Went to see
On The Road last night, drawn by the
promise of cheap movie night and the chance to see a couple of cuties make
mincemeat of the Beats. I prefer to confront my art unarmed and without
foreknowledge, just to give the semblance of a fair fight, though I went with a
healthy dose of skepticism that much could be made from the long, rambling
drama of Kerouac's book, which I read in my teens. I'm not much of a Beat fan,
though I'm somewhat fascinated by all those artsy intellectuals, many of them
queer, trying to live their lives tough. Still, I hadn't read any reviews, so
went without expecting much, certainly not to be mesmerized. What a thrill then
to see the era brought so richly to life (at least as much as it can for
someone like me who wasn't around in the 'forties) and the characters evoked so
convincingly. The casting is magical all around. Garett Hedlund as Dean
Moriarty (Kerouac's buddy Neal Cassady in real life), the bisexual rebel with
Jack Nicholson's voice and young Marlon Brando's sex appeal, draws focus almost
effortlessly whenever he's on screen. Kirsten Dunst as Moriarty's wife Camille
(and Hedlund's real-life amour) fares
equally well. Either I missed it at the beginning or it wasn't there, but when
I finally caught the director's name at the end, I understood why the film was
so rivetting. Brazilian Walter Salles first came to world attention in 1998 with
the haunting Central Station. He
later drew from Che Guevara's memoirs (as undramatic as Kerouac's book) and
spun them into The Motorcycle Diaries.
This is one not to be missed, unless your idea of a great film is, oh, I don't
know … Titanic?
