Road Rage: A Persnickety Analysis of: On The Road

 This film screened earlier today in the competition at Cannes, and I for one found it one of the worst things that's ever happened in the world of Cinema, that's ever. John Ford, Orson Welles, and D.W. Griffith should like form a ghostly coalition of the willing and beat Walter Salles to a bloody pulp. If I could punch this film in the face I would do it. But instead, I'm making a corn husk doll of Kristen Stewart and punching that in the face. It's healing some of the wounds.

First thing's first. Do not adapt Kerouac in the 21st century. Why the hell did you wait so long to where it's not even remotely relevant anymore. Who in their right minds could give two fucks about some hipster without a job meandering around, having pretentiously mediocre thoughts about the uselessness of existence whilst drinking and smoking a lot. Because, that's all the film is! I understand that that's what Kerouac wrote about, but it's considered 'unadaptable' for a reason. You can't just do that to your film audience i.e. have nothing happen for two and a half hours whilst people philosophize about said nothing in the voice over. Kerouac is dead folks. Oh and by the way, he died because his liver exploded from drinking so much. 

This brings me to my second point; it's a pet peeve of mine when people are shown CONSTANTLY drinking and doing drugs, but no one ever seems to get high or drunk, it's like I know you're in your early 20's but if you ingest that much Benzedrine and that much Vodka at the same time, I'm dropping your comatose ass off at the emergency room and making a quick getaway.

Neal Cassady on the left with Jack Kerouac on the right, the inspirations behind Dean and Sal in On the Road. Did I mention both died before they were 35? from alcoholism? Oh I did? well doesn't hurt repeating.

Point three. No one in our generation, who's never 'burned burned burned with the fire of a Roman candle' but plays 'Draw Something', talks to Siri like she's an actual person, and blogs blogs blogs all day long gives two fucks about the beat generation. That shit burn burn burned out real fast, and it's not even nostalgic anymore. It's taking us to a place none of us want to be, and around people none of us would be friends with. You're not watching it thinking 'oh these people are really unique and interesting, they have thoughts man, ya dig?' You're sitting there, thinking; 'wow, they are all dirty and useless. Grow up and get a fucking job...and where exactly do they get the money for all this weed?'

'Oh look at me with my silk blouse rocking out to spontaneous jazz medleys. I am soooooo of the period and don't stick out at all'

Point four. Casting. What the fuck were you thinking? Garrett Hedlund as Dean Moriarty? He looks like the moron jock from every 80's movie. Sam Riley as Sal Paradise (who is just an avatar for Kerouac himself) gets a pass. But Kristen fucking Stewart as child bride Marylou? Are. You. Kidding. Me. She stands out like Winona Ryder in a period costume drama, like totally. She's so not 'of that generation' that it makes me infuriated that everyone is taking her seriously just because she does half of the movie naked. I respectfully disagree! This is worse than Keira Knightley pretending to be a Russian intellectual who likes to get spanked in A Dangerous Method (2011). Ya should have made it back in the early 90's when people still gave two shits about Neal Cassady, Jack Karouac, and reading in general, cast Brad Pitt as Dean, Ethan Hawke as Sal, and Juliette Lewis as Marylou. Sidney Lumet should have directed. Side note, that British dude who's Sienna Miller's baby daddy as Carlo Marx? So bad that it went past good and back to bad again.    

Tom Sturrige as Carlo Marx in one of the many ambiguous posters made for the film, caption reads 'we're alive?' harkening back to a question this motherfucker brings up constantly because he's on too much Benzedrine to disassociate reality from sleepy time. So the answer to your question you pretentious fuck is 'yes...but that can change. go buy a gun'.

Also, stop peppering films with big stars that just want to prove that they read Kerouac and are thereby intellectuals like Steve Buscemi and Viggo Mortensen. You guys are established stars you do not need to associate with such garbage. Also, again, why exactly are you naked? 

