miserable, waiting their turn to go under the butcher's knife. Such brutal inhumanity may be hard for us to conceive, but it's not as far off as we would like to think. There, but for the grace of God...

The most powerful aspect of the story, however, is the way it depicts the bond between a father and son. Mortensen's character is ill - dying in fact – and yet, through wracking pain and exhaustion, he is purposed not to give up. His lion-like devotion to his son is what keeps him going. He knows he must prepare his son for the day when he is no longer around. And until that day, he is determined to protect him at all costs. “I will kill anyone who touches you,” he tells the Boy. “Because that's my job.”

For the Boy, the devastated world is the only world he knows. He was born into it. He remembers nothing before it. There is an innocence, a purity, a gentleness about him which, at times, acts like a restraining hand upon his father’s harsher inclinations. Yet he loves and trusts his father implicitly. He could not live without his father; his father would not live without him.


The Road is not for everyone, and it is certainly not for the faint of heart. Those who do watch it should be warned that it does not tout a distinctly Christian worldview; at times, it is even blatantly humanistic.  However, the good in this film far outweighs the bad, and if you stick with it, you'll be more than amply rewarded in the end.