Excerpt: On the road :To Nowhere is a more appropriate title for this road picture that wanders aimlessly from scene to scene without much purpose. The film stars Sam Riley as Sal Paradise. He meets Dean Moriarty (Garrett Hedlund) and his young wife Marylou (Kristen Stewart). They quickly become friends and their journey together begins. Sal is a writer and is dealing with not only writer’s block, but the recent death of his father.
Conclusion: The lengthy struggle to bring an adaptation of Jack Kerouac's 1957 novel "On the Road" to the screen finally ended with this Walter Salles-directed drama. Francis Ford Coppola personally selected Salles for the job, and the Brazilian director does an adequate if imperfect job directing his ensemble cast, which includes Garrett Hedlund, Sam Riley, Kristen Stewart, Amy Adams and Kirsten Dunst.
Conclusion: I wanted to like this film a lot, but I couldn't. It is too disjointed and too lethargic, unsure where it wants to go and how it wants to get there. Parts of it are beautiful to look at, but the main protagonists are impossible to embrace. The journey in this film has little in common with the one Jack Kerouac described in his book. RENT IT. Did you find this review helpful?
Excerpt: There are many classic American works of literature whose subject matters lend themselves to movie adaptations. On The Road is definitely not one of them. Partially populated by transient supporting characters and paced by rambling journeys with little more than vague, easily altered itineraries, On The Road is, even to its biggest fans, a bit of a hot mess.
Excerpt: There are three On The Road s, really. There’s the novel Jack Kerouac finished in 1951, telling the story of rootless young renegades Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty, who crisscross the country taking drugs, screwing prodigiously, listening to jazz, and plunging headlong into unconventionality.
Summary: Jack Kerouac’s seminal road trip novel was never going to make for an easy screen adaptation. Written in one breath with the rambling fuel of a methamphetamine buzz, it was arguably a novel with more style than substance, more philosophy than plot and more uppers, so to speak, than downers.