If you want to walk out of a movie this year and be like 'hmm, I didn't give any fucks the whole time' then this is a film you should see. I kept rolling my eyes so much I think they started making a noise. Bright spot at the end of the dark tunnel lined with human excrement is that the films about beatniks genre might not be violently dead from massive head wounds which I personally inflict on it quite yet. Kill Your Darlings (2013) with Daniel Radcliffe as Allan Ginsburg actually seems pretty promising. I anxiously await for it to cure the cancer that I got watching this.

Basically, this sums it up beautifully:

"Many have speculated that 'On the Road,' Jack Kerouac's seminal beat novel, is unadaptable for the screen, and Walter Salles' game attempt suggests that this may indeed be the case. Despite its pretty cast and sun-ripened colours, the film quickly settles into a tedious looping rhythm of Sal Paradise (Sam Riley) experiencing some kind of beatnik debauchery with co-wanderers Dean Moriarty (Garrett Hedlund) and Marylou (Kristen Stewart), before retiring to a shady corner and scribbling wildly in a notebook. Neither the journey nor the destination seems to matter a jot." — Robbie Collin, The Telegraph

Read the full article here: Cannes 2012 Review of On The Road

Here's another really interesting article called Kerouac retold as 'Bro-Retry'
Every Sentence of Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, Retold for Bros

Which is basically what this film is. It's a dumb-it-down bro-mance road movie. And it's long as fuck. No pun intended.  

I realize that all I'm doing is making you watch it more, so fine. Here's the trailer. I hope you enjoy contemplating murder-suicide for two and a half hours. 

Who Will Win the Palme d'Fuck at Cannes this Year?

As you film buffs are well aware, in just a week the biggest and sparkliest names in show business will descend upon the beautiful resort town in the south of France called Cannes for the most prestigious film festival that exists in history. So basically it's a lot of pretentious Europeans and the Hollywood elite rubbing shoulders, watching a shit ton of movies, and booing Sophia Copolla and Lars Von Trier (which I have no problem with). 

Two of the biggest films in competition this year are David Cronenberg's urban shit-show BDSM violence fantasy Cosmopolis (2012) and sensitive guy socialist Walter Salles' subterranean clusterfuck of disjointed Benzedrine-inspired bullshit On the Road (2012) both based renowned literary opuses, and both starring the principals from Twilight, how fucking appropriate. When you're thinking of adapting Kerouac, the first person that pops in your head should be Kristen Stewart I mean clearly. 

Still from On the Road (2012) be prepared for a lot of nude driving.

Both contain excessive fucking and all other kinds of derogatory behavior, one is surreal, the other nostalgic. One is futuristic, the other, dated. And if you can't tell which is which, then go stand in the corner you dumb bitch. 

Point is, that hey, it's France. Neither of these are going to pick up any Academy Awards for Best Tits, but they might snag an Un Certain Regard or two. Both are big 'risk' movies with explicit material. The Cosmopolis trailer was even slapped with a red band, therefore parents beware, but Frenchies get your binoculars out if you want to catch Robert Pattinson's peen. 

Still from Cosmopolis (2012) be prepared for a lot of nude Robwrt Pattinson shooting and being shot at.

And to assume that a book based on professional drunk Jack Karouac's On The Road would be anything but blatantly explicit is just plain ignorant. Now, I'm not a big fan of either of the books, but I am a fan of Don DeLillo in general (who wrote Cosmopolis, not his best by far) and a way bigger fan of Cronenberg than Salles. To me, if it's competing for who's got the hotter, filthier, more provocative film, it's like the junior varsity sit-ins vs. the starting team on the Lakers. Oh snap, i just made a sports analogy (not even sure if it worked but whateves). It's a no-brainer folks, you're going to make it rain  golden palms on Cosmopolis.

Now none of this is to say that either is going to be a 'good' film in the way that we define 'a good film' in fact, I'm not too excited about either. I'm going to go ahead and say for the record that Abbas Kiarostami is going to walk away with the Palme d'Or or even Sang-soo Hong. 'Oh who?' you ask...go stand in the corner, bitch.

Below trailers for both: