Desirous of every thing

There are times that films come along, and you don’t really expect much of them, despite name stars, infamy, etc. but when you watch them, something unexpected and kind of magical happens.  On the Road, adapted from Jack Kerouac’s classic beat generation novel, is one of those films.  It isn’t often that a work of literature is transferred to celluloid while retaining that special and incomparable quality of the written word.   Usually when the words are put into the mouths of the characters or the narrator it seems overdone, too much, not cinematic or realistic or something.  Maybe it’s because of the source material (I’m not in a position to comment on this not having read the book – a fact that will change in the near future), but this film has really captured something special.

I almost feel bad bringing it up, but it’s kind of the elephant in the room as far as I’m concerned.  Kristen Stewart has made some terrible films (Twilight 1-4/5, anyone?), and is generally highly vexatious regardless of the parts she plays in the surprising (unsurprising?) number of films she has appeared in of late (pretty much everything post-Twilight).  But here she pulls together a performance that I will go so far as to say doesn’t suck.  I’m not going to gush.  But don’t be put off the film because of her presence.


